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Let The Light In |4|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter 4: Leave That For The Adults

Summary: Tara has been driving herself crazy trying to figure out what she's feeling and you're not making it any better. And you get stuck having dinner with a certain teeth edging family member

Warning(s): Some angst, swearing, mentions of underage drinking, intoxication, dry heaving, gagging & throwing up

Notes: We get to see a little more of R's past in this one and I think you're gonna like one specific scene I wrote 🤭

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

Tara, Mindy, Chad and Ethan were once again over at your and Anika’s apartment to hang out with her. She tried to convince you to hang out with them but you weren’t interested. Your answer was always the same whenever she asked. 

They just weren’t your crowd. They weren’t in high school and they aren't now. You were fine with that. Anika on the other hand wanted you to get to know them. They were friends with her girlfriend and became her own. She wanted all of you to get along.

She was fully aware of your rocky relationship with Tara but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying. Anika only knew a few things; you and tara have hated each other since high school and according to Mindy it started out of the blue.

“Chad I swear to god if you don’t stop throwing that blue shell at me,” Tara said as she swerved along with her kart on the screen. “It’s not my fault your reflexes on Mario Kart suck–” Tara threw a pillow at him “–hey! No pillow throwing.”

“Aaaand victory is mine!” Mindy raised her arms victoriously. “Take that losers,” she smirked while the rest of them groaned. 

“Winner gets to choose where we eat for dinner and I say that diner around the corner.” After a few minutes they start to get ready to leave. “Oh hold on one second,” Anika said before approaching your bedroom door and knocking.

“Yeah?” She heard you ask from the other side. “We’re going to that diner around the corner. You wanna come?” Shit. Anika knew damn well it was your favorite place to eat. The only flaw is that it doesn’t deliver. 

Your roommate heard groaning and shuffling before the door swung open. “Sure I’m in.” You were wearing jeans and a Batman shirt that looked a little too thin for the chill fall weather. “Aren’t you going to be a bit cold?” She asked before you rolled your head back and grabbed your older brother’s letterman jacket. 

“I’ll take this. Happy mom?” She rolled her eyes before replying. “Very, now come on.”

The walk over was short but you still trailed behind them the entire time. When you all sat in a booth you chose to hide with a menu by holding it up in front of your face. You stared at the menu as if you weren’t going to order your usual. Anika and Mindy sit beside you as Ethan, Chad and Tara sit in front of you. 

They have multiple conversations that you choose to stay out of until you hear your name. “So, Y/N, you like Batman?” You put down the menu and tilt your head slightly, looking at the curly haired boy who had spoken.

“It’s just I noticed your Batman shirt,” Ethan continued as he briefly pointed to the shirt you were wearing. “Oh yeah. He’s cool. You?” He smiled and nodded. 

A conversation between the two of you – that was Ethan asking you questions and you responding with a short answer or hum – eventually picked up. During all this you couldn’t help but feel like you were being stared at but chose to ignore it. Your conversation with Ethan was put on pause when the food came. You quietly munched on your fries until Tara spoke up.

“So, Y/N–” here we go “–you only come out of your room for food and the occasional bathroom breaks…you’re kind of like a deer.” She took a bite of one of her onion rings. “A deer? What– well you’re five foot nothin’ so I don’t know why you’re talkin'.” You shot back. It wasn’t the first time somebody’s compared your habits to a deer. 

“I’m five foot one!” She defended with a scoff before you responded. “But who’s keeping track, right? And speaking of which–” everybody at the table were now staring at the both of you “–why are you keeping track of my routine anyways?” 

“Oh you are so full of it,” Tara said with her arms now crossed. “Full of what? I haven’t accused you of anything yet my little stalker. Simply just asking,” you shrugged while wearing a smug look that Tara wanted to ki- smack right off your face.

“Don’t you still sleep with a Spider-Man plushie?” Tara retorted before sipping her milkshake, her eyes never leaving you. “Technically I don’t sleep with him, he sits on my nightstand. Wait– how do you know about him?” You asked with tilt in your head.

Tara suddenly avoided your stare as she twirled her straw in her milkshake. “You mentioned it at some point,” she finally murmured.

“You remembered that?” She remembered that?  Even you couldn’t remember mentioning that to her until now. 

“It’s not a big deal. Not like it’s a hard thing to remember.” It suddenly got quiet between the two of you. All of them eventually drifted off into their own conversation as you silently nibbled on another one of your fries.

Suddenly you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. The message you read causes you to freeze and your eyes to widen.

Dad (8:56 pm) I’m coming over this weekend. 

“Shit,” you mutter and Anika turns over to you. “What’s wrong?” she asks but then her eyes catch the message you’re still staring at. Before she could say anything else you were already typing away.

Y/N (8:58 pm) Tomorrow?

You started to push down on your thumb’s cuticles with your index finger while waiting for a response. 

Dad (9:01 pm) Yes

Tomorrow was Saturday and you were originally going to help Tara with one of her assignments and then play video games at Henry’s place but not anymore. Now you’re going to get stuck with your father. It wasn’t an ideal situation. You and him never got along. 

You were never his favorite and that was alright with you cause he was never yours. All he did was bring problems. If he wasn’t busy cheating on your mom then he was nit picking at you and every little thing you did. No matter what you did you just couldn’t be enough for him.

A foot gently tapping your own from under the table pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Tara with her eyebrows furrowed. You simply cleared your throat and shook her head a bit, trying to show you were fine. She looked you up and down – not believing you one bit – before turning back to her conversation with Chad.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned your head to find Anika. “Are you gonna need the apartment this weekend? It’s not a problem if you do,” she asked and reassured you. 

“No, I think I’m just gonna take him out for dinner. Besides, he only knows where I’m attending college. He doesn’t know where I live and I’d like to keep it that way,” you murmured back before sipping your milkshake. You saw her nod from the corner of your eye before she turned back to Mindy.

When you all left the diner you and Tara went back to your bickering. Chad rubbed his stomach before letting out a tiny groan. “Shit, I shouldn’t have drank the milkshake and soda.” Mindy rolled her eyes and replied, “I told you not to drink both.” 

You and Tara were slightly ahead of the group. “Yeah bu– are those ghost socks?” You asked, cutting yourself off. Tara looked down at her socks for a second before looking back at you. “Yeah, and?” You put out your bottom lip as you shook your head. “Nothing. I think you look cute in them. Anyways back to the point I was making–” Tara didn’t hear much after the word “cute.”

Why are you acting as if you didn’t just call her cute? Were you doing this on purpose? Making her feel like this? Like butterflies were flying around in her stomach? Surely you knew. This had to be another one of your tactics. Another way for you to get inside her hea–

“Watch out for dog shit,” you said as you pulled her by the waist and away from the crap she was about to step on. When you removed your hand from her waist she almost missed it. Almost.

“You okay?” She turned her head to look up at you. “Yeah, fine.” Tara responded before looking back ahead. 

Mindy and Anika watched the whole interaction. They gave each other a silent look before continuing their own conversation. 

“You seem out of it.” Tara gave you a raised eyebrow before you elaborated. “I just mean, usually you would’ve had a rebuttal for me by now. You doin’ okay?” You were now fully looking at her and she hated the concern in your eyes.

She turned her head, no longer able to handle your stare. “I said I was fine, didn't I?” Tara crossed her arms. You gave her a tight lipped look before sighing, “Okay then…”

When you all got back to your apartment you placed your leftovers on the counter. Just as you were about to go to your room your phone started ringing. 

You tense up before saying, “I’m gonna take this,” and going to your bedroom. Leaving Anika and the rest of them in the living room. 

You silently sighed in relief as you heard your mom’s voice. The call itself didn’t take too long. It was just her checking in, making sure your father told you about him being in Manhattan this weekend – as vague as he was – and that her and your younger brother, Stephen, would be joining you and him for dinner.  You had zero complaints to this as you did not want to be left alone with your father.

When you stepped out of your room you completely forgot people were over. You stopped in your tracks as their heads turned to you for a brief moment, Tara was biting on her nails but dropped them from her mouth as soon as she saw you and looked back at the TV. 

“Great, you’re all still here,” you said sarcastically before sitting down in the loveseat. Anika kicked your feet due to your blatant comment. 

“Be nice,” she mouthed. You lifted your legs to rest on the loveseat’s armrest. You had no idea why you were sitting out here anyway. Originally you had come out of your room thinking they had left. You definitely weren’t in the mood for company. 

But when are you ever?

“Oh um, Tara I’m not gonna make it tomorrow,” you told her after a few minutes of silence. “Why?” Tara sinked further into the couch when she realized she sounded more disappointed than she intended. 

“I’m getting dragged off to this dinner thing tomorrow but I’ll make it up to you,” you simply answered before standing up and walking over to the kitchen. Mindy looked at you as you walked then to Tara with raised eyebrows.

“What?” Tara asked with a bored tone. “I’ll make it up to you~” Mindy mocked while dramatically fluttering her eyelashes. 

“Shut up.” 

—

You haven’t seen your father since you moved to Woodsboro your sophomore year. You didn’t even see him after were attacked by ghostface. Not that you expected any less from him, this was just the type of man he was. When you get to the restaurant the first people you see are your younger brother and mom. 

She greets you with a kiss to the cheek and you and your brother settle for a simple nod. Once you’re all seated you ask the question that’s been on the tip of your tongue since you walked in. “So, where’s dad?” Your mom sighed before answering. A sigh you knew all too well. “He’s on his way. There was just a little traffic. Stop worrying honey, leave that for the adults.” She looked at you with a gentle smile to ease her words.

You exhale through your nose, lightly moving your index finger against the glass cup set in front of you. I am an adult, you wanted to say but this wasn’t the place for that. Not now.

“What’s college like?” Stephen asked, pulling you from your thoughts. You continued to stare at the glass as you answered him. “Still there.” You could hear your mom clear her throat. You moved your eyes to look at her before moving them back to the glass. “Some of the classes are actually worth looking forward to so I guess that’s something.”

“Well that’s good. You’ve been keeping up with your studies?” You nodded. Before she could get another word out you felt a familiar grip on your shoulder. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic.” 

“Dad,” you heard your brother say. “Hey, buddy. How was the train?” Your father asked as he took the vacant space beside your mom. “It was okay,” Stephen answered. 

“Y/N.” You finally looked over to him. “Dad,” you responded less enthusiastically than your brother.  Stephen and your mom shared a look before you heard her speak. “Do you two know what you want?” She asked you and your brother.

Stephen nodded and you hummed.

“So, did Stephen tell you yet?” Your father asked. You looked at him then to Stephen, saying, “Tell me what?”

Your father wore a proud grin as he spoke, “He’s going to be a cop. Just like his old man and I couldn’t be prouder.” Your mom let out a silent sigh, knowing where the night was headed. “That’s great,” you took a sip of your water.

“Isn’t it? He’s going to be great.” Stephen nervously chuckled before finally saying something. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just thinking about it.” Your father shook his head, “It’s a calling, bud and you’re going to do amazing.” He sounded nothing but proud. 

You gave a small smile to your brother before turning back to your glass. You expected no less from tonight. You knew your father couldn’t be here five minutes without being ‘Officer Y/L/N.’ That was your relationship with him growing up. It seemed like he knew more about being a cop than how to be your dad. 

The waitress came with the food and left and the interrogation began. “So,” your father started, “you’ve been staying out of trouble?” You rolled your eyes.

“Course’ I have.” He grunted at your answer and responded, “There’s no need for an attitude. I have plenty of reasons to ask you that or did you forget about the shit you did in Brooklyn?” 

You roll your eyes again. “That was years ago. I don’t do that stuff anymore.” He eyed you before picking up his fork and knife, cutting through his chicken. “Mhm, kay,” you heard him mutter with doubt laced in his tone and you clenched your jaw.

“And stop rolling your eyes. It’s a bad habit,” he added before taking a bite of his food. You subconsciously closed your eyes for a second as you felt yourself about to roll your eyes again. He always found something to nitpick at. 

The rest of the night continued to go on like that. Your father continued to bring up your track record to get a rise out of you and you responded back with quips as you picked at your own skin under the table. 

Not much has changed since you were fifteen. 

The best news you got all night was that your father would be heading home the same night. You felt relief wash over you as you heard him say that. And as much as you love your mom and brother, you were glad they had their own ride home because you were simply too exhausted to be behind a wheel tonight. 

