plant roses at your feet | gerri fields & fem!reader
The week-long trip to visit your best friend goes awry when it seems that Gerri’s changed since she moved away for school.
Word count: 9028
Tags: angst, fluff, jealousy, depictions of a panic attack, implications of internalized homophobia, unrequited love for a second, cheesy love confession
Carrying your luggage behind you, you stepped off of the train and quickly read over Gerri’s texts. As per her instructions, you should be stepping off from Platform Five before turning left, taking an escalator, then going through the station until you reached Gate Three.
You’d been so excited to see her that you had even searched up pictures of the station, meticulously planning out what it would feel like to finally be meeting up with your best friend after parting from each other at the end of the summer. Though you were still worried about getting lost, you followed the instructions Gerri messaged you and finally made it to the front of the station.
In the middle of typing a text to her letting her know you were waiting at the front parking lot, you heard someone call out to you from the far left and you turned to see Gerri waving at you.
It had only been a few months since you last saw each other, but Gerri looked different. Her hair, that was now a few inches longer than you could last remember, was styled differently, and in a subtle way, the way she did her makeup seemed different too.
But she looked so pretty.
Gerri always looked so pretty.
You embraced each other and she uttered into your shoulder, “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I missed you too,” you replied, feeling a warm comfort settle within you at the feeling of being with your best friend again.
Her hair smelled like mangoes, so you supposed she was still using the same kind of shampoo. That made you happy, in a way.
She pulled away from you and took your backpack from your shoulder. She carried it for you while you wheeled your small travel luggage behind you. “There’s a ton I wanna catch you up on, but David’s friend is waiting in the car for us and I don’t wanna keep him waiting,” she told you and you walked beside her and into the parking lot.
“David? Like, the same guy from summer?”
Gerri looked over at you with a grin that made her look proud of herself. “Yeah,” she answered. “I forgot to tell you, but one of my roommates knows someone who’s rooming with a guy that’s close friends with David, so I saw him at some frat party. He’s visiting the US and he’s been staying with Sam — the guy who drove me here.”
You felt a bit lightheaded trying to catch up with the sudden dump of details of all these people Gerri knew, and as if mind wasn’t already struggling to keep up, she added, “When we get back, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
Trying not to sound too confused and consequently bitter, you asked, “Everyone…?”
The both of you reached the car and Gerri helped you tuck your things away in the trunk while she answered, “There are a few people back at my place right now, but they’re just friends of mine and Zoey.”
You’ve heard of Zoey before. She was Gerri’s roommate. But the last you heard about her, Gerri had been having issues with rooming with her. You supposed they got along now, but you weren’t sure when that started happening.
“You’ll like them,” she reassured, squeezing your upper arm supportively then getting into the passenger’s seat after your luggage was tucked away in the trunk.
You watched as she buckled her seatbelt and turned her head to start a conversation you couldn’t hear with Sam, and for a moment you wondered if it would’ve been better for you to stay somewhere else. But when Gerri looked at you through the side mirror and gestured for you to get into the car, you smiled and felt encouraged.
Though you certainly weren’t in the mood for socialising and all you’d really wanted to do was spend the day alone with Gerri at her place watching movies and getting takeout like you always would, the way she turned around and asked you if you wanted to stop for anything made you think that it wouldn’t be… that bad.
As long as you were with her.
Sam carried your things up and Gerri told you a bit about her friends as you trailed behind. She told you what she thought of them and whether or not she thought you’d like them. There were a few of them you were almost excited to meet — Winona and Caroline — but you still checked the time on your phone before the door to her dorm was unlocked as you tried to estimate what time it would be that everyone would go home.
It was three in the afternoon and they must’ve gotten there a few hours prior to when you arrived at the station, so it couldn’t be more than four or five hours until they left if they wanted to stay for dinner.
You were wrong about that.
Or just disillusioned to begin with.
Gerri’s idea of ‘a few people’ meant enough people that the entire living room was stuffy with a crowd of people, all of them friends or at least friends of mutual friends, where the balcony was polluted with cigarette and joint smoke and the kitchen and dining room was littered with students that were afternoon-drinking.
Everywhere you turned there were conversations and commentary on things like consumerism and classic literature and film that you realised people thought were the pinnacle of what it meant to be an artistic and well-spoken individual interacting with other artistic and well-spoken individuals.
And Gerri… Where was Gerri?
It was nearly nine now and you’d only seen her a few times since you entered through the door together with Sam. You got by without her by taking frequent trips to the washroom, unpacking your things as slowly as you could, and even taking a walk around the neighbourhood during which you stopped for a pack of beer at a convenience store so you had an excuse for if anyone noticed your absence.
No one did, but it got you a few good first impressions when you set it down on the kitchen counter.
Caroline ended up being sort of annoying, and you were glad when Winona came around for it was right after Caroline said something vaguely elitist that you would have struggled to say something useful in response to had it not been for Winona coming around with a can of Smirnoff Ice for you, asking if you were Gerri’s friend.
