TW: allusions to child abuse/past child abuse. I think that's it.
Thank you all for reading <3
I'm here, I promise
The Monday after the party
Natalie lifted herself uncomfortably from where she lay, shifting drowsily as her body complained almost immediately. She could hardly recall the day before having spent it sleeping off headaches in Van's equally cramped room and avoiding her trailer at all costs.
It was Monday: back to her trailer, back to school, back to reality. She was already beginning to dread the day ahead of her.
Lottie Matthews was fast becoming one of the only bright parts of Nat's life and having their relationship be snuffed out after a little over a month put a dampener on her already dreary days. So she gathered her things and rushed off in what her disorientated state hoped to be the direction of school.
Her ribs ached with every step she took and the winter breeze caused her to shiver, teeth chattering with both the cold as well as her ever-growing nerves. It was still early when she stumbled through the front gates, though it wasn't empty nor at all quiet as she had hoped. A mass of writhing teens inhabited the area closest to her and she dodged to avoid painful collisions, cradling her bag close to her chest as a pitiful form of protection.
"Hey! Wait up" she caught a glimpse of the brown eyed girl she had been seeking out, who, in response, rushed off to mingle and be lost amongst the gaggle of students waiting outside the main entrance.
After knocking into about a dozen tenth graders and eventually giving up on the chase, Nat made her way to her classes, all of which the Matthews girl was strangely absent from which only exacerbated her fears.
Walking into last period, she greeted Coach Scott with a nod, smiling at the man who was just about the only teacher that didn't seem to have it out for her. Despite Coach's best efforts though, time crawled by slowly, teasing Nat as if the end would never come; by the time it finally arrived, she had lost all patience, racing through the halls of Wiskayok Highschool in hope of catching her friend in the halls.
It was common knowledge in the school that Lottie Matthews was driven to school. Not by her parents. No, she had her own chauffeur for that task. But Nat knew that it meant no matter what she had to be somewhere, can't have left without telling anyone.
When she reached the Locker room that she found who she was looking for. Curled up in a bundle on the floor, dried tears streaked across her cheeks.
She appeared alarmed at the disturbance, trapped and skittish as if expecting an interrogation rather than an apology.
Natalie carefully made her way over to where Lottie was sprawled, edging closer with caution like how a person would approach a wounded animal. Because Lottie Matthews was wounded. She had been exposed, her façade torn from her with uncoordinated brutality. And Natalie Scatorccio was the one who ripped it from her.
So the girl lowered herself gently to meet the ground about a foot from her friend and she reached out her hand.
The act was uncharacteristically affectionate for Nat as she felt the cool skin of Lottie's fingertips brush and link with her own. Yet they sat there, silent and apart, but adjoined in an unspoken bond.
"What are the pills for Lot?" She begins cautiously, her voice softer than usual.
She met Lottie's bloodshot eyes and watched her take a shaky breath.
"It's not that simple Nat" she breathed out, contemplating what to say next.
"They can't know." This time she spoke with urgency. "Nat, do you understand? They can't ever know."
Her voice was rough and broke frequently yet still Lottie was able to carry an intimidating tone.
"You have to swear to me you won't tell them."
"Look, I swear, Lottie, okay?" Nat started.
"But, fuck, it- it's not your fault. I shouldn't have looked at that pill bottle. -but I think I'm glad I did.", she went on, hesitating for a moment as she fixed her stare on the ceiling above them, head resting on cold panelling.
She received no vocalisation in response.
"It doesn't make you any different, you know..... and for what it's worth, I think the others wouldn't give a shit" she grimaced at her own wording "I mean, sure, they'd care. I care. But you're still the same person as before. I guess we all kind of like you a little too much. And, you know we're not all complete assholes.." she trailed off
"I can't pretend to know how you feel or what it's like or whatever but I'll be here." She assured. "You're still alive and breathing. You're still my fucking friend." Nat squeezed Lottie's hand in a comforting gesture.
"You can talk to me. I'll be here, okay?"
"I'll always be here."
"I promise." She uttered the words she had never been fortunate enough to hear herself.
"They're Schizophrenia meds" Lottie said, sighing in a mixture of sadness and relief.
"Ok" Natalie replied, nodding. She smiled at her friend in an attempt to reassure her.
It was going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay.
*****
Soccer was a well eared reward for the small team of Wiskayok girls, and, most importantly, a way to forget.
Natalie loved to forget. On the pitch she wasn't Natalie Scatorccio. She wasn't a 'burnout' or a 'slut'. She was a friend and a teammate. 'Number 7', 'Nat': A valued equal to her peers.
Nat had a purpose in soccer: and while meaningless to some, she clung to it. She was a Yellowjacket; fierce and feared and able to fight when her safety was in question. On the field she could be whomever she desires. No one cares. They will scream for her, not at her and their hands will clap instead of hurt.
And yet she never knew just how much she'd miss it. For the next years, of her life, she'd reminisce in hours of starvation, imagining she was kicking a ball around with her hair tied back, still brown and wispy. And in times when she had no one. Not even someone there to hate her. She would pretend for a few minutes, that she would one day, go to nationals. And they would win.
But we're not quite there yet.
It was the morning of their last 'match' of the semester and trepidation spread like the plague as they stood on the pitch, ready to go to war. Due to their school's lack of an actual varsity team, JV was thrown in the deep end consistently being the only few girls willing (though terrified) enough to play.
Nat wasn't scared. Why should she be. There was far worse to fear.
She positioned herself smartly as the ball was passed from person to person, her mind focussed solely on the game.
Natalie didn't very much like to lose, so of course, she made sure she didn't.
*****
With scraped knees and tired legs, they ran together, smiles beaming across their faces as they swamped their coach with cheers having concluded the semester with a bang. This was their day and they were going to make sure the whole school would know.