You were walking to your apartment when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You took it out to find a text from Anika.

Nik (10:53 pm) Hey! I went to carvel today, there’s a chocolate and vanilla twist waiting for you in the freezer

You slightly smiled, now off to the side and leaning against a shutter. You replied to the message, giving a quick thanks, before only putting in the right side of your headphones in and continuing your walk to your apartment. 

A hotdog stand caught your attention. The smell was alluring and you felt your stomach grumble. Damn it. You just came back from dinner but of course you were still hungry. It was dinner with your father. You never got much eating done, choosing to use your mouth for arguing rather than chewing and swallowing. 

You knew how unreliable street food was but at the moment you truly didn’t care. You chose to stick with a simple order, a hotdog with ketchup drizzled top. You got a Dr Pepper from a store nearby before sitting down on a bench and eating. This was the most at peace you felt all night. Sitting on a bench, listening to music, eating a hotdog and washing it down with Dr Pepper.

If only that peace lasted.

When you got home you went to turn on the light, not expecting them to be on since Anika was supposed to be out with Mindy, but you realized they were already on. You furrowed eyebrows. Anika usually doesn’t forget something like that.

“Anika?” You called out, reaching for the bat you hid under your couch when you first moved in. After a few seconds you heard her reply, “Y/N? Yeah in here!” It sounded like she was in the bathroom. You reluctantly put the bat back before going over to the bathroom.

“Hey what’s wro–” You cut yourself off when you see an ill looking Tara hunched over your toilet. Mindy was holding her hair back as Anika turned to you. “Hey um, sorry to just drop this on you. I know you probably had a long night but could you help us with something?” 

You gave Tara one more glance before answering, “Yeah of course. What do you need?” You could hear Tara gagging. “Can you keep an eye on her while we get her some supplies from the pharmacy?” You nodded and murmured, “Course.’ ”

You switched places with Mindy, lifting Tara’s hair and even pushing a few extra strands from her face. She was clearly drunk and you couldn’t help but admit you hated seeing her like this. You didn’t go to as many parties as she did but from what you’ve heard most of her free nights end with her being drunk.

“You're never gonna let me forget this, are you?” Tara said in between gags. You subconsciously moved one of your hands to her lower back, softly rubbing in circles.

“What? You think I like seeing you like this?” You asked genuinely. Surely she knew you didn’t…right? Seeing her in such an unhealthy state only brought a feeling of– well you couldn’t find the right word for what you felt. But you knew it wasn’t anything positive.

“Don’t you?” She slurred, clearly she hadn’t puked up all the alcohol just yet. You exhale through your nose, taking your hand off her lower back to reach into your pocket to grab a hair tie. Tara missed the contact but refused to say anything. Only pouting at yourself for even thinking such a thing.

You run your hands through her hair, brushing it back and tying it in a loose but secure ponytail. You push a single loose strand behind her ear causing your knuckles to brush against her cheek. Tara’s breath hitches and she blushes, due to your touch. 

Goodness, what were you doing to her?

“No. I don’t,” you finally answered. She went to say something but was cut off by dry heaving and your hand immediately went back to her lower back, continuing to rub gentle circles.  

You could hear the faint sound of your front door opening and a few seconds later the bathroom door slowly opened. 

“Hey, we got everything,” Anika told you. You turned your head to see her with a pharmacy bag. You and Anika got Tara to the couch in one piece while Mindy was in the kitchen setting up everything Tara would need. “Oh Y/N, before I forget. Tara’s staying the night because Sam will freak out if she comes home like this,” Anika told you as you wiped the remnants of drool and throw up off Tara’s face. You thought for a second before responding,“Okay, she can take my bed.” Tara was now passed out cold on the couch, hugging a pillow close to her chest. 

“Are you sure?” Your roommate asked and you hummed. “Listen, we may hate each other but my mom raised me right. I’m not leaving her on the couch. Besides, I’m assuming Mindy’s also staying to keep an eye on her and you two shouldn’t have to get stuck cuddling on a couch all night.” 

After Anika hesitantly agreed, you set up your bed and then went back to the couch to find Tara still fast asleep. You lifted her bridal style and started the walk to your room. Tara mumbled something incoherent before her eyes fluttered open. She seemed confused as she looked around then up at you. “It’s okay, go to sleep,” you said in a soft voice that made Tara’s cheeks warm.

Once you placed her in your bed you put the covers over and gently lifted her head to put a pillow under her. Her eyes were once again shut, you assumed she fell asleep again and looked at her for a moment before leaving the room but not without leaving the door open by a sliver. Just in case anything happened and she needed you– or anyone.

When Tara woke up she instantly noticed the pounding headache she had and groaned. She rubbed her temples and after a minute she took a look around. This was not her room. Has she been kidnapped? But it was then when all the memories from last night came rushing to her. 

All the embarrassing memories. She could remember starting off with a shot…then two…then three…then she woke up to Anika and Mindy helping her up and walking her out of the party. She had complained about not wanting to go back to her own place because Sam would kill her so Anika and Mindy brought her to Anika’s apartment instead and Mindy messaged Sam that they were staying the night at her house.

After that she felt like throwing up…and she did. Then she didn’t stop for a while. And then– oh this is when the embarrassment comes in. That’s when you came home and Anika asked you to help while they went out for supplies. 

Oh, you were so gentle with her. She almost let out a dreamy sigh while looking back until she caught herself. Snap out of it, Carpenter, she scolded herself. But then another memory of you carrying her bridal style to your bed and tucking her in appeared. 

No. Mindy wasn’t right and Tara still despised you. You were still the same asshole from high school. 

She heard two soft knocks on the door and looked over to see you carrying a plate of scrambled eggs. “Didn’t know if you were awake,” you murmured. You walked over and placed them beside the water bottle and aspirin you left for her the night before. 

“Anika made some scrambled eggs and eggs are good for hangovers, so…” You awkwardly shifted back and forth on your feet with your arms behind your back, your hands holding onto each other. “I’m gonna go.” And with that you left the room, not waiting for a response from Tara. 

After five minutes, Tara finally leaves your bedroom. “There she is,” Mindy smiled at her before putting a grape in her mouth. “So loud,” Tara mumbled while lifting a hand to her head.

She lifted herself onto the stool beside Anika and Mindy and put her head down. But she lifted her head slightly and shifted her eyes, noticing a certain her nuisance wasn’t there to bother her or call her princess.

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked in her morning voice. “Your lover girl had a morning shift at the cafe,” Mindy answered. Tara didn’t have the energy to make a retort or argue back saying, “She’s not my lover girl.” She settled with putting her head back down with heavy eyes.

“What time is Sam expecting us?” Anika asked her girlfriend who answered, “Eleven so we should probably get ready soon.”

After a few minutes Tara went back to your bedroom to gather her stuff when suddenly she realized she didn’t recognize the hoodie she was wearing. She looked down and saw Spider-Man at the center of the hoodie, putting up his hands to form a heart. She could recall seeing you wearing this around campus before and noted that it smelled like you. She could never admit that she actually appreciated the gesture considering the tank top you put it over wasn’t doing anything to keep her warm.

It wouldn’t hurt to keep the hoodie, right?

She looked over at the scrambled eggs you had brought in for her before sitting down on the edge of the bed, swinging her feet as she thought to herself. Guess it wouldn’t hurt to eat the eggs. It was Anika who made it after all. She ate a few bites over your nightstand before taking a sip of water and took an aspirin.

When she got back home she greeted Sam before laying down on her bed and replaying last night over and over again and how she had to face you in class the next day.

—

When Tara got to class you greeted her as if nothing happened. “Hey, you look like you just got run over by a truck,” you said, causing her to roll her eyes at you. “Oh do I?” She asked rhetorically and took out her laptop. 

Throughout class her mind kept trailing back to your gentleness towards her that night. All Anika told you to do was watch her. She didn’t tell you to wipe the drool and throw up off her face, put her hair in a ponytail or rub her back as she gagged. 

The fact that you had somehow found your way into her head was pissing Tara off. So pissed in fact that instead of going about her usual routine with you she just chose to ignore you.

You weren’t sure why Tara was ignoring you. Obviously something seemed off with her but you had no idea what. Was she mad at you? She didn’t seem her usual mad, this was different. She’s never taken her aggression out by ignoring you. By using colorful words? Yeah. But never with silence. 

Oh.

You must've done something terrible. But what?

As you walked to your next class you tried to look back at what you could’ve possibly done. You hadn’t done anything you haven’t done before. Just your usual banter with Tara, nothing out of the norm. By the time you got to your apartment later that day you were still trying to figure out what you could’ve done. This shouldn’t be stressing you out as much as it was. It was just Tara after all. 

Anika noticed your distressed state and walked to the kitchen, a minute later coming back with your chocolate and vanilla twist and handing it to you. “Thanks,” you said as you took the ice cream from your roommate.

“Wanna talk about what’s got you like this?” She asked you, moving to sit in the love seat. You moved the spoon around a bit in your ice cream before answering. “I just…I don’t know what I did but T– this person is giving me the silent treatment and I just don’t know why. I’ve been trying to come up with something I could’ve done to get that treatment but nothing’s coming to me,” you finally said as Anika nodded along and listened. 

“Well, you can be kind of an asshole sometimes. Seems like you've thought pretty hard on this. You care a lot for this person?” She suddenly asked. You almost wanted to laugh. Would Anika be asking this if she knew you were talking about Tara?

“Oh, goodness no. She’s just an– acquaintance? I guess you can say. If you even wanna call her anything,” you answered her. “You seem pretty sure of that,” she stated with a tone of doubt.

“Cause’ I am.” You responded trying to sound certain. “Then why care so much if she’s ignoring you? If you don’t care about her then you shouldn't care if she’s giving you the silent treatment,” Anika continued as you sat there and took in every word.

“I could easily move past this whole thing and forget about it entirely if I wanted to,” you defended not so convincingly. “Okay. Then move past it,” she challenged. 

“Alright, I will then,” you said. “You’re gonna lose sleep over this,” Anika confidently said as she walked away to her room. You huffed as you ate your ice cream. I won’t lose sleep over Tara freakin’ Carpenter. 

Later that night you were sprawled on your bed…and thinking about Tara.

-----------

A/N: wonder what's gonna happen next 🤔

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye

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Let The Light In |5|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter 5: Shit-faced

Summary: It's been weeks and Tara was still avoiding you, but that doesn't stop you from looking out for her

Warning(s): Swearing, smoking, mentions of underage drinking, intoxication & panic attack

Notes: I reaaally hope this suffices. I tried my best, I swear. I think this is the longest chap I've done for this series so far (5,162 words, usually it's right under 5k words) Shoutout to @iamnodens for giving me some inspiration. Sparked an idea for a plot-line I wanna pursue

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

Anika saw you check your phone for the millionth time that night. “Come on, this is supposed to be a movie night. Not ‘check your phone a million times’ night,” Anika spoke up. You faced your phone back down. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. Anika looked over at you then back at the TV before speaking again. “Who has you so anxious?” She asked and you rolled your eyes. 

“No one,” you say in a dry tone before grabbing the popcorn bowl and shoving a handful in your mouth. Your roommate let out a doubtful hum before turning her attention back to the TV.

Your right leg began to bounce as your thoughts once again led you to an overthinking spiral. It didn’t take long for you to think of the worst. You didn’t want Tara to never talk to you again. As much as you hated to admit it; along the way you started to enjoy Tara’s company. 

There were times where she could brighten your mood when no one else could. Tara may not have known, but the weekend you were in Brooklyn you were having a panic attack when she messaged you.

Texting back and forth with Tara seemed to eventually calm you down. You would never forget that moment, and although the younger Carpenter had no idea how much she had helped you, you knew. 

“If you bounce your leg any harder you’ll put a hole through the floor,” Anika remarked, pulling you from your memories. “Sorry,” you muttered back.

“Don’t be…what’s got you like this huh?” You start to play with your fingers. You sighed, debating whether or not you wanted to open up to Anika. 

“It’s just that– girl from before still hasn’t talked to me and I guess you were right; it’s a hundred percent getting to me.” 

Anika raised her eyebrows at you before responding,“She really must be if you’re admitting you were wrong. Have you tried confronting her about it?” 

You let out a frustrated huff. “She always swerves away from me. I sent a text but I don’t wanna seem desperate.” You looked at Anika to see her giving you a deadpan look. “What?” You asked, feeling clueless.