She was nice and you did enjoy her company for a while until you finished your drink and kept seeing brief glances of Gerri before she quickly disappeared beyond the crowd of people each time.
Standing in the open kitchen and having watched Gerri pass you countless times without seeming to be looking for you, you suddenly felt a bit down and even kind of tired.
It was ten in the evening by the time you told Winona you needed to talk to Gerri, and you bid a goodbye to perhaps the only person you enjoyed talking with that entire day after exchanging numbers with each other.
Feeling pretty tipsy and rather sleepy, you slid your way through the crowd of people and finally made your way to Gerri’s side. She was talking with David and Sam and another taller guy that looked sort of nice because he had a crooked tie and a pair of aviator glasses on, but you didn’t pay much mind to anyone but Gerri once you got the closest you’ve been with her since the afternoon.
“I was looking for you!” she said when she turned to you, a red solo cup in her hand. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset with her, but maybe you would’ve been annoyed at the very least if you were sober. She introduced you to her friends.
“Nice seeing you again, Y/N,” you heard David greet you.
You weren’t sure if you actually responded to him, but you thought you did. Either way, you told Gerri, “I think I’m just gonna head to bed early, Ger. Sorry. I’m just tired from the train. Is there something I can set up in your room or is there a guest room?”
“Shit, I forgot to set your things up,” she hissed then looked into the hallway where her bedroom was. “There’s, uh, a cot or something in the closet but… Well, it’s fine, you can sleep in my bed. Do you need help unpacking?”
“No, I unpacked earlier. Thanks,” you replied, and that time you knew for sure that you said something to her friends for you waved them goodbye and told them you hoped to see them again, which was completely disingenuous.
Earlier when you unpacked, you looked through Gerri’s things, but seeing her bedroom from your position on her bed made things look different. It was like you could see things from her eyes as you looked around at her desk and her books and her posters, smelling the scent of her hair and a bit of her perfume from her pillows, bringing her blanket up to your shoulders and imagining it was her wrapped around your body.
Then you forgot about Gerri and who she seemed to be earlier — someone completely different, a version of her that you felt distant from. Laying in her bed surrounded by nothing but her in the dark silence of her bedroom, the sounds of the party muffled, you truly felt like you had come home to her like you had wanted when you got off the train.
Before you fell asleep, you saw your phone light up with the notification that Winona requested to follow your Instagram account.
That made you feel pretty good.
Gerri must’ve gone to bed late for you didn’t notice that she got into bed with you until the next morning when you woke up and felt her mess of wavy brown hair stretched out against your bare clavicle and tickling your skin. She was facing you, her hand tucked under her cheek and her other arm draped around her clothed midriff.
She was now wearing an old shirt she’d gotten with you when you went to Venice Beach together one summer, and it made you smile when you realised how worn it had gotten over the years of usage.
Watching her tranquil sleeping expression and listening to the soft inhales and exhales of her sleeping form reminded you of all the times you’d slept over at her place. You’d been friends with Gerri since childhood, but you were mostly thinking of the time you spent together before the school year started.
It felt like things changed last summer, though you couldn’t exactly place a finger on how. Maybe it had been the knowledge that you were going to move away from each other in September, but you just saw Gerri differently.
It was warmer when you were with her and she felt dearer to you. Your heart would beat nearly twice as fast sometimes when she got close enough to you. That summer, things were just lighter and gentler, things smelled sweeter and the time spent with Gerri felt… perfect.
Everything that summer was perfect.
While watching her in the peaceful silence of her bedroom, you felt like things really were as they used to be for the first time since both you and Gerri moved away.
And that made you really, really happy.
Gerri stirred and she rolled onto her back, groaning softly and rubbing her face before stretching her arms upwards. She went limp for a few moments as her arms laid back above her head. Then she rubbed her eyes and opened them as she exhaled softly. She turned to you, meeting your eyes as you were on your side looking at her.
You felt like she was really looking at you now, her undivided attention on you. Ever since you met up with her at the station, it felt like she was always thinking about something else — anything else but you.
“I’m sorry about the party last night,” Gerri said quietly the moment she turned onto her side, bringing her knees up and tucking a hand under her pillow. “I really didn’t expect for there to be so many people. When I left to pick you up, there were only a few friends here.”
Looking at her fresh morning face and her messy brown hair and listening to the soft rasp of her quiet voice made you feel so warm; you were completely willing to forget all about last night.
“I get it,” you replied with a supportive smile. “It’s totally fine. I’m just glad we get to have time to ourselves now.”
Gerri smiled then, and you felt yourself flush at the sight of her.
“Besides, I sorta made a friend,” you added. “Winona and I exchanged numbers last night and she requested to follow my Instagram.”
Her face formed a bit of a dubious expression when you said that. “Really?” she asked. “She, like, never talks. She’s Sam’s cousin but we’ve had probably about two conversations since I first met her in October.”
“I wouldn’t have thought her to be the quiet type,” you said. “She was super nice and talkative with me.”