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose before answering. “Okay, listen up. I know you have never been a bright communicator, but come on. Only sending one text? At this point you might as well just corner her if you refuse to send her no more than that,” she chuckled dryly.

You sat there, genuinely considering that as an option. Anika watched as you thought about it and started to shake her head at you. “Y/N…no. I didn’t mean to literally corner her.”

“Fine.”

—

You patted your hands dry in the restaurant’s restroom. You looked in the mirror—making sure you were put together before walking out—but then suddenly saw a familiar face in your reflection. It was only for a moment but in that single moment you felt your breathing grow ragged, heart racing and stood frozen. You tightly gripped the counter, closing your eyes and murmuring to yourself. 

“He’s not here. He’s not here. He’s not here. It’s all in your head. It’s all in your hea—”

“Y/N?” You heard. You exhaled and turned to face the voice.

No, no, no, no…Why is she here?

“Tara.” You replied, you were on the brink of tears as you tried to control your breathing. She quickly noticed the state you were in and carefully walked up to you. You took one step back, moving away from her. She looked at you again before gently placing a hand on your bicep.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Tara asked you in a gentle voice.

“Fine.” You murmured before quickly walking out of the bathroom. You ignored the worried glances you received from Henry and Anika, walking outside and leaning against a pillar. 

You tried everything; you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, you counted, and even tried the three three three rule. But nothing was working. You felt your right hand creep up your chest as it subconsciously gripped it. Your knees felt weak, as if they would buckle from under you. 

You fumbled in your pocket for a cigarette and lighter. You held the smoked cigarette to your lips, breathing it in and out. Your free hand’s fingers anxiously tapped on your thigh as you smoked. You felt like the world would collapse from beneath you, nothing to catch or save you. You started going down another spiral when suddenly you heard someone. 

“Hey…” You looked to your left to see Tara once again. 

“I swear I didn’t know you were gonna be here. Sam and I just decided to eat out since it’s not everyday she gets off from both jobs.” Tara said, moving to lean beside you.

“That’s nice,” you replied, putting out your cigarette and throwing it.

“Yeah…it is.” Tara smiled to herself as she said that. “Are you doing a little better now?” She asked you with a light nudge to your shoulder as she looked up at you.

“I guess.” Was all you answered with. Tara slightly nodded, before looking back ahead. 

After a couple minutes of silence, you finally spoke up. “Why’ve you been ignoring me?” You asked without looking at her, your voice quiet. You looked down at your shoes, both hands in your pockets.

“I haven’t been…” Tara trailed off. She knew she was. She was fully aware of it. But, she wasn’t ready to tell you why.

“Yeah…okay,” you sighed, lifting yourself up from the pillar.

“See you around, Carpenter.” You made your way back into the restaurant. Tara stayed outside a little longer before going back to her own table.

You both glanced at each other from across the room while the other wasn’t looking. 

—

You sat on the random couch while wearing a grumpy expression. Henry had, once again, dragged you to another party. The place was too crowded, sweat was everywhere, the burning smell of the alcohol was stronger than usual—to you at least—and Henry had gone off to God knows where. You just wanted out of this frat house.

The only thing keeping you sane was the company of Anika and Mindy. You didn’t talk to Mindy much in high school but she seemed cool. Anika and her were discussing couples costumes for halloween when suddenly you heard your name.

“What do you think, Y/N?” Your roommate asked as she sat in her girlfriend's lap on the love seat beside you.  

“What do I think about what?”

“You think we could rock a zombie bride and groom for a couples costume this year?” Mindy asked for Anika.

“Yeah, you’d guys be awesome for that,” you answered in a monotone voice. You didn’t look at them as you spoke, staring off at a random spot in the room. Suddenly your eyes caught something that made your breath catch in your throat.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” Anika asked. Mindy also furrowed her eyebrows at you, but then all their answers were answered when they followed your eye line.

There Chad was with his tongue down Tara’s throat.

There was no reason to have cared as much as you did. There was no reason the pain in your chest should be growing. There’s no reason for this to hit you as hard as it did. You and Tara weren’t dating, you didn’t like her—no, you didn’t. You couldn’t. You were just caught off guard. Yeah, that’s it. You never thought about Chad and Tara together so you’re just in some form of shock.

What about the chest pain? The feeling of your heart being ripped out–

Heartburn. 

It was just heartburn, that was all it was. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Suddenly you felt a hand touch your arm. You lightly flinch before looking to your left, seeing it was Anika. Why did they both look at you with such pity?

“Hey, how about we call it a night, yeah?” You nodded.

After Mindy and Anika kissed each other goodbye, you two started to make your way out before a thought told you to reach into your pocket. Empty.

“I think my phone slipped out of my pocket while I was sitting on the couch,” You told Anika and she waited in the car as you went inside to get it.

By the time you got back to the couch somebody was already sitting, and of course it had to be Tara. “Looking for this?” she smugly asked, pulling out your phone and showing it to you.

You let out a sigh of relief before trying to reach for your phone, but the minute you almost grab it, Tara pulls it back behind her back.

“Tara, not right now.” You really weren’t in the mood for this. 

You sighed as you saw multiple stains on her shirt. “Someone’s in a mood,” she remarked, still looking up at you with a smile you couldn’t quite read.

“I’m not—” you sighed again, “—you have stains all over your shirt by the way. You’re a complete mess right now,” you murmured the last part, sitting down next to her trying to reach for your phone behind her but she’s quick. She pulls away again without thinking before responding.

“You know you pronounce your R’s in a funny way? Like, you say stuff like shirts and shorts but when you say them they sound the exact same. And then it’s, like, which one is it?” Tara rambled on. 

You sat there, silently listening to every single word. You couldn’t help the slight smile that grazed your face. It was nice hearing her voice again after so long. 

“Then I remembered you’re from Brooklyn, and you know what that means?”

“No, tell me,” you said, wanting to hear her ramble for a little longer.

“Brooklyn accent. So, that’s why you do that cute thing with your R’s!” You suddenly felt heat rush to your cheeks. Cute? Tara had used you and cute in the same sentence. She is completely plastered. 

“Tara! Ethan and I are gonna play beer pong!” You both looked over to see Chad calling from the other side of the room. 

You looked back at Tara, “I should go. See you, princess.” You got up, but suddenly felt a hand gently grasp your wrist. You looked down at her as you stood. She opened her mouth for a couple seconds before shutting it.

“You probably need this,” Tara pulled out your phone and placed it in your hand for you. The amount of contact she was giving you caused a flutter in your chest. 

“I’m probably gonna head home,” she slurred. You bit the inside of your cheek as you grew concerned about her going home on her own in the state she was in.

“Mindy said you drove with Chad?” 

“Mm, yeah. He doesn’t mind me driving myself home though. He said he’d—” she hiccupped, “—get a ride with Ethan.”

“Well I do mind. You’re too drunk to drive Tara.” She just stared up at you as you spoke. “You can stay over,” you lightly sighed as you offered your hand to her.

Tara bit her lip as she continued to stare up at you, but after a beat of silence she took your hand—not without tripping, causing her to fall into your arms.

“You okay?” You asked in a soft voice, and she simply nodded her head as she continued to look at you.

Tara had so much to tell you, but she stopped herself before she could.

You both walked out to your car—Tara clinging on to your arm as she walked like she had two left feet. You never thought Tara Carpenter could be any more clumsy than she already was, but here you were. 

You opened the car door, “Sorry that it took so long.” 

“I see you didn’t just bring back your phone,” Anika remarked, not hiding her knowing look. You strapped Tara in the backseat, making sure she was comfortable, before going to the driver’s seat.

“She’s too drunk to be her own ride, so I offered,” you responded. You gave Tara one last glance from the rear view mirror—which didn’t go unnoticed by Anika—to see that Tara was already passed out. You started to pull out and made your way to your apartment. There wasn’t much talking on the ride over. The only sound coming from the car was the music, but even that was put at a low volume. You tried your best to avoid the holes so Tara could sleep fine. You cursed your government for not using your taxes to fill holes with more cement. 

By the time you got to your apartment Tara was still sound asleep. You told Anika she could get a head start and that you would catch up with her. After she left you got out of our seat and walked around your car to open the door to Tara’s seat. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Tara…we’re here,” you whispered in a soft tone. Tara only shuffled slightly but never opened her eyes. You lightly squeezed her shoulder, “Come on. We’re here…”

You slightly shook your head.

“...You’re so lucky I live on the second floor.” You scooped her up and she subconsciously nuzzled her head in the nook of your neck. You carried her up the apartment stairs, and once you got to the door you knocked with your head—since your hands were obviously full at the moment.

That night, you didn’t mind sleeping on the couch.

—

Tara woke up with a pounding headache, causing her to groan as she slowly sat up. She rubbed her eyes, yawning. Suddenly everything came crashing down on her like a tidal wave.

“Shit shit shit,” she looked around for her phone. She couldn’t believe how stupid she was. Sam was going to kill her for sure—if she was actually home? Yeah…she’s going to kill her for sure. 

It didn’t take long for her to realize where she was. “Fuck, not again,” she groaned into her hands. 

If Tara had a nickel for everytime she woke up in your bed she would have two nickels—which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice. Before she could retrace her steps there were two knocks on the door. 

“Come in,” She said and you opened the door slightly, peaking your head before fully coming inside. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I see you’ve, uh, woken up.” You awkwardly stood with your arms crossed.

“Yeah…”

Tara turned her head, closing her eyes and letting out an inaudible sigh before turning back to look at you. “Listen, I’m sorry this is, like, the second time. You shouldn’t have to take care of me while I’m shitfaced.”

You slightly pouted out your bottom lip, faintly shaking your head and waving her off. 

“No problem.”

After a moment you finally break the awkward silence, “Why do you do this?”

“What?”

“This? Go out to parties so often, and have drink after drink?” Tara furrowed her eyebrows at you, not understanding where you were going with this. 

“What do you mean by that?” She asked, feeling offended by the question. 

“I just mean, don’t you get tired of it?”

Tara let out a faint scoff, “I like my life, thank you very much.” She now sat up a little straighter as she looked at you from where you stood. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. Come on, Tara—you know that.” 

“No, I don’t actually,” Tara got up from your bed, making her way to the door. She reached for the handle but you blocked it.

“Stop it, Y/N.”

“No, you stop it. What’s your problem, Carpenter? You really think I wouldn’t notice you ignoring me?” 

Tara opened her mouth to speak but you quickly cut her off. “You even changed your seat in history. How is that nothing?” You hated how vulnerable you felt right now. The hurt was noticeable in your voice.

“I– I just need space…” Tara sighed, running her hands down her space.

“What—why? ...Did I do something?” You asked, feeling yourself grow smaller as she looked back at you. 

Tara saw you staring down at her like a lost puppy. She hated what that was doing to her. She hated how you were able to make her feel things so easily. 

“No! No, I just need space, okay? Not everything’s about you!” Her raised voice caused you to flinch and take a step back; Tara hated herself at that moment. 

“Okay,” you replied in a quiet voice. 

“Y/N I didn’t—”

“If you need anything, Anika’s up.” 

Before Tara could say anything, you were gone. 

—

You knew very little about the person who now sat where Tara previously did. Tara either paid her to switch or the woman really just didn’t mind. You haven’t introduced yourself to her yet.

You heard her name being called once; Charlotte. You were too stubborn to actually ask her for her name. It didn’t take long for Charlotte to pick up on your silence. Truth be told she noticed you in class before. So when Tara approached her about a seat change, she asked no further questions and agreed.

“Hey,” Charlotte finally spoke up one class. “I’m Charlotte, by the way.” You turned your head slightly to look at her. There was no denying her beauty. 

“Y/N,” you simply responded before turning back to your notes. Charlotte turned back to her own work while she mustered her next words. 

“So, you’re not much of a talker huh,” she nervously chuckled. You looked at her from the corner of your eye before averting your stare back to your notes. “I guess,” you murmured.

Throughout class you resisted looking back at Tara, and occasionally Charlotte would miss something so she would politely ask you for your notes, which you then would silently turn your papers for her to see.

You kept your head down and didn’t meet her gaze as you did this, but if you did you would have seen her warm smile; in a way you felt it.

After class you heard footsteps running up to you. You turned around to see Charlotte. “I just wanted to thank you for the notes,” she told you. 

You spared a faint smile before responding, “No problem.” You watched as she took out a little piece of paper and handed it to you. When you took it you could see numbers written on it. 

“I’d love to thank you over a cup of coffee or even dinner or something. That’s my number, so you can call or text whenever you want.” You lightly nodded at her as you looked at the paper.

“See you around, Y/N,” she smiled at you again before taking off. 

“What do we have here?” The voice causes you to jump a bit, before rolling your eyes when you see the culprit. 

“Geez, Anika. Quit sneakin’ up on my like that,” you sighed as you two started walking.

“Maybe if you were more self aware, you would notice your friend being right next to you,” Anika commented. 

“Whatever.”

“Anyways, who was that?”

“Just some chick from my history class,” you said in a nonchalant manner. 

“Does she happen to have your…interest?” She asked you with a quirked up eyebrow. 

You thought for a second before answering. “I guess.”

“ ‘I guess’? Gee. How descriptive.” Anika remarked sarcastically. You rolled your eyes at her, adjusting the strap of your bag.

“I don’t know, okay? I’m still figuring some shit out, but maybe I do.” You shrugged, you and Anika taking a turn.

“By ‘figuring shit out’ do you mean, Tara?” She asked knowingly. That made you do a double take at your roommate. 

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed dramatically. 

“You know I overheard that argument you two had, right?” 

“I don’t know exactly what you heard but it’s not what you think,” you sighed, eyes looking everywhere but Anika. You hated when she was right.

“Really? Cause’ it seems like she’s the girl that has you so worked up.”

“Stop it.” You said with annoyance in your tone, growing slightly flustered from being called out.

—

You sat at the seat across from Charlotte . You both eventually had decided to go out on Friday night for dinner. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to take up her offer. So, that’s where you were; sitting in a diner with her across from you. 

Your hands rested on your lap as you listened to her speak. She had cinnamon skin, gorgeous hair and dark brown eyes. You couldn’t help but admire dark brown eyes; they were so easy to drown in. 

“So, enough about me. What about you?” She suddenly asked.

“What about me?” You echoed, taking a sip of your milkshake.

“I want to get to know you. Right now you’re just the quiet girl who I sit next to in history, and cute at that,” she winked at you. 

You lightly blushed at the compliment before replying. “I don’t really know what to say. Mind giving me some starter questions?”

“Okay, you got any siblings?”

“Yup. Two brothers, Stephen and Oliver.”

“You like them?”

“Tolerate’ em.”

She let out a giggle before continuing. “Are you the oldest or youngest?”

“I’m in the middle, actually. Oliver’s the oldest and Stephen’s the youngest.” 

You soon found out she had two sisters and two brothers, both her parents were doctors, and her favorite color’s purple. As the night went on you two found out a little more about one another. It was nice just talking. You weren’t sure if this was a date but the thought hung around in your head.

Would it be so bad if it was?

You walked the city’s streets with Charlotte, your jacket hung from your arm as she hugged her own closely. 

“This was really nice, I’d love to do it again sometime,” She spoke up.

You looked at her then back at the ground, a small smile starting to graze your face. 

“Yeah…that’d be nice,” You said genuinely, before she stopped at an apartment building. 

“Well, this is me.”

“I’ll see you around?”

“Of course,” she smiled at you, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” she said before leaving. 

You stood there, slightly stunned from the kiss. It was no secret that it had been a while since you’ve been in a genuine relationship. 

Maybe—just maybe, Charlotte could be the one to change that. 

—

The next day you went to work your shift. You passed the time like you usually did; if you weren’t serving customers you had music in your ears and cleaning counters that you’ve already wiped down a hundred times before that same day.

The bell above the door rings, but you don’t look up as you say, “Welcome to The Coffee Club.” Your voice was monotone. 

The person stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw you. It wasn’t until they were shoved to the counter by someone beside them that you looked up. 

You opened your mouth as you lifted your head, but quickly shut it as soon you saw the person.

“Oh. It’s you.” Your voice wasn’t laced with bitterness or rudeness, just a slight shock from seeing her here. If your voice was not a give away of that then your expression definitely was. Your eyes were widened a bit, your eyebrows were raised and you almost looked…flushed? 

“Uh, what can I get you?” You asked, clearing your throat and trying to sound unfazed by her presence.

“Um, just a…” Tara trailed off as she suddenly forgot what she came here for. Mindy looked between you two.

“Hot chocolate?” You finished for Tara. All Tara could do was nod at you. 

“And I’ll have a hot coffee; milk and sugar please,” Mindy spoke up, breaking whatever staring contest you and Tara had going on.

“I’ll, uh, get on that right now.” You put your pen behind your ear. Tara and Mindy sat at a table nearby as you prepared their orders. 

“What was that?” 

Tara groaned at her friend, holding her face with her hands. “I don’t know. I had completely forgotten she works here most days,” she answered, her voice coming out slightly muffled due to her hand still covering her face. 

“You’re still giving her the silent treatment, aren’t you?” Mindy asked even though she already knew the answer.

“Well, I uh…kind of made it worse…”

“How?” Mindy asked, slightly dragging out the H while furrowing her eyebrows.

“We had a bit of an argument last week,” Tara answered, the memories of that morning painfully flashing through her mind.

“About what?”

“I snapped at her over something really stupid, and—God I can’t stop thinking about her face when I did that.” Tara let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding in. 

“By snapped, what do you mean, like, you yelled at her or something?” Tara sighed and nodded, looking away—feeling ashamed of herself.

“I think you two just need to talk, for real this time.” 

“I don’t want to—” She inhaled, looking down at her hands. 

“Don’t want to what?”

“Hurt her again…” Tara answered in a quiet voice. 

“Tar, listen to me, you’re one of the best people I know, and you can be gentle when you want to be. Just be you,” Mindy told her honestly.

“Maybe when you two finally make up you can make that dream you had a reality and make out already—”

“Mindy!”

Before Tara could say anything else, you walked up to the table with their drinks.

“One hot coffee with milk and sugar, and a hot chocolate,” you repeated their order. Mindy said thank you, and so did Tara—not without Mindy kicking her under the table to do so—before taking a sip of the steaming hot drink.

The mug covered her eye line, so she didn’t see you sneak a Strawberry donut with sprinkles—or as she likes to call it, a Homer Simpson donut—in front of her. By the time she did notice you were already gone.

You had a habit of disappearing without saying goodbye. 

When Mindy and Tara finished, they made their way back to the apartment. They walked into the apartment to find Chad and Ethan playing Resident Evil four. 

“You’re still playing this game?” Tara inquired, pulling off her jacket and throwing it somewhere. Mindy let out a slight chuckle before making her way to the kitchen.

“All. Fucking. Day.” Sam replied, coming into the living room. 

“I don’t blame them. Have you seen Ada?”

“They haven’t gotten up in seven hours.”

“I got it,” was all Tara said, before walking away.

Five seconds later she came back with a spray bottle.

—

The doorbell rings, interrupting you mid sentence as you were on the phone with Anika. 

“Hey, I gotta go. Talk to ya later?” You said your goodbyes to each other before walking up to the door. You weren’t sure who could be visiting but whoever it was was growing impatient. 

“Alright, alright! I’m coming,” you called out, walking up to the door. 

You finally unlocked and opened it to—unexpectedly—Tara. This took you by surprise which was evident from your expression. There wasn’t much to go off from but Tara’s known you long enough to read even your littlest details. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.” There was a beat of awkward silence before Tara finally spoke up again.

“Can I come in? I need to talk to you,” she told you. You responded by opening the door wider, letting her inside the apartment. 

Her eyes wandered around the room before landing them back on you. You quickly averted your gaze, realizing you have been staring at the younger Carpenter a little too long. 

“Been a while since I’ve been here,” Tara said, sitting down on the couch.

You let out a dry chuckle before responding. “You’re telling me…” 

Tara noticed you were still standing, choosing to lean against the wall rather than sit near her. Just then, she remembered why she came here.

“So, what do you want?” You asked unkindly. 

Tara took a second to muster what she wanted to say. She didn’t want to mess this up. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing this time. 

She didn’t want to hurt you again.

“I’m sorry.” 

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, not expecting an apology. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, and I’m sorry for blatantly avoiding you for the past few weeks,” she said in one breath. 

“Wait—I wasn’t expecting an apology. I thought you were gonna yell at me again or something,” you poorly joked with a dry chuckle. 

“That wasn’t my best moment,” she said with shame in her voice. She could never forget your face that morning or how you backed away from her as if she would hurt you. 

You looked down at your shoes, considering Tara’s words. You should get your revenge—make her pay for the past few weeks. But instead you decided against it, for whatever reason, you decided against it. Maybe it was her voice as she spoke, maybe it was the bags under her eyes, or maybe it was just simply her. Whatever it was, it caused you to let her off easy.

“I’ll accept your apology on one condition.”

“Anything,” Tara replied, a little too quickly. 

“Stop avoiding me,” you said in a softer voice, and you slowly began to take the seat beside her. 

“Deal,” Tara promised, looking at you.

“Pinky swear?” You held up your pinky, for her take.

Tara couldn’t help the smile that grew as she took your pink in hers. 

“Pinky swear.” 

“Now that you’re not avoiding me anymore, you wanna go over last class’s notes?” Already moving on as if she hadn’t been giving her the silent treatment for the past for weeks, and you weren’t still curious as to why.

Your pinkies unlocked, Tara missing the contact.

“Well, you know how much I looove doing that,” Tara sarcastically answered. 

“Ha. Ha.” You got up from the couch, “I’m gonna go get my binder. Give me like two seconds.” You said before rushing away to your room like a child who was having a playdate, rushing off to grab a toy for you and your friend to play with. 

Tara couldn’t stop smiling to herself at the sight of you. It had been far too long since she’s seen you one on one like this. She hated to admit it but she missed you more than she realized. Now that she was thinking about it, she missed a lot of things about you; your smile, your voice, your humor, how you lit up a room with just your presence, even that fuzzy feeling you gave her.

Oh.

Oh, Mindy was right. Tara had somehow found herself crushing on you.

“Fuck.”

-----------

A/N: Platonic!Chara>>> (dw gonna do that justice later)

I wonder who R saw in the mirror...

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax @andsoigotabutterfly

---

Let The Light |7|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Seven: Tis' The Damn Season

Summary: After that eventful night at Tara's apartment, you find yourself pondering on a few things, but your banter with Tara never ceases. There is enough on your plate as it is, so when you bump into a familiar face it catches you completely off guard

Warning(s): Swearing, making out, mentions of drinking & intoxication, r has a case of bad communication, chemistry (like the actual subject 😣), compulsions, & implied anxiety

Notes: I took over a year off to cut you readers some slack, tell a friend to tell a friend - she's baackkk! 🤭 Ik you missed these stubborn little jerks, so did I. Also not this chapter being at like 10k+ words. Even then, there was a bunch more I wanted to add but I figured I'd save it for the next chapter (already plotting) I didn't wanna keep you waiting any longer than I already have

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

The box of pizza and plate of wings sat completely abandoned, forgotten, on Charlotte’s coffee table as her hands traveled to your neck. You let your own hands drop to her hips, pulling her in. Her lips felt soft, yet foreign. You ignored that thought and continued to kiss her, slipping in your tongue while she maneuvered her way onto your lap.

Everything felt hot, you could feel your face heat up as she ever so slightly played with the hem of your shirt. When you gave her the silent signal, she slipped a hand under your shirt—not too high of course, but enough to feel your hips. You felt goosebumps at her touch, suddenly feeling nervous. You once again pushed any negative thoughts to the back of your mind, continuing to kiss her. 

That’s when it clicked. Why you got so nervous all of a sudden, your mind was trying to tell you something, warn you.

You separated from her lips. She looked at you, a confused expression on her face. You weren’t meeting her eye line, feeling rather timid at the moment. “Are you okay?” She asked you. You barely heard her with your heartbeat drumming so loudly in your ears. 

“Um…” You cleared your throat, still not meeting her gaze. “Yeah… I just—sorry.” Charlotte’s expression stayed put as you managed to remove yourself from the couch. 

“Did I do something?” She asked, moving to also stand up. She looked at you with what you could only describe as confusion and concern. You couldn’t blame her one bit—one second you’re all over each other, the next you’re pulling back like she stung you.