There was a momentary indiscernible look on her face before she redirected her focus and started talking about something else. “Do you wanna go for lunch?” she proposed after checking the time on her phone and seeing that it was eleven in the afternoon. “There’s a really good all-day breakfast place I know.”
The both of you got dressed together in the same room while talking about Gerri’s classes and how you felt about living alone and without a roommate. She talked about her parents visiting next weekend and how much she missed Poppy, the dog they’d just gotten before she had to leave for school.
Gerri was almost convinced that they bought her as her replacement while she was gone. But she didn’t care all that much; she was a good replacement. She ended up liking the chocolate lab quite a bit in spite of her lack of experience with pets.
You wondered if any of her other friends knew about Poppy and how Gerri initially hated when she licked at her face, and how she eventually warmed up to it to the point that she had the puppy sleeping in her bed nearly every night before she moved out.
There were a lot of things you knew about Gerri that you sort of hoped no one else knew about her. Last night, there was so much about her that you felt so distant from, like a large part of her was unknown to you. You could understand the rationality of it for it’d been a few months since you last saw her, and anyone’s first year would bring about some change.
But there were parts of Gerri you just wanted to yourself — parts of her that were genuinely, sincerely her.
A thought that made your chest tighten ran through your mind: What if who Gerri was had changed?
What if there were parts of her you couldn’t get to know the way you used to know her? What if things could never be like how they used to?
The train of thought followed you all throughout the walk to the restaurant, but was discarded and momentarily forgotten when you and Gerri were seated at the all-day breakfast place she recommended.
For a little while as you went through the menu together, discussing what to order and bringing up shared memories that the both of you were reminded of the further your conversation progressed, things suddenly just felt so… natural and perfect.
Gerri laughed at something you said and you lifted your eyes from the menu in front of you to watch how a wide smile spread across her pretty lightly-freckled face still fresh of makeup. Her lively laugh relaxed into a soft fit of giggles and she met your eyes, which for an inexplicable reason made you flush and look back down to your menu.
After months of not seeing their best friend, anyone would’ve felt as eager as you to finally spend time with them. Maybe it was precisely because of the time you’d spent away from her that made things feel so different, but sitting across from Gerri, immersing yourself in the feeling of being the only person who had her attention, you felt that something had changed.
It wasn’t that things were in any way extraordinarily different, though you were sure at least some things had changed since the summer, but instead it was that something had changed within you. And it felt profound, in a way, and you wished to understand where the feeling had come from and what it meant, but before you could, someone approached the table and took Gerri’s focus away from you.
You didn’t pay much attention once Gerri exclaimed excitedly at the sight of the girl standing by your table, and instead you redirected your attention to your phone. You accepted Winona’s request from last night and followed her back, distractedly looking through her posts as you listened in on Gerri’s conversation.
If you weren’t looking right at her while she was speaking, it was almost hard to tell that it was Gerri talking. She sounded different — the rises and falls in her tone, the vocabulary she used, the inside jokes she referenced that you didn't understand, and the people she talked about that you didn’t know.
A part of you tried to tell you how delusional and obsessive you were being, and that maybe you just felt insecure about not being as much a part of Gerri’s life as you used to. But even so, you couldn’t stop the angry bitter pit that formed in your stomach, sticking to your insides like hot tar the longer you listened to their conversation.
At one point or another, you had subtly reminded Gerri that you only had a week with her; there were only three days left in your stay, and the past two days were filled with what you could only describe as being forgotten about.
You understood that Gerri was still a full-time student with things to do and that she wasn’t going to drop everything just because you were visiting — although some selfish part of you did entertain the idea for a few minutes when you were on the train fantasising about your trip.
But the last two days, Gerri had sometimes left for classes while you were sleeping, leaving you alone to wake up to her roommate as your only company, or a completely empty place without so much as letting you know where she was or when she’d be back. She’d stay out for a few hours past the last of her classes to go out with her friends, leaving you back at her place like you were her pet.
There was one occasion that got you particularly upset when Gerri had left in the afternoon only for you to find that she had gone out to meet her friends at a cafe. It had only been for an hour or two but you felt disrespected and abandoned all the same.
The only thing that had brought you any form of comfort since your first night here was the returning feeling of having slept in Gerri’s bed that one night, the stillness and permanence of her in her books and blankets and posters, a side of her that you at the time had felt no one knew.
During your lonely hours away from her spending most of your time in her bedroom, you became curious at one point when you realised you hadn’t yet seen Gerri’s guitar. She used to practise nearly every day and since you’d arrived, you hadn’t seen her pick it up even once.
You knew she brought it for when you hugged her goodbye the day that she left, she had her guitar carefully stored in the backseat in its protective casing.
One evening you started looking for it and found it tucked away somewhere almost completely obscured in her closet behind her jackets and laying against the back panelling.
It was true that there were some parts of Gerri you wanted all to yourself, and if she hadn’t played in a while let alone ever brought her guitar out, no one but you knew that she played nor that it was a hobby of hers. But seeing it stored away, almost hidden from everything…
It felt different.
It felt horrible.
When she came back that night you felt inexplicably bitter and cold to her, but if she noticed how upset you were she didn’t mention it.
An afternoon came when the two of you finally made plans to go out together on your own. In a few hours, you and Gerri were going to a drive-in theatre a city away. A movie from the film series the both of you used to love when you were younger had come out, and you were mostly seeing it for nostalgia’s sake, but also because you’d be able to spend time together.
Gerri was talking about what she did last night when she came back a bit later than she said she would, detailing her outing with David and Sam.
There were two days left before you had to take the train back to your place, so although you were upset with Gerri, you were determined not to let anything ruin the last little while you had with her, even if that meant biting your tongue when she talked about things you would much rather not listen to and avoiding bringing up what you were upset about.
Trying to change the subject quickly while Gerri stopped talking to chew on a pizza bite, you said, “Winona said she might be in town, so we could hang out.”
She made a face as if what you said was funny and spoke with her mouth partially full, “We? Like, you and me?”
“No — her and I,” you replied. “‘In town’ meaning, like, my town. Where I live.”
Gerri chewed while she stared at you and you couldn’t decipher why it was so bizarre for her that you’d made a friend while you were here. Then she swallowed and lifted another pizza bite to her mouth before asking, “What do you even talk about with her? She’s super boring.”
“She’s not,” you defended, now feeling a bit agitated not because Gerri insulted Winona but because she was acting so oddly and you couldn’t understand why. “How would you know she’s boring if you never talk with her?”
“I don’t talk with her because she’s boring.”
Looking up from your phone, you answered, “Well, maybe she’s boring because she just doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Gerri put her hands up in sarcastic surrender. “Sorry,” she scoffed. “Didn’t know you were so close.”
Thankfully, before any sort of argument started, Zoey came out from her room and mentioned a frat party that was happening, and that the guys were friends with David and wanted to throw him a party before he had to leave for Paris.
You watched Gerri’s expression as Zoey gave her more details, and you watched how her mind seemed practically made up the moment she was told that her group of friends were going.
She didn’t even have to be asked to go before she said, “Yeah, okay, I’ll be there.” When you shifted in your spot, she looked over at you. “Oh, Y/N, you can come too. It'll be fun.”
An afterthought.
That’s all you were to her.
What were you to do anyways if you didn’t go?
“I don’t know anyone going, Ger,” you told her nervously as you fiddled with the rings on your fingers.
“I’ll be there with you the whole time. It’s fine,” she tried to reassure you as the two of you and Zoey took the streetcar down to where the party was a few blocks away. “I’ve been to, like, hundreds of these. Y/N, you’ll like it.”
In spite of everything that had been happening the past few days, Gerri telling you that she’d be there with you for the party brought you… a lot of comfort. It made you feel like she knew how important it was to you that she was there with you, which almost sort of reestablished your relationship with her that you sometimes felt like she forgot about.
Maybe it was the feeling of being caught up in what Gerri told you on the way there, but when you were walking up to the frat house together, you didn’t think twice before telling her, “You look really pretty, Gerri.”
And she did look really pretty; you weren’t just saying it because of how you felt.
Gerri turned her head to look at you and you saw her eyes meet yours, her lips parting after a moment of looking your face over with a sincerity that seemed meaningful to you before Zoey opened the front door, inviting a rupture of noise and cheers onto the porch that stopped Gerri from saying whatever she was going to say.
Sam gave you a quick hello then pulled Gerri into the house at the sight of her and you followed behind her a bit uncomfortably, looking around at the crowds of people that was easily at least more than fifteen times the size of the party that you walked into when you first arrived.
For the first hour and a half of the night, Gerri didn’t even look back at you trailing behind her wherever she went unless you were all doing shots together, most of which she did without you anyways.
It seemed to you that she only paid you any attention when she could remember you were there.
When someone tapped you on the shoulder, you turned to see a familiar strawberry blonde standing behind you with a friendly sober smile. “I’ve been looking for you,” Winona said, and you felt comfortable believing her.
“It’s so chaotic here,” she told you, looking around at the bustling party. Then you realised for the first time that Gerri was telling the truth — she sort of was a bit of an introverted person. She never seemed like it until now.
She looked back over to you. “There’s a small terrace on the roof. Wanna go up?”
“I thought I heard a few guys say they wanted to go for a smoke up there but couldn’t get the terrace door unlocked,” you recalled.
Winona gave you a small sly smile then reached into her jeans’ pocket and subtly flashed you a silver key before quickly sliding it back into her pocket. At the sight of your surprised expression, she said, “The key was hanging from a nail at the top of the doorframe.”
You laughed and she took your hand, pulling through the crowd of people and swiping a few things from the buffet counter in the kitchen before the both of you headed to the highest floor where the terrace door was.
Distracted by Winona, you hadn’t seen the way Gerri followed you with her eyes through the crowd, watching with scorn brewing in her chest the moment she saw your interlaced hands peek from between the crowd of people as you followed Sam’s cousin upstairs.