“No—no, no, no,” you shook your head while gesturing with your right hand. “You did nothing wrong. I um,” you finally looked to meet her gaze, “it’s just been awhile, I guess.” You could only hope she didn’t see through your lame excuse, it wasn’t completely untrue. 

“Oh,” Charlotte said. “…Oh,” she then repeated when she realized what you meant. “Shit, I didn’t push you did I?” 

“I promise you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve just been in a weird place  …for a while,” you shrugged, not expecting to add that last part, your tone getting lower as you spoke those words.

“I get it,” she mustered an understanding tone. 

A suffocating silence enveloped the room for a few seconds, causing you to look out the nearby window to be met with pitch darkness.

“It’s actually getting pretty late anyways and I’ve got an early shift in the morning…” You said while slowly getting your jacked that hung from the couch. 

“Of course. Call me?” 

“Yeah,” you briefly smiled at her while adjusting the collar of your jacket. “Sorry, again, for making things awkward,” you apologized while grabbing the last of your things.

“No, don’t worry about it. Stuff happens,” she waved you off while managing a reassuring tone. 

You nodded at her before muttering, “thanks,” and finally leaving the apartment. As soon as you walked out into the crisp night air, you exhaled your own pocket of air you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

That’s when it all came crashing down; the awkwardness, stupidness, and cringyness that came from the situation all because you were scared to let your situationship see your scars. 

Nice going.

You repeated words like moron, idiot, and dumbass while you walked to your car—the train of thought never breaking as you drove to your apartment. Manhattan’s late-night traffic didn’t exactly ease your frustration. You were in the middle of cursing out the car in front of you when your phone started to ring.

Still feeling ridiculously stupid, you were going to let it just ring out, but that was before you saw the contact name. 

You answered the phone. “Tara?” You immediately asked with furrowed eyebrows. Why on earth is she calling you so late?

“Y/NN,” you heard her slur over the phone. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, immediately realizing what you were about to be in for. Before you could get another word out, she interrupted you. “Have I ever told you you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts?” 

Your eyes widened as heat rushed to your face, your hands nearly slipping off the wheel. The tips of your ears suddenly began to feel very warm while your mouth opened and closed a few times before you could get sound to come out.

“I—uh,” you cleared your throat before continuing. “Where are you right now?”

“Hommee. Where else?” Her answer was followed by hiccups.

“I’m coming over,” you said firmly before hanging up. Being distracted any further by her voice was the last thing you needed right now.  You silently hoped nothing drastic was waiting for you at her apartment as you changed your route.

When were you going to stop jinxing things?

—

It had now been a few weeks since the night at Tara’s apartment took place. Not long after you put her to bed, you gave yourself some time to reflect on her words. And ever since that night, you have been repeating them in your head whenever you were with the Carpenter. It seems as though she was able to move on easily, at least, her silence on the topic made it appear that way. On the outside, you gave the impression that you too had moved on from that night, that it had not affected you whatsoever. But on the inside, you were in emotional turmoil. With replaying your memories, that same tightening feeling in your chest that you felt that night reappeared.

There were so many key points of that night to completely crumble over; for starters, the incident with Charlotte. You are beyond embarrassed thanks to your repulsion for emotional intimacy. You knew if she saw your scars questions would ensue, thus putting you in an uncomfortable position to spill your guts out. The last thing you needed was for that to happen, but that alone had you thinking.

You’ve been on over four dates with Charlotte now and you have no idea where you stand with her. She’s just a situation-ship as of right now, and for all you know she could be seeing this as more. But the thought of asking her where you stand with her makes you emotionally grimace and cause your stomach to churn. 

If you can’t even talk to her about your relationship status, should you even continue seeing her? This question had you thinking even further. Maybe you rushed into this relationship, maybe it was far too soon. Was nearly a year too soon? 

That was the last time you were in a relationship, the last time you allowed yourself any form of emotional intimacy with a partner. But that was the result of three years, three years of building trust and connection. It was going to take a lot more than just a few dates with someone you don’t truly know to recreate that. It was going to take effort.

As for the Tara part of that night, you didn’t even know where to begin. Where could you? From her compliments to her insults, the night was certainly an eventful one. And just to think, you had seen her just hours before and there hadn’t seemed to be any issues. 

The coming semester is certainly going to be an interesting one.

—

You and Tara were in your apartment, huffing and groaning could be heard throughout your room. She sat cross legged at the edge of your bed while you were leaned up against the headboard. Papers sprawled all over the bed, pens and pencils scattered—almost imitating what the inside of your mind currently looked like.

“Was the first sheet you gave me—was it nine or seven?!”

You let out a huff, mixed with a long sigh, at Tara’s repeated question. After running a hand down your face, you slid closer beside her to get a better look at her paper. “This is table nine right here,” you emphasized by rapidly tapping your pencil on the spot of the paper you wanted her to focus on.

She rolled her eyes as she mumbled, “Oh my god—” She turned her head to looked at you as she huffed, “Answer my fucking question with a yes or a no; was it a yes—was it a nine or a seven?”

You muttered a few curses under your breath—curses you knew she heard because of your close proximity—before taking your pencil to her paper once again. “Alright, okay so I’m gonna circle this—”

“What the fuck—?!”

“This is—this is nine,” you glanced at her for a moment to make sure she was paying attention. All you were met with was a dumbfounded look.

“But what’s the top??”

“That’s table seven.” 

There were a few seconds of her just staring at the paper and you looking between her and the paper until she said something.

“What?” Her voice indifferent.

“So I’m assuming you don’t get it…”

She turned her gaze from her paper to you, hitting you with a hard glare. “No, asshole. I don’t get it.” She then threw her pencil to the side and got up from the bed. Her arm brushes against yours as she does so but you choose not to pay any mind.

“I’m so tired of chemistry,” she all but whined before dramatically plopping back down on your bed face first.

“You’re the one that said you needed help,” you pointed out while curiously flipping through her notebook. “I remember wanting to stick with routine and work on our history project.” Her doodles are cute.

“So helpful,” she sarcastically remarked, muffled; she was still face planted on your mattress, right beside you. 

“I try,” you reply in a monotone voice; you were still flipping through her notes as you talked.

Tara rolled over on her back, pushing loose strands of her raven hair away from her face. She exhaled before clearing her throat—which didn’t get your attention, so she tried again …and again, after the third time she just settled for throwing a nearby pillow at your head.

You finally turned to look at her with furrowed eyebrows and a hand to the back of your head. “Um, can I help you?”

“Can we just start on the math now?”

“You couldn’t have asked that without the pillow to my head?” You asked incredulously.

“Do you have this, like, mental illness that prevents you from properly answering ‘yes or no’ questions—”

“Get your other notes out before I change my mind.” 

Tara scrambled over to the side of the bed, reaching over to grab her bag that sat beside your bed. She quickly wiped off a giddy smile as she took out her needed papers. You were neatly setting her previous papers to the side as she did so.

“Alright, what do you got for me, Carpenter?” You inquired while she scooted back next to you; you’re both sitting side by side, leaning against your bed’s headboard as you looked at the page of notes she was showing you. 

“This is basically everything that's going to be on my exam next week,” her stress regarding her exams was evident from her tone. “Some topics I’m good with, other’s I’m okay with, and a few I’m struggling with.” She turned to look at you, eyes practically burning holes in the side of your head with a pleading look. Pleading for you to help her.

After a moment of silence—of you intently staring at the paper—you hummed to yourself, nodding, as you finally returned Tara’s gaze before speaking. “I have highlighters; I want you to circle the ones you’re okay with in orange, and the one’s you’re struggling with in red,” you told her while reaching into the drawer of your nightstand for the highlighters. 

All you got was a brief, “Mhm,” while you blindly thrashed your hand around for the highlighters. When you finally got the right colors, you handed them to her before getting up from your bed which earned you a confused look from the other girl.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom. Don’t miss me too much,” you couldn't help but smirk at the girl, leaving before she had the chance to counteract. You weren’t sure if you were smirking because of your own remark, or if it was thought Tara was missing you. It definitely left a warm feeling inside of you.

She doesn’t miss you. She wants less of you, remember? Your head reminded you, causing that familiar feeling of your chest tightening. Your breathing was still a bit hollow from the feeling as you finished up in the bathroom and walked back to your bedroom.

“You finished?” You asked Tara while returning to your previous seat beside her. 

“Yes but I have a proposition for you,” Tara responded almost immediately. You stopped your movements, eyeing her with a suspicious look. 

“Lay it on me,” you said.

“We can continue doing all this,” she gestured to her notes, “—but instead we can do it in a place with food.”

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate, please.”

“I want to go to the diner nearby, and finish studying there. I’m tired and starving—and you haven’t gone grocery shopping in weeks so I already know there’s not much to find in your fridge.”

“Wait, how do you know the last time I went shopping?”

Tara ignored your question, instead continuing to look at you with those doe eyes of hers as she continued to plead. “Pleeeaaase, Y/N?”

You looked at her, feigning a reluctant look before letting out a sigh. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Thank goodness. My stomach was starting to make noises I’ve never heard before,” she said as she was gathering her papers.

—

“Done!” Tara announced in a cheery tone. You looked up from your book as she slid over the sheet of loose leaf she was just working on. “I put a star next to number three; I was having trouble with that one the most,” she told you before sipping her half drunken milkshake. 

You nodded her way as your eyes skimmed her paper. “All these are correct—including number three. Was there a specific reason you didn’t fully understand it?”

“Mainly the order of the steps,” she answered.

“I see. Well you were correct. But if you continue to have trouble with the memorization stuff, flashcards are great memorization tools. Especially colored ones. I can lend you some of you want,” you offered her while giving her back the piece of paper.

“Oh—yeah. Totally,” she chuckled before loudly clearing her throat and practically shoving the straw in her milkshake into her mouth. There was something that washed over her—possibly embarrassment? You couldn’t be too sure. But why would she be embarrassed? Sometimes you wish you could hear her thoughts, just so you could get some insight on what was going through her head during certain moments.

Tara stared down at her straw, subconsciously refusing to pick up her head until she felt less flushed. That was so embarrassing, she kept thinking to herself. ToTalLy! Goodness, Tara, she just offered you some flash cards—not her hand in marriage. Her cheeks got even warmer at the idea.

“You good, Tar?” You just had to ask with that painfully soft voice you get when you’re concerned. Oh, and why did you have to call her Tar? She still remembers when you called her Tar for the first time—you and her were in her bedroom after the incident at the halloween party. She felt her knees physically grow weak as heat rushed to her ears, and now she’s found herself in that same predicament due to you opening your stupid, occasionally sweet, mouth. 

“Hm? Great!”

“Um,” you let out a short, awkward, and airy laugh. “Okay, good, yeah.” Your eyes subconsciously took a quick scan around the diner due to Tara’s sudden volume change. “So anyways, from the looks of those problems, you’re gonna nail your exam. Just try not to overthink your answers too much.”

Tara hummed before returning to her milkshake just to realize she was all out. Guess she’s going to have to find another thing to distract her eyes from you.

You, on the other hand, were still confused. Did you say something? Why did she seem so timid all of a sudden? Did the flashcards somehow cross a line? If so, in what way did it? Tara was being a little too silent for your liking, which is really saying something considering how much you value your quiet time. 

You were about to do one of the hardest things you have ever done. Attempt small talk.

You cleared your throat, “So. How’s—how are you and uh Chad?” This finally got Tara to look up. She eyed you with a confused expression. “Like, dating and stuff,” you awkwardly added. Your palms were already growing sweaty as your leg began to bounce. 

“Me and Chad? Dating?” That’s when she bursted out laughing, handing over her mouth and everything. You suddenly felt like a total dumbass but you weren’t sure as to why. Were they no longer dating? Well obviously, if you had to take anything from her reaction. But you weren’t doing a lot of laughing when you and your ex-girlfriend broke up.

“Oh—I’m sorry, let me catch my breath for a second.” She literally wiped away a tear from how hard she was laughing before speaking up again. “Y/N, Me and Chad are not together.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. And we never will be, never ever ever.”

“Never ever?” 

“Never ever.”

You couldn’t help the sudden wave of relief that washed over you, but you weren’t sure where it came from.

“But I saw you two kissing at a party,” you told her.

“Right …that. Yeah, I try not to think about that night if I’m being honest. It was honestly super embarrassing; I was completely drunk, so drunk to the point where I thought he was… someone else,” her voice grew a little quieter towards the end as she sank a little in her booth.