It was nearly two whole hours that you spent with Winona, and you really couldn’t believe it when you checked the time on your phone by chance when you got a notification.
“Is it really almost eleven now?” she asked, surprised.
The pizza and drinks she brought up were long finished, and the two of you didn’t drink even once. You’d sobered up from the shots earlier, and it felt so nice to finally have a sincere conversation with someone.
Winona was nice. She was creative and sensitive and, for whatever reason, she very obviously held you in high regards.
You enjoyed talking with her and you felt a bit terrible for being what you could only describe as pessimistic, but there was something she was missing that you just felt you needed to have. She was nice for conversations and in every platonic sense, and you could see yourself enjoying her company in your future too.
But there was a figure that formed in your mind each time she flushed at your inadvertent compliments and the nervous way she played with the sleeves of her shirt when she said she couldn’t help but stalk your Instagram a little when you first accepted her request.
A figure that stood out starkly from Winona took shape in your mind. But you couldn’t figure out who it was, only that Winona could never fill it.
So when she leaned forward and tried to kiss you when the two of you stood and went to step down from the terrace so she could go home and study for a midterm that she had in the morning, you turned your head the slightest bit, allowing her lips to just miss yours, but enough for her to get the point.
“I’m sorry,” she quickly apologised. “I’m sorry, I must have misread things…”
You quickly reassured her and reached out for her hand which she nearly pulled away from you before she let you take it. “No, it’s fine. You’re fine,” you said.
“I didn’t make this weird, did I?” she asked. “I mean… It’s not uncomfortable now, is it?”
Your heart was pained when you watched her guilty eyes meet yours. She really was so nice. But… you couldn’t do it.
Not with her.
“No, you didn’t. It’s totally, totally fine,” you told her. “You’re a really cool person, Winona, and I’m so glad to have met you while visiting here. But, I…”
Her eyes searched yours before she said, “But you like someone else.”
You weren’t sure if that was true or not. So you just looked at her in a helpless sort of way. “I don’t know,” you answered. “I’m just sorry, I don’t want to make you feel embarrassed or upset.”
Winona shook her head. “I’m not. I’ll get over it. You’re… really cool too,” she admitted. “I can still visit you, right? And we’re still friends?”
Nodding, you answered confidently, “Yeah. Of course.”
You navigated your way to the back door for Winona to be able to leave quietly. She didn’t live closeby, and was only staying with Sam while she visited for his birthday. So you waited with her while her Uber came so she didn’t have to take public transport. You told her that you’d text her when you were back home, and that you’d plan a weekend together where she could stay at your place.
You felt pretty satisfied for having handled that the way you did, and you were happy that you were still friends with Winona.
Feeling pretty fired up from the interaction and perhaps a bit inspired by Winona’s attempt to kiss you and the overt intimacy that came with it, you decided to talk with Gerri.
You weren’t sure what you would say nor what kinds of feelings you’d be trying to convey to her, only that you had something to say and that you didn’t want to keep pretending that you didn’t.
The feeling was short-lived for when you searched for Gerri and even finding the confidence in yourself to ask around for her, you eventually found yourself peeking in one of the bedrooms on the ground floor and seeing her sitting alone with David, his hand in her pretty brown hair with his lips kissing down her perfumed neck.
Perhaps it would’ve been better to slip out quietly, but your legs had other intentions when they forced you to stumble back against the bedroom door and alert the two of them of your presence.
Something alike to an apology came out of you, but it was more a medley of unintelligible half-spoken words than anything.
David, now feeling a bit uncomfortable as the confrontation-avoidant person he was, stood up from the bed and apologised, but to who and for what reason you could not comprehend.
Gerri watched as he left the room and you heard but did not process what he turned around and told her before he left, but it made her repress a laugh.
Eventually Gerri stood too and when she approached you, you realised you were still standing at the bedroom door, stunned. She ran her hands down her jeans and asked, “Are you surprised?”
“… What?” you managed to say.
“Are you surprised?” she repeated. “I didn’t even know he was into me like that. I mean… No clue.”
You searched her eyes for something and though you weren’t entirely sure what you were looking for, you knew that you weren’t able to find it. She could hardly meet your eyes and you felt that perhaps she truly didn’t care about what you thought of her relationship with David, and you suddenly realised you really had grown distant from Gerri this time.
“Ger, do you wanna play?” David called from the living room where an empty space had been cleared for the beer pong table.
“Yeah, just a second!” she answered and without even turning to you, she moved to leave the bedroom.
Without thinking twice about it, you reached out and wrapped your hand around Gerri’s wrist, tugging her back into the open bedroom. “Don’t you care about what I think?” you suddenly asked her.
Gerri’s eyebrows pushed together as if confused by your outburst. “Okay,” she gave in and tore her arm wrist out of your hand. She massaged it with her fingers then let it fall to her side. “Fine. What do you think about it, Y/N? Go on. Tell me.”
You didn’t appreciate the sarcasm and resentment in her voice but you answered anyways, “You don’t even know David. Not really. Do you… even know his favourite song? His favourite band? Do you know what kinds of movies he hates? You’ve never even been to his house!”
You knew you were grasping at straws; your bubbling anger and upset had burst into a nonsensical dump of emotions and irritability.
“What the fuck are you even talking about?” Gerri asked, leaning forward and drilling her eyes into yours. “No one cares about that shit but you. Like, movies and songs?”
Her words pricked at your skin and you felt on edge. Your face felt hot and your anger only began to pique, but suddenly just looking at Gerri put some kind of silence to it all. And you felt like you were about to cry.
Taking your tongue between your teeth to avoid letting your tears form, you gritted out quietly, “You used to care about that stuff too.”
But your words didn’t reach her, like she hadn’t even heard them at all.
Gerri ran her fingers through her hair and scoffed. Her hands dropped to her sides. “Listen, Y/N… I thought you would’ve been happy about David and I, but-but…” Her hands waved around in front of her wildly as she tried to find her words. “But you’re acting like such a jealous bitch!”
It felt like the floor was about to collapse from underneath you.
“For once, you’re not the one getting the guys and that makes you crazy. Well, guess what? This is the real world, so grow up,” she bit.
You looked away, staring at some spot on the floor people kept stepping over, completely unaware and uncaring of the arguing you and Gerri were having. A part of you wished someone would at least give you a judgemental look so you’d feel for a moment that your entire world wasn’t what was happening right in front of you.
“What’s your problem?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“I came here to see you and spend time with you.”
She threw her arms up, hinting towards the party behind her. “Well, hello? Where do you think we are?”
“Gerri, this isn’t hanging out together; it’s hanging out with all these other people,” you said, then looked around at the crowd. They all seemed so far. Or rather, you just felt like a complete outsider. “I don’t even know who these people are. I came to be with you.”
“So, it’s my fault you’re antisocial as fuck and can’t make friends?”
Afraid that if you spoke any louder then your voice would break and shatter any sort of confidence you made it seem like you had, you met her eyes and whispered, “Fuck you.”
“Y/N, you try and paint yourself as some kind of victim here, but you’re being so fucking clingy and posessive! I’m not the spineless indecisive person I was before. I’m not just going to be your pet,” she retorted, her voice raising.
You’d never seen Gerri so upset before.
Maybe she was right.
“It’s just not going to be the same anymore,” she added with finality, and you could swear that you couldn’t hear your heartbeat in your ears for nearly eight whole seconds.
Had your heart stopped?
People couldn’t function without their heartbeats, could they?
You raised your hand to your chest and massaged your fingertips into your shirt, feeling your heart’s beating beyond your ribcage.
Slowly, your hearing returned and you landed back on the ground, your legs trembling slightly and each and every overwhelming noise from the surrounding party bouncing around the inside of your skull, fracturing your very being from the inside out.
“Are you in love with me or something?” Gerri inquired mockingly. “You’re being so fucking obsessive and weird.”
You were silent as her words sunk in, and soon all you could do was internalise her accusations, her bitter words that told you nothing but that you had been the odd one all along. You had come expecting something that you wouldn’t have ever gotten, all because you couldn’t understand the months you’d spent away from Gerri really did change things.
Were you so dim-witted and excessive that it took being yelled at, pushing Gerri until she was at her wit’s end, to finally understand?
To finally understand that things… weren’t going to be the same anymore.
“What?” Gerri urged you for a response.
There must’ve been some kind of expression on your face, a concerning one, for Gerri’s face untensed a little as she looked at you. She said your name.
You watched the way her lips moved around each syllable but you couldn’t hear it. But you wished you could, because you weren’t sure of the next time you’d ever hear her say it again.
Whatever functioning part of your brain forced your body to work on autopilot you hurriedly gathered your thoughts together to internally thank, because before you knew it you were rounding Gerri and pushing through the mess of people that you just couldn’t seem to get away from.
Gerri’s voice called out from behind you and you thought she was calling your name again, over and over, maybe even trailing behind you as she made an attempt to follow you out to wherever you were going.
But you weren’t sure where you were going.
All that you knew was that you needed to leave.
The calling of your name meshed with the sounds of blasting music and shrill laughter and incessant chatter allowed you to forget for just a moment what your name was.
What did it sound like in Gerri’s mouth? What did she look like saying it?
Pushing through the crowd, bodies brushing up against yours and nearly asphyxiating you should it not have been for the way you forcefully pushed them out of the way, you almost forgot you had your own — a body — and your mind moved to think about what it felt like to have Gerri touch yours, what it felt like to feel her shoulder brush against yours all those times you slept in the same bed as her like that first night at her place.
It became especially hard to breathe and you feared what would happen if you collapsed just inches from the door, but your hand reached the doorknob just in time and you stepped out onto the porch.
The cold air burned your lungs when you inhaled but it dried your cheeks, and you regained feeling in your body only for you to realise that everything hurt.