“Oh.” Was all you said. You didn’t know what else to say. What could you? That night was a misunderstanding, and judging by Tara’s words and reaction to the accusation of her and Chad dating—that relationship is long from happening. Yet another feeling of relief washed over you as you had that thought. 

“Yeah,” Tara shrugged. That’s when something clicked in her head …she could use this awkward discussion to her advantage. “Since we’re on the topic of dating, how are you and Charlotte? You haven’t mentioned her in a while.” And good riddance for that, she silently thought to herself. 

“I kinda ended that,” you nonchalantly answered before shoving a fry in your mouth. 

“Oh that sucks,” she feigned a sympathetic tone. “It seemed like you two were really hitting it off.”

“I guess.”

Tara wanted to leave it that, really she did, but she just couldn’t help but pry. “Something happened?” She asked you.

“Nope. Just fizzled, I guess. situation-ships do that sometimes, not surprising.”

“Wait, ‘situation-ship’? What do you mean by that?” Her question and her tone of interest had you looking at her with raised eyebrows, utterly confused for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“Like, it wasn’t serious. I wouldn't call her my girlfriend, doubt she’d call me hers. Nothing more than a casual relationship,” you responded, for some reason you felt the need to tread lightly.

“Didn’t you go on like five dates? If you go on multiple dates, that means you’re dating. Thus the word dating being an extension to date,” she sternly replied. 

“Alright, I understand the responsibility of a verb—why are you getting upset over this?”

“I’m not upset.” The pout she wore as she defensively crossed her arms with slumped shoulders told you otherwise. “I just—I don’t know. I want pie.”

“Okay. I’ll get you pie, but could we please switch to a different subject?”

“Fine,” she mumbled; her gaze may have been directed toward her napkin, but it threatened to meet you every second. 

—

“I can’t believe you finally watched it!” You exclaimed to Tara. The both of you were headed back to your apartment; it was dark out as it lightly snowed. You were holding the bag of leftovers, walking on the street-side of the sidewalk as Tara kept her hands firmly placed in her jacket pockets, protecting them from what felt like sub-zero temperature.

“I only avoided it for so long because of you!” She laughed.

“Wow, so you’ve been missing out on one of the greatest shows of all time due to pettiness?”

“Okay, okay—I said it was good, not great.”

“Ah, but you wanna say great. It’s that darn pettiness holding you back, once again,” you said as your smile never broke.

“Did you just say ‘darn’?”

“Yeah, what?” 

Tara only laughed as she shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Oh! You should watch the extended cut—if you thought it was funny before, you're gonna love the superfan episodes.”

“I’ll give them a shot,” she truthfully responded. She would say anything to keep you talking like this. One of the things she loved listening to was you geeking out over something you were passionate about. Maybe it was the sound of your voice, maybe it was how you lit up, maybe it was how animated you were while talking. 

“Definitely do—” You were cut off by a body colliding into you, causing you to drop the bag of leftovers you were carrying. You muttered a “sorry” before crouching down to pick it up. Tara was about to help until your eyes met with the other person’s.

“Y/N?” The stranger asked.

“Olivia?” You mirrored a confused look.

What was your highschool sweetheart from Woodsborro doing in the middle of Manhattan?

“Oh my gosh—it really is you.” Olivia laughed a bit as the realization set in. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit too. 

“Yeah—yeah, and it’s you.” You responded before she came in for a hug. Your movement stuttered for a second before welcoming her hug. She was still as warm as the day you met, her dark hair still holding its shine it did since the last time you saw her.

The hug was understandably awkward, but for once you didn’t mind awkward. “What are you doin’ in New York?” You finally asked her. 

“I’m here for this documentary thing I’m working on,” she said.

“That’s right—your documentaries. I’m glad you’re still doing those,” you told her with a genuine tone.

She grew a smile at the words you spoke. “Thanks… that means a lot.”

“Oh—uh, you remember Tara, right?” You turned and briefly pointed at the Carpenter who slightly waved.

“Yeah, I do. Hey,” Olivia said with no bitterness. She took a few steps and held out her hand to Tara, which the other girl took.

“Hey,” Tara nodded with a tight lipped smile.

“I’m surprised you two are out in public together,” Olivia joked. You and Tara both laughed awkwardly at your dynamic being brought up.

“Me too,” you joked back. “So uh—you staying long?” You asked, purposely deflecting to a different topic.

“It’s currently indefinite, I’m crashing at a friend’s place right now.” There was a glint in your eye that Olivia picked up. “Would you like to grab coffee sometime? I’d love to catch up.”

“Yeah, that sounds cool,” you replied; you were trying your best to hide your eagerness. 

“Awesome,” she grinned at you. “So, see you around?”

“See you around,” you said. You instantly began to cringe at yourself as she started walking away, but she didn’t leave without giving you one last look. As soon as she left ear shot, you let out a long awaited sigh.

“Geez.” The sound of Tara’s voice caused you to flinch, you completely forgot she was standing right there. “That was hard to watch,” she remarked.

“No one asked,” you said with an eye roll as the two of you began to walk again. 

“Someone’s bitter,” she replied. “Hey—” She put the back of her hand on your chest to stop you from walking as she turned to look at you, “Let’s go to my place instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanna finish these leftovers on the roof,” she answered.

“My apartment has a roof,” you told her.

“Not the same.”

“How is it not the same?”

“It's just not. Now come on before our food gets even colder and more destroyed.”

“I guess I’m following you,” you mumbled while trailing behind Tara.

—

You and Tara were sitting on white patio chairs; the same ones you recall from the last few times you’ve been up on the roof. The wind had calmed down since your walkover, snow still lightly falling from the sky. You were eating your fries as Tara was eating what was left of her pie. 

“I’m just saying, I could totally take down a bear.”

“Not in a million years, Tara. You, a 5 foot gremlin, versus a big furry thing with claws that could rip you to shreds? Be serious,” you deadpanned.

“First of all, I’m 5 foot 1, second of all, you’re really underestimating me here. If I can take down a sociopath while crippled—”

Tara didn’t talk about Woodsboro a whole lot, really the only time she’s talked about it—with you at least—was the night it happened, the party at Henry’s house, and just now if that even counted. She never seemed to name-drop anyone connected to that night. But you understood. You don’t remember the last time you said Dewey’s name out loud. 

“A sociopath? Yes. But last I checked, the said sociopath didn’t have the same physical traits as a bear—therefore, your argument holds no power.” You shoved a few fries in your mouth before silently offering her some, in which she accepted.

You glanced over at her to see her expression—she looked kind of disappointed. You sighed, thinking for a moment, before speaking again. “Okay, I’m not saying you have no chance. You’d still do some damage—and I guess it’s not impossible to beat a bear.” You hated the instant flip in your stomach from seeing the way she lit up, it was subtle but you’re grateful you noticed.

She smiled, almost grinning but she resisted. “That’s what I’m saying!”

“Jump on its back, put it in a headlock,” you added with your own little smile.

“Exactly. You get me,” she absentmindedly said right before taking another bite of her pie.

“What a mad world we live in,” you joked while reaching beside your chair for your milkshake. Tara wasn’t sure what you meant by that, but she just decided to ignore it rather than dwell on it—at least for the moment. She looked over to see you sipping your milkshake and a sly smile appeared on her face as she began to lean closer to you, her elbows resting on her chair’s armrest and expression never faltering.

“You want something, Tar?” 

“That’s an awfully tasty looking milkshake you have there,” she commented; she feigned an innocent tone.

You glanced at her from your peripheral vision—she was on your left side—as you played with the straw in your milkshake. “Tara…” You all but sang. She hummed in response, her position still the same. “Would you like my milkshake?” You asked, but your tone hinted that you already knew what her answer was going to be.

“Well, I guess since you’re offering. Who would I be to pass up a perfectly good milkshake?”

“You’re a piece of work,” you remarked with a broad smile that Tara could describe as gleaming. 

“You’re the sucker who gave me her milkshake,” she sneered before taking a sip from said milkshake.

“I’d watch my tone if I were you, ‘cause this sucker could easily take it back,” you threatened, lightly laughing along with the other girl. 

She scoffed and waved her free hand, “Yeah right. I’d like to see you try.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You get up from your chair, eyes never leaving Tara. “I bet I could take it back from you, no sweat.” 

A smirk grew on Tara’s face as she also got up from her chair. “Okay, okay, you’re on then. Winner takes all—all being the milkshake.” 

“You got yourself a deal.”

“Okay then let’s do this, come on bring it,” Tara’s grin was just too strong to fight off as she lifted up her elbows; one, to use as a shield for her milkshake, and two, to use as her weapon. 

You let out a laugh when you saw a defense mechanism. “That’s pathetic,” you quipped.

“Oh, really?” She said with raised eyebrows. She then shoved her elbows towards you, both of you laughing during all this. 

“Oh!” You took that as a chance to grab her from behind and wrap your arms around her waist, holding her in place as she attempted to break loose; in her defense, it wasn’t as easy to do so while she was flushed against you, her face heating up from both the action and her ceaseless laughter. 

The milkshake dropped to the floor, but neither of you paid any mind. You lifted her up a bit as you spoke, “Not much of a fighter now, huh?” You quipped in a smug tone. 

“You are so playing dirty right now!” She said; her shirt rose a little bit and her hands were loosely holding onto your forearms.

“I don’t remember seeing a rule book. Just surrender and I’ll put you down,” you told her as if it was the simplest thing ever; for anyone else, it would have been.

“No way!” At her response you lifted her higher at which she started rapidly patting arm. 

“You finally surrender?”

“Never in a bazillion years!” Just as Tara said that, she felt a drop of water on her forehead. She furrowed her eyebrows, glancing up at the night sky. “Shit—I think it’s raining.”

“Yeah right, you just don’t wanna be the one to surrender,” you accused while adjusting your hold on Tara.

“I actually felt—” Before Tara could finish her sentence, a loud grumble could be heard as it started to abruptly pour. “I told you!”

“Shit,” you cursed as you put Tara down.

“We need to get inside.”

“Incredible observation. Thought of being a detective?” You quipped.

“Shut up. It’s freezing, let’s just get inside.” Tara was visibly shivering, wrapping her arms around each other while hugging them close to her torso. 

“Okay, come on.” 

Tara barely let you finish speaking as she started rushing towards the door. “Wait—! Tara, don't run! You could slip!” You tried to match her speed without breaking your neck in the process. You nearly sighed in relief when she slowed down. 

She looked at you with an inpatient look as she waited for you to catch up. You were in the process of taking off your jacket as you caught up to her. “If you’re going to slow me down, at least walk a little faster. I’m getting drenched, and this outfit isn’t exactly water resistant—I’m not water resistant!”

“Geez, alright. Quit complaining.” You caught up to her, trailing behind her as you wrapped your jacket around her. “Stop looking at me funny, just open the door,” you said in response to the lost expression she gave you.

She mumbled something incoherent while reaching for the door’s handle and turning. 

As soon as you stepped inside, you let out a long exhale while rubbing your hands together. You looked beside you to see Tara attempting to shake off the water she was drenched in; of course, as a result, she ended up spraying you in the process. “Do you have to do that near me?”

“Where else am I doing it?” She tightened your jacket around her, holding it impossibly close to keep herself warm.

“Whatever, I gotta get home anyway. Picked up a few extra shifts,” you said while double checking your phone’s dryness.

“I thought the cafe gave you off on Saturdays.”

“Uh, yeah. I do. I’m—covering for a coworker, I owe them so,” you trailed off with a shrug; you batted your eyes away from Tara, suddenly finding your drenched jeans very interesting. “Well, I should get going. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, see you,” Tara responded; you made your way down the stairs but not before sparing a small smile.

—

It was the next day, 8:52 am on a Saturday. You had woken up around 4:00 since you had to get in around 7:00 to help set up and open at 8:00. Exhaustion was hitting you back and forth, the only thing that was keeping you awake, barely, was your few hours old coffee you had brought from home. Staying out late with Tara was really biting you in the ass, but you were usually tired these days so it wasn’t much of a difference.

Although it was slow since the day had just begun for many, you still found yourself dealing with incompetence so early in the morning. Truly, it was too early for this. If one more person asked about Halloween stuff, Thanksgiving stuff—any other thing they should’ve gotten months prior, you are going to bash your head into a wall.