Your chest was tight and your throat was sore, your lungs felt like they were constricting and your limbs felt like they might detach from their sockets at any second. And that fucking thrumming against your ribcage made you want to rip your heart out of your chest.
As if clawing your way through to your beating heart, you scratched at your chest through your shirt and felt with the tips of your fingers the pendant of a necklace Gerri gave you three summers ago that you couldn’t remember why you wore out tonight.
Pulling your shirt down just enough to reach it, you wrapped your fingers around the thin silver chain and tugged it down firmly, forcing the clasp in the back to snap. You eyed the pendant for a second or two, looking at it laying in the centre of your palm.
She bought it for you because it looked scarily similar to the small seashell you brought her when you came back from your trip to Malta a few months prior.
You couldn’t remember if you’d told her, but you brought it back for her because it reminded you so much of her eye colour.
A voice called Gerri’s name from inside and you’re reined back down to earth. You step off of the porch and toss the necklace along with the pendant into a nearby bush, feeling like you abhorred the childish memories you realised you had been clinging onto for years.
“Gerri!” the voice raised.
She turned her head, forced to abandon the endeavour to find out where you had run off to. “Wh… What?” she stuttered, looking over to the beer pong table in the middle of the living room where someone had pulled her towards.
One of her other friends raised his eyebrows at her expectantly.
“Come on, it’s your turn,” David urged, lifting a small white plastic ball to her.
Zoey let you into the dorm albeit feeling irritated because she’d come home early from the party to have some time alone with her boyfriend. You promised her that you’d be quick.
You felt a compelling urge to take one more look at Gerri’s guitar stashed in the back of her closet, so you did.
The stickers on its case, memories of listening to her play for hours, the dedication and love she used to put into learning it, a song she’d learned for you once on your birthday as a surprise played on that very guitar, all shrouded and hidden away.
You closed the closet and left for the station.
For a moment you considered texting Gerri that you were leaving then recalled that she’d never given you the kindness to know where she was or when she was returning nor if or when she was leaving at all.
The bus took you to the station and you tucked your phone in your pocket. It took a few minutes in line to buy a new ticket and then in half an hour you’d be well on your way back home.
There was nothing for you here, and you should’ve realised it long before tonight.
“Y/N!” a voice suddenly called from behind and you turned instinctively to see Gerri running up to you, looking dishevelled and out of breath.
“How did you know I’d be here?” you intoned after she stopped in front of you and caught her breath.
Gerri hesitated a moment before saying hastily, “Uh, Winona. I asked Sam to call her. I-I thought you might be with her but she told me that you said something tonight about missing home.”
“You swim here?” you asked, looking at the state of her hair.
As if just then gaining self-awareness, she ran her fingers through her hair and brushed it back behind her ears. “No,” she breathed out with a little laugh. “It started raining and the streetcar would only take me until a few blocks down, and I didn’t want to wait for the next one because I thought it’d be too late.”
She was rambling.
It used to be endearing, but now it sounded sorta stupid.
Everything seemed pretty stupid right now — even you.
Then she waited for you to say something in response, but you had nothing to say.
She raised her hand to show you the necklace you had thrown away earlier dangling from her fingers, the silver seashell pendant hanging from the end.
“You dropped this,” she said, still panting slightly. The words sounded optimistic as she wasn’t entirely sure if you purposefully discarded it or accidentally lost it.
“Keep it,” you told her.
Gerri’s arm retracted and she laid the necklace in her other palm. Her actions were slow and it seemed that she was trying to make time for her to say something before she put the necklace away, but although her lips parted and her eyes flickered up a few times to look at you, she said nothing. Carefully, she slid the necklace into her jacket pocket.
“I thought you had your departure ticket booked for tomorrow night,” she thought aloud, evidently stalling as she tried to come up with something useful to say. She looked up from her pocket to you and ran her hands down her coat nervously.
“Bought another one so I could leave early.”
Having it spoken out loud, putting it out there verbally that you were leaving early, planted a feeling of alarm in Gerri’s chest. She inhaled sharply and stepped towards you. She opened her mouth to say something, but the station’s speakers announced that your train was to leave within the next ten minutes.
Adjusting the strap of your backpack up your shoulder, you said, “I have to go.”
“O… Okay,” Gerri replied, stepping back so you could turn and wheel your luggage behind you. “Safe trip. Have one, I mean.”
The escalator down to Platform Five was just ahead, becoming closer with each of your steps, and you traced your path from the last time you were at the station. Recalling it pained you slightly as you thought back to how hopeful and eager you had been when you stepped off the train last week.
You expected so much — too much.
So much had changed since then, and it was only a week ago.
How hadn’t you realised how grave a few months’ difference could make until just an hour ago?
You felt so stupid. Everything felt so… stupid.
Your face was hot and you were boiling in your jacket. Your bag was too heavy and your luggage was hurting your wrist. Then tears were forming in your eyes and you raised your other hand to wipe at your eyes.
The rapid clicking of padding shoes echoed behind you and before you could look back, your wrist was taken and pulled back, forcing you to turn and drop your luggage. A hand came to the back of your head and in spite of how quick it all was, her hands were soft and her caresses were careful.
An arm rounded your waist and your body was pulled against Gerri’s.
Her lips were suddenly pressed against yours and you smelled a whiff of her perfume, now having faded away throughout the night. But you could smell it clearly now that you were pressed up against her, and she wouldn’t let any space come between the two of you.
Like last summer and all the summers before, all the years spent knowing Gerri as your closest friend and your greatest love, you were swathed in her as if her scent and the feeling of her body, the feeling of her lips, were a warm blanket.
When your lips parted from hers, green eyes flickered down your face and Gerri whispered, “Why are you crying?”
You looked away from her and quickly swiped at your eyes.
Keeping her other arm around your waist, she raised her hand to your face and swatted your hands away so she could wipe your tears for you. She kissed your damp cheeks and seemed to not be able to get enough of feeling your skin against her lips, so she kept kissing you.
You turned your head and Gerri stopped kissing you to tilt her head and keep her eyes on yours. It didn’t seem like you wanted to talk. It didn’t seem like you knew what you wanted to say much less how you felt.
So she started talking instead.
She started with: “I’m sorry.”
It didn’t look like you believed her, so she cupped your cheek and made you look at her.
“Y/N, I’m sorry,” she repeated.
You were looking into her eyes now and she had your attention, but you were silent. You were waiting for her to say something more, and she had a lot to say. She didn’t know how to start it all, so she just dove into it.
“I, um… I used to see you every day, and it became hard to be here without you. I had to make — force — a different version of myself to blend in with these assholes. It was easier than missing you. It was easier than…” She trailed off and you wondered if she’d give up and just let you leave.
In spite of how confidently she spoke, her fingers tightened around your waist and you felt how nervous she was. Her hand moved down your wrist and her fingers danced anxiously against your palm.
But she continued.
“It was easier than admitting to myself that I was in love with my best friend. That I am in love with my best friend,” she finally said, exhaling deeply, her breath trembling. She looked away from you and over at the floor behind you.
You followed her eyes to survey the sincerity of what she was saying. It seemed true. It all seemed true. It felt true.
Then she took a breath and met your eyes again.
“I thought that maybe I just needed to grow up — to realise that I couldn’t be that same old small-town girl who’s never gotten shit-faced drunk or who’s never had sex with a guy,” she tried to explain.
She was stuttering a little.
“I mean, god, Y/N, the people here are fucking crazy. But I don’t enjoy it. Not even a little. I hate being around people I don’t know — people I don’t like. I don’t want to have sex with guys.” Then she scoffed and in a quick drop of her hand that seemed the slightest bit subconscious, she took your hand. “I don’t even like guys. I mean, I don’t think I do. Or at least the ones here. I don’t know.”
Gerri’s breathing became quick and you could see that she was trying not to look away from you. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Please say something,” she pleaded.
Your lips parted and you were going to say something, you were, but Gerri suddenly blurted out, “I want to be your girlfriend. And I wanna kiss you again.” She leaned down and kissed your chin.
“I want to be able to kiss you there,” she whispered.
She kissed your cheeks and your temples.
“I want to kiss you here.”
Your knuckles were lifted up to her lips and she kissed each of your five fingers, looking into your eyes. Then she lowered your hand and leaned forward to kiss your lips again. “And here,” she breathed against you. “I want to kiss you here. Again. Whenever I want to. Whenever you want to.”
An announcement came onto the speakers.
Five minutes left until the train was to leave.
The announcement reined you back down to earth and you looked around at the people passing, rushing to their trains, children in-hand, perhaps meeting their families elsewhere, going to meetings.
Everyone else — where were they off to?
“Am I too late…?” Gerri whispered.
You looked back over to her.
Everyone else…
Did it matter? Nothing else mattered when you were with Gerri. Nothing else ever mattered when you were with her.
You shook your head and uttered a soft, “I love you too, Gerri.”
“Y/N…” she said quietly. “Things won’t be the same. If we break up, if we fight. Even if we’re together until we’re old, things will change. And between us, it’ll be different.”
“No, it’ll be just the same,” you finally replied. “It’ll always just be you and me. That isn’t any different from how it’s always been, right?”
Gerri let out a noise that sounded like a laugh or some kind of relieved exhale and she let go of your hand and wrapped her arms around your shoulders. She started apologising again and again for how she’d been treating you, for how stupid she was acting.
In half-intelligible teary words, she said she wished it could just be you and her again like it was last summer and all the other summers before. She hated how much she’d changed while you were gone.
Your bag slipped from your arm and you hugged her back, letting her cry into your shoulder in the middle of the train station. “I miss it all so much too, Gerri,” you confessed. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Then you started crying, and Jesus, did that make you feel like an idiot.
“I really hate Winona,” Gerri confessed and hugged you tighter, which made you laugh like an idiot too.
Some things just don’t change.
And that felt good.