Why are people asking their barista about stupid out of season decorations? It’s simple, the cafe wasn’t paying you enough; attending college and living off campus wasn’t getting any cheaper and you needed a reliable job. So when you saw that Target was hiring, you applied. That’s how you came to balance two jobs and some of the most insufferable customers you have ever had the displeasure of conversing with.

“I’m sorry miss, but we stopped selling that after October. But if you’d like, I can show you to the candy aisle—”

“No, listen to me, these are what I want,” she snarled while shoving her phone in your face; her phone showed a picture of the Halloween candy she wanted. “I don’t want regular sour patch, I don't want regular m&m’s, I don’t want regular reese’s pieces—I want Hal-lo-ween candy.” 

“I know that, but miss—”

“Can you just go check in the back? Please? My son has been driving me insane and I need to at least do this one thing right,” she begged.

You let out a silent sigh, “Of course. I’ll go check in the back to see if we have anything left.”

“See, now that wasn’t so hard,” she said as you made your way to the storage room. You rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore her statement. It really was too early for this.

You went into the storage and sat down on a nearby box; you just stared at the ceiling, zoning out for about a minute before heading back.

“I apologize, we don’t have what you're looking for. Is there anything else I can help with?”

She scoffed at you, clutching her purse as she did so. “No, I do not need your help because clearly it is no use. Your manager will be hearing from me,” she angrily said before strutting away.

“I’m sure he’ll love that,” you remark out loud to yourself. Once she’s out of your eye line, you let out an aggravated sigh. Working in retail is not for the weak.

You walked back to the end of the aisle and began to restock the shelves again, the thing you were previously doing before being interrupted. You picked up one of the boxes of cereal when your hand accidentally knocked something out of your pocket. It fell by your feet, you glanced at it for a moment before looking back at the shelf—but that’s when it registered what it was. You immediately placed down the box then kneeled down to pick up what you dropped. 

It was a folded piece of paper. You slightly furrowed your eyebrows as you unfolded it before you traded your confusion for a smile. You looked at the doodles that covered the paper, the doodles drawn by Tara. Her name was even signed at the corner; sometimes she draws her name in different fonts to pass the time. Over the years, you noticed her favorite font to draw is graffiti lettering. You were now standing up, still smiling down at the piece of paper. You always admired the way she wrote—

—Suddenly somebody clears their throat. You jumped, blinking rapidly while attempting to shove the paper back into your pocket. You turn your head around to see your co-worker, Avery, crossing her arms while giving you a look you couldn’t quite read. “Secret admirer?” She remarked with a smirk.

“No, it’s just—it’s nothing. Scraps, really if you could even call it that,” you stammered while trying to nonchalantly lean against the shelves. It wasn’t a total failure, you guess.  

“...Right,” she narrowed her eyes at her, clearly not believing your crappy save, but dropped it nevertheless. “Anyways, me, Vicky and a few of the others are gonna go out for a drink tonight; can I count you in?” 

You stopped leaning on the shelves as you thought for a moment. You usually weren’t one for going out, but it’s been a long few months. With that thought, everything that’s happened in the past year flashes through your mind. It’s been nothing but motion sickness, and maybe you could go for a drink or two. 

“You know what—yeah, I’m in,” you nodded at her before returning to the boxes of cereals that sat in the cart beside you. 

“Wait, really? You never wanna come to these things …damn it, I owe Vicky like 20 bucks,” Avery silently moped as she walked away. You laughed a bit at her comment as you continued stocking the shelves.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad.

—

When you got home that day, you made sure to take a nap before it was time to leave for the bar. When you got there, you stood at the doorway for a few seconds, honestly not sure what your next move was but luckily you caught Avery’s eye and she waved you over. You walked over to where she and the others sat at—the bar—you sat down on the stool beside Avery who was sat next to Vicky. You were surprised they weren’t sitting on the same stool with how tangled with each other they were.

“You made it!!” Avery shouted in a cheery voice that made you wince as she pumped her fists in the air. “Look, Vicky! Y/N’s here!”  Vicky nodded at the girl while trying to subtly ground her by rubbing her lower back.

She looked over at you with an apologetic look. “Sorry, she gets kinda loud and hyper when she’s drunk.”

You chuckled a little, giving her a reassuring shake with your head. “Don’t worry about it, I’m a pretty embarrassing drunk anyways so I couldn’t talk. Probably why I don’t do it much,” you told her while your arms rested on the table. 

“Gosh, I can’t wait to see you drunk,” she said while adjusting her arm as Avery was now resting her head on Vicky’s shoulder.

“That’s never gonna happen—just a club soda for me. At most I’ll do some watered down beer, but that’s really it,” you said. 

“Wow.”

“I know, I’m a party animal,” you quipped with sarcasm laced in your voice.

“Total rebel,” she added as you both laughed. “So, other than the fact that you’re a total bad boy—how are you liking New York?” She asked with Avery still wrapped around her who had snuggled up closer to her.

“It’s fine. Hasn’t changed much since the last time I lived here.”

“Yeah? Did you live in Manhattan before or someplace else?” 

“Brooklyn. I was born there, and lived there until …I didn’t,” you answered with your train of thought trailing off with your answer. So much has changed since you moved. What if you didn’t move? What if you never moved back? What if you lived in Woodsboro first? What if—

“—Did your family  move around a lot?” She asked another question out of pure curiosity.

“Uh…” You picked at the wood surface in front of you, suddenly feeling drained and exhausted. “ No. Just one time.” 

“Cool, my family moved around a few times. It’s a pretty hard thing to go through, even if it’s just once,” she said in an understanding tone. She looked back to Avery, smiling to herself as she stared admirably at the half-a-sleep girl nuzzled up against her. 

You glanced over at the adorable site before asking, “How long have you two been dating?”

“A couple months, but we’ve known each other for ten years,” she responded while pushing back loose strands of hair that covered Avery’s eyes.

“That’s a long time,” was all you could think to say. 

“Yeah, she’s literally my other half. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” After letting herself stare at Avery for another moment, Vicky turned her gaze back to you. “How about you—you seeing anyone?”

“Eh.”

“Eh?”

“I was uh, sort of seeing someone? But broke that off recently. Too close for comfort,” you elaborated for her while silently deciding if you should drink tonight.

“Your casual relationship get too intimate?” She raised an eyebrow before you responded with a tiny nod, she probably would have missed it if she blinked in the same moment. “Yeah, I used to be like that before Avery.” 

“Guess I just gotta wait for my Avery,” you half-joked, earning a laugh from Vicky. 

“I hope you do, she’s definitely a keeper,” she said fondly. She looked at you—your head now resting on your folded arms—and saw the distraught expression you wore, it looked as if you were silently having a debate with yourself. 

“Something up?”

You did a double-take at her, lifting up your head before sparing her a meek smile. “Just thinking, you know?”

Vicky nodded before adding on. “You need advice? I’ve always been told I give great advice.” Her voice was kind and held nothing but honesty.

“Sure…” You were hesitant to accept but you were also on the verge of digging yourself into a hole just to avoid decision making. To be fair, you often think about barricading yourself to avoid dealing with your problems—and oftentimes, you have actually done it. “So last night I bumped into my ex,” you reluctantly began, “and we briefly talked, and she mentioned meeting up sometime to catch up.”

“I’m assuming you’re nervous about the catching up part?” 

You confirmed with a hum.

“Are you nervous about being the first to reach out, the catching up part overall, or both?”

“Yes.”

She let out a tiny laugh, not unkindly, before telling you that advice she told you about not long ago. “This was all last night, right? I say, wait a couple more days, then reach out if you’re up to it, and then once you get that part out of the way the rest will build itself.”

“You really think so?”

“Promise, I really don’t think you should stress too much on this. And listen, if you’re really not ready to meet up with her yet, I think she’d understand. Either way, it’s your choice,” she told you before sipping her drink.

“That’s… really good advice. Thank you,” you complimented.

“You’re welcome, anytime. I did mention that I give great advice.”

“I said good, not great,” you said in a tone that hinted you were just teasing.

“Yeah, okay whatever.” Vicky playfully rolled her eyes as you smiled at your own taunting.

Maybe this was not as bad as you were making it out to be, maybe everything would be okay. Maybe, just maybe, things were finally starting to look up.

—

Things were awful. You could never have been so wrong in your life. It was one thing after another. First with the text; you had to just hope Olivia didn’t change her number as you looked for her contact—which you had to look for by number since your removed her name and photo right after your breakup out of pure pettiness—and it took you about half an hour to think of the right words to send, and as soon as you sent them you immediately regretted it.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Next was when she actually responded. 

Y/N (4:42 pm) Hey, it’s Y/N. Catching up sounds cool, so if the offer still stands I’d love to take you up on it

(XXX) XXX-XXXX (4:56 pm) Hi, yeah offer still stands. I’m actually free tonight if that works? I know that’s short notice so I completely understand if you’re unable to

You were in the middle of revising your notes at the kitchen counter when you heard the ding from the couch. Your head immediately shot up, and as soon as it processed what that ding was—you ran to it, hopping over the back of the couch and grabbing your phone. 

You read the message over to yourself exactly seven times before impulsively reacting to her message with a thumbs up. After your response, you got another text from Olivia and the two of you made a decision of when and where to meet. 

Oh, how deeply you regretted your impulsiveness as you stared at the same outfit over and over again. That’s what came right after the communication part; what exactly you were going to wear. You felt ridiculous, you’re usually not like this—but that happens to be a reminder of all the different things Olivia brings out in you. Good and bad. It was like you were 17 again.

Eventually you decided on something comfortable, casual, it’s not like you were going someplace fancy. The air in your apartment suddenly grew to be suffocating the closer it got to the time you had to leave. You gathered your belongings; you gathered your wallet, keys, phone, headphones, and lighter, shoving a few of them into your pockets. Just before leaving you stood still for a second.

What could I be missing? There has to be something. There has to be something. Damn it, there has to be something! 

Your eyes wandered around your apartment for a good minute before you called it in. You patted yourself down while muttering the names of the items you felt in your pockets before finally leaving. You locked up behind you and let out a long sigh as you ran your hand down your face. 

When you got to the bakery, your heart was beating in your ears and you felt your ears warm up when you made eye contact with Olivia from just a few tables away. She waved at you and you waved back as you subtly gulped. On the way towards the table, you silently hoped she didn’t pick up on the urge you had to perish right then and there.

“Hey,” you said. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to hug her or shake her hand, something, so you just stuck with sending a small but simple smile her way.

“Hi,” she responded. She returned your smile as she looked you up and down. “You look good—I mean, you look yeah,” she awkwardly laughed, flustered from her stammering.

You returned a short laugh, feeling a tiny bit of the tension beginning to ease but not entirely, “You look good too,” your smile grew softer as you spoke. You noticed her eyes still wandering. “Didn’t get a good look last time?” You quipped in a teasing tone.

She shook her head as she tried to fight off the bright smile that painted her face. “I see you haven’t changed much,” she said.

“Well, me and change have never mixed well.”

“Oh trust me, I know,” she made her tone less monotone to ease the weight of her words. But that didn’t make you oblivious to their meaning.

You cleared your throat, adjusting your posture while you folded your hands and dropped them to your lap. “So, how’s the documentary going?”

“Just fine,” she said positively. “Still in the early stages, and you know how that can be.” You nodded along to her words.  It suddenly became awkwardly quiet. 

You picked at your cuticles, pressing harder and harder for that sweet sensation you craved, your gaze everywhere but at Olivia. That tension you felt before started to settle in your chest again, and you didn’t know how to cope. You just wanted out. You regretted agreeing to this. You wish you never bumped into her. You wish you never agreed to dinner with Tara because then this wouldn't be happening. 

Of course it goes back to Tara. It always seems to.

“You still do that thing with your fingers?” She asked out of the blue.

“Huh?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at your lap to where your hands rested. 

“I don’t have to look to know. We dated for three years, Y/N,” she said.

“Oh.”

“And I can hear you picking at them from under the table.”

You suddenly felt small, slumping in your chair, and continuing to avoid eye contact with the woman who sat across from you. However, Olivia did not return this treatment. She sat up in her chair, placing her own hands on the table before turning them over to expose her palms. “Let me see your hands.” 

“What?”

“Show. Me. Your. Hands.”

 It didn’t seem like she was asking. There was definitely not a question mark in there. You rolled your eyes, letting out a small sigh that held aggravation. Reluctantly, you complied with her commands. She took your hands in hers and began to examine them, her fingers tracing down and softly rubbing against yours—you forgot how soft her hands were. As soon as her hands made contact with yours, you felt your joints grow weak and your cheeks felt too warm. You don’t remember the last time you held hands with her but it was certainly having an affect on you.

“Have you been using these as a chew toy?” She rhetorically asked, referring to your fingers whilst still examining them.

“Okay, they’re not that bad.”

“Yes. Yes they are,” she said with no hesitation.

She finally stopped looking at your fingers and instead at you. When you saw the worried expression that painted her face, you knew a line of questioning was approaching. “Are you okay?” She inquired in an unbearably gentle voice.

“I’m fine.”

“Which means you’re not fine.”

“Putting words into my mouth, as always,” you said in a low tone as you pulled your hands away from her.

“You really want to go there?” She let out a short exasperated laugh with her question, raising her eyebrows as she spoke.

“When I say I’m fine—I’m fine,” you said while leaning in and emphasizing your words by pressing on the table with your index finger; you leaned back against your chair when you finished speaking.

“Oh my God. You are literally so unbelievable—do you even hear yourself?” She looked at you with pure disbelief which only confused you further.

“What are you even talking about? All I said is that when I say I’m fine, I mean those words. How am I wrong here? I genuinely don’t understand,” you expressed in both frustration and genuine confusion.

“And what I am trying to say is you’re still the exact same person I was arguing with right before we broke up.”

“What?”

“You never want to talk! Listen, baby, I get you’re grieving—but you can’t just shut me out like this. It’s apparent that you need help! You don’t have to rush into it, but eventually—”

“Whether I talk or not is my choice! And I’m not seeing some stupid grief counselor, okay? Just because I don’t wanna talk to you about certain things, doesn’t mean I’m shutting you out—and I don’t need help! I’m fine. I’m just—damn it, I’m just processing. Can’t you let me do that at least?”

“You have been ‘processing’ for months! It’s time to—”

“Time to what? Move one?”

“That’s not what I was going to say!”

“But you’re thinking it. You’re thinking it just like everyone else is; my mom, my brothers, everyone at school—just leave me alone, all right!”

“Y/N, nobody is—”

“No! Everyone is thinking! Just stop, okay! I don’t need your bullshit sweet nothings, I don’t need some therapist, I don't need to talk about it—I’m fine!”

You and her could not even go five minutes without your conversation, or lack of, forming into an argument. And it was your fault. You were the problem. You couldn’t answer a simple question. Maybe you were hiding behind the fact that you didn’t know how to answer that question, or that you're trying to hide the answer from others. Either way, you always find yourself forming emotional barricades around you, no one in and no one out. 

“Hey, come back,” Olivia’s voice rang. You were pulled from your thoughts, blinking rapidly as if it would wipe away the memories you tried so hard to erase. She leaned in, her irritated expression replaced with a comforting one. “I know how mean that voice in your head can be, I know what it does to you—but I just want you to be okay.”

You met her gaze, your expression equivalent to the look of a lost puppy. “Thank you, Olivia,” you simply said. It was not much, but it still weighed in emotion. 

 The rest of the night was less intense. She asked about Blackmore and how it’s going, which inevitably opened the door to her questioning you about seeing you with Tara the other night, and you found out more about her documentary. The night was long and tiring, but as much as you hate to admit it, you’re glad you agreed to catch up with Olivia. And you would be a bold faced liar if you said you didn’t miss her. The wound is still arguably fresh, but it’s beginning to heal. 

You walked into the apartment, looking forward to changing into a pair of pajamas and binge watching some TV on the couch until you passed out. You have been studying non-stop for exams for the past four weeks, so why not give yourself a treat? Plus, this upcoming school week, you will officially be exactly one week from exams so you will be locked in. What does that mean? You do what you usually do but multiply that by a million, anyone who has known you long enough knows they’re going to hear less and less from you the closer you get to exams. It’s as if you completely shut down from the outside—actually, that’s exactly what happens.

As you walked inside, you yawned and rubbed your tired eyes. But as they begin to focus again, you notice a few blobs sitting in your living room. When your eyes are fully focused, that’s when you see them.

“Are you shitting me,” you expressed in a monotone voice while turning the locks on the door before throwing your keys to the side.

“No—no whining!” Anika immediately said. “You knew they were coming over.”

“I thought you canceled,” you said.

“Uncanceled.”

“What a miracle,” you remarked as you took off your jacket.

“How come whenever I have people over you have a problem with it as if this isn't a shared apartment?” 

“Y/N being an inconsiderate jackass? What a revolation,” Tara pitched in with a smirk. You looked over to deadpan at her and she was already staring back at you.

“Says the woman who still owes me a milkshake,” you wiggled a finger at her. You both smiled at each other before you turned back around to kick off your shoes. “You know what, Nik, it’s fine. I’m just kind of grumpy right now.”

“It’s okay, I’m sorry for not giving you an update,” she said, matching your own apoplectic tone. “You wanna join us? We were gonna play some Uno then watch a movie.”

“Uh, I don’t know—”

“Yeah, probably 'cause you’re gonna get all embarrassed when I wipe the floor with your ass in Uno,” the younger Carpenter knowingly instigated.

“Oh, excuse me? I’ll have you know I’m the reigning champ in my family—don’t start something you can’t finish, princess,” you instigated back.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Alright,” your gaze stayed on Tara for a moment before switching back to Anika, “I’ll join you.”

—

“Tara is totally looking at my cards!” Chad shouted while shoving his cards to his chest like an elderly woman clutching her pearls.

“I am not! You’re the one who keeps leaning on my side!” Tara whined back with just as much passion, if not more.

“Okay—no one looks at anyone's cards!” Anika cut in. “Alright, babe, it’s your turn.”

Mindy wore a devious smirk, slowly picking a card from her deck for dramatic effect. 

“Boom, suck on that!” Everyone leaned in to look at the plus four Mindy slammed down on the pile of cards. Chad instantly groaned, immediately feeling a sense of regret for wasting his last plus four. He sulked while taking four more cards.

Now it was your turn. Tara was right after you, you had the chance to make her life a living hell. All you had to do was place the three plus four from your deck and you would double Tara’s deck in size and be one more card away from Uno.

You made a decision.

“Plus four,” you gloated regarding the single plus four you placed down.

“Damn it!” Tara made sure to glare at you while she picked up her four cards. “Just wait, you’ll see. I’m going to make my comeback.” 

“Whatever you say,” you said in a doubtful tone. As Tara silently cursed to herself while flipping through her deck in frustration, you couldn’t help but stare fondly at the girl. She always had a competitiveness to her that you couldn’t help but respect. It was kind of cute.

After another seven minutes, it came down to just two people; you and Tara. You sat from across each other, debating your next play while one taunted the other.

“You know you’re going down, right?”

Tara laughed at your words. “You have at least ten cards, I just have two more turns and I’ll be following through with wiping the floor with your ass.”

“Oh, yeah?” You said, unintentionally with a come hither voice. You leaned in, your voice lowering but the tone still the same as you spoke to her. “You keep that energy, Carpenter.”

Tara's face suddenly grew warm, her stomach enveloping with butterflies as your voice crashed against her ears. You leaned back against the couch, looking at your own cards as it was Tara’s turn now. 

Shit, you were in her head now. You totally did that on purpose, you had to. And what a dick you were for that, you knew what you were doing—again, you had to be aware of your actions. You must know the stupid feeling you give her, the way her stomach flips, how her legs turn to jello when you call for her. No. Focus. Come on, Tara. Lock in. Wipe the floor.

She cleared her throat, blinking down at her cards while processing them. It took a moment for it to click before she tapped back into her competitiveness and slammed down a card. “Uno! Plus four—suck on that!” Now she had just one card remaining in her hand, just one more turn and she would be victorious.

You smiled at her, your head tilted a bit as your eyes lit at the sign of her celebrating. She calmed herself down, feigning a calm demeanor. “Alright, it's your turn.”

You sighed. Well it was fun while it lasted, you enjoyed playing with Tara. It was entertaining. It’s nice playing with someone who can handle your competitiveness. “Uno, uno out,” you said while putting down your entire deck. You sat in your spot, looking at Tara with a shit-eating smirk with your hands folded together as Tara sat there dumbfounded.

“That’s—what, no, wait,” she furrowed her eyebrows as she rummaged through the cards you just placed. They were all green sevens. All of them. “How’d you—”

“Chin up, honey,” you teased, winking at her

“Oh you’re a real piece of work.” She shot up from her seat as she rushed over to a nearby closet. Your eyes followed her movements as you raised your eyebrows at her sudden actions. 

“You two finally finished?” Mindy asked but was ignored by the other girl. “What are you doing with that—can you like stop ignoring me?” Tara returned with a box of Jenga in her hand and the others trailing behind her. 

“I’m too tired to play Jenga,” Chad said.

“Good thing you’re not.” She now looked to address you, “You, me, Jenga—now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” was all you said as she immediately began setting everything up.

“What’s this about?” Anika asked you.

“Oh, I beat her ass in Uno—graciously so—and she’s being petty about it,” you shrugged.

“I am not being petty, I am unsatisfied. Seriously—how do you win with all green sevens?! Ugh, never mind that. We’re playing this and I’m going to hold out on my promise.”

“Of wiping the floor with my ass?”

“Exactly.”

“Woman of her word,” you say while getting comfortable in your spot.

Mindy, Anika, and Chad watched from the sidelines as you and Tara went at it in Jenga. There were many, many close calls, and few times where the other nearly flipped a table. You both tried to get into the other’s head while the other was sliding out their pieces, but so far no mistakes. But the tower was growing wobbly, it was getting late, and it was only a matter of time before that tower fell over. Now, it was simply a matter of who would make it come to that.

It was Tara’s turn, and there were not many places left for her to take from so she was forced to resort to an incredibly risky spot. You took this as another opportunity to mess with her. “Hey, Tar?”

“Kind of busy here,” she said—the block just halfway out. 

“Will you marry me?” You casually inquired.

Tara’s eyes widened and her eyebrows jumped in surprise. Her hand immediately faltered, dropping her piece as the tower came crashing down. Her mouth opened and closed, her stare averting back and forth from you and the fallen tower; she didn't even know where to begin. 

The others just remained on the sidelines, completely entertained by what was unfolding in front of them.

“Is that… a no?” Your eyes were almost pleading as you continued to taunt the girl, your millionth smirk that night threatened to show itself. 

“I’m going to kill you,” Tara responded as she squeezed her eyes shut, still processing what just happened.

“Not before the honeymoon,” you quipped. Chad, Mindy, and Anika could now be heard laughing, no longer able to hold it in.

“You can’t just—” She shut her mouth out of frustration, settling for narrowing her eyes at you.

“I can’t just what, sweetie? Come on, use your words.” Oh, this was fun. 

Suddenly you got a pillow to the face which only made it funnier, to you at least. “You owe me a rematch, cheater!” 

“Excuse me, I didn’t cheat. You messed up on your own devices,” you said while patting down the pillow and putting it to the side.

“You know what you did,” she said with bitterness laced in her voice. 

“I don’t, so how about you tell me? Tell me how exactly my words affected you; you know, so I can prevent myself from accidentally cheating next time.” You never broke eye contact with Tara; you enjoyed how much she was squirming thanks to you, maybe you enjoyed it a little too much.

“Next time?” 

“You wanna rematch, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do.” This whole interaction had Tara blushing; she needed to leave, like right now. “How about I get back to you in 5-7 business days? Sounds good? Cool. Well, it’s late and Chad’s my ride so we should probably head home, right Chad?” Her words were rushed which made you raise an eyebrow at the sudden change. 

“Hm? Oh sure, I’ll just get my keys and stuff and we can go,” Chad said before going to get his belongings.

“So, I’ll see you around—buddy,” she awkwardly punched your arm in a playful manner.

“Um, yeah, buddy. See you around,” you chuckled at her awkwardness.

“I’m still expecting an answer though!” You called out as she made her way to the front door.

“5-7 business days!” She repeated back to you.

“I’m holding you to that!”

-----------

A/N: well that escalated, gosh, keep it in your pants R! 😦

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax@andsoigotabutterfly @ajortga

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