Chapter Text
It’s an uncharacteristically chilly morning on Catra’s first day at Bright Moon University.
It rained all day yesterday, and it’s early, not even 7:30 yet, and there’s fog across the ground as Catra makes her way across campus to her first class of semester. She threw on a scarf with her leather jacket before leaving the apartment, and she pulls it up over her nose as she remembers Scorpia’s cheerful, “have a great first day!” as Catra left for class. She smiles a little at the memory. She’s not a morning person, but Scorpia definitely is, and it was kind of nice to have that sendoff before leaving.
Catra is nervous. This is her junior year, but it feels like her first all over again. She and Scorpia and Entrapta just moved into their new place right off of BMU’s campus after doing their first two years at Etheria Community College, but Catra is the first of their friend group to have a class here since they transferred. Scorpia and Entrapta don’t have their first classes until tomorrow afternoon.
“I’m counting on you to give me a full report on your classroom experience when you get home,” Entrapta told her at dinner last night.
Catra had commented that her classes as an English major and Entrapta’s as a physics and computer science double major probably won’t resemble each other much at all, but Entrapta insisted, so Catra agreed.
Catra knows it’s mostly because Entrapta is nervous about starting at BMU, too, so she’s trying to be patient with her friend. She owes her that. She’s been working hard the last year and a half to be a better friend to Scorpia and Entrapta. She cares about them a lot. Loves them, if she’s honest. So, she’s going to give Entrapta the full report she wants, whatever that means.
Catra finds the tall, imposing brick building that her British literature class is in, and it doesn’t take her long to find the classroom. She sits down at the end of a row about halfway through the room: not the very back, but definitely not the front. That’s where she usually feels best.
The professor has already been calling roll when a late-arriving student in a BMU athletics hoodie bursts through the classroom door, head down and face obscured by the hood, quickly sitting down in an empty chair in the second to front row.
Catra doodles in the margins of her notebook, trying to stay calm. They’re only in the D’s, so Catra’s not paying much attention. Her name won’t come up til the end, if not the very end.
She’s not paying attention, that is, until she hears a familiar name.
“Adora Gray?” the professor calls.
And then the reply, in a familiar voice.
“Here.”
Catra’s head snaps up.
The student who was late has pulled the hood of her sweatshirt off to reveal long, tawny blonde hair in a braid down her back.
Catra’s heart hammers in her chest.
No. No, no, no, no.
Of course. Of course. She has no idea how this happened. Adora hates writing. But, Adora does love to read, and she always did so well on their oral presentations in high school. But whenever it came time to write final papers, it was all Catra could do to talk her down from near panic attacks when Adora struggled with the difference between “affect” and “effect.”
Catra is broken out of her meditation on the past by hearing her own name called.
“Catrina Weaver?”
Catra clears her throat quickly, and she’s proud of herself for managing to speak without a tremor in her voice.
“Here.”
Unfortunately.
Catra can’t help it, can’t help her burning curiosity and flicks her eyes to where Adora sits several rows ahead of her. Adora is looking right at her, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted, as she stares at Catra in disbelief.
Catra stares back, frozen.
Adora turns back around and crosses her arms. She starts jiggling her left leg and the familiarity of that tic makes Catra’s stomach pitch.
30,000 students at this school, and she ends up in the same English lit class as her ex . . . best friend? Ex . . . something.
Something.
The professor has started speaking again, and Catra forces herself to pay attention to the professor reading through the syllabus, forces her brain to push past memories she thought she’d successfully repressed.
“I’m going to go ahead and put you into pairs,” the professor continues. “You’ve been paired randomly because that seems to be the most fair way to do it, so no complaints, please. The person you’re paired with will be your presentation and peer review partner for the rest of the semester, okay?”
The professor starts calling names and people find their partners, sitting together and beginning to talk.
The professor calls out Catra’s name, and then Adora’s name. Together.
This is some kind of sick, cosmic joke.
Adora looks back at Catra from the front of the room and Catra stares back at her, glued to her seat. But Adora gets up and walks toward Catra, slinging her backpack over one shoulder, and Catra really, truly, in every way would like to disappear into the ether, cease to exist, be swallowed by the ground. Anything.
But this cruel joke the universe has seen fit to play on Catra continues, and Adora unceremoniously plops down into the seat next to Catra.
She doesn’t say anything, and neither does Catra.
“Alright, everybody,” the professor says. “I want you to introduce yourself to your partner now. Write down your name, your major, where you’re from, and your favorite book, if you have one. Then we’ll be done for the day. Easy!”
Adora exhales softly next to Catra.
“I guess we don’t have to do most of that.”
“No, I guess we don’t,” Catra says, and she’s shocked her voice is steady. Her insides are churning.
Adora finally turns to her, and Catra can barely make herself look into Adora’s gray-blue eyes.
“So. What’s your major?”
“English.”
Adora nods. “So not finance.”
“No, god, no.”
Adora smiles slightly at that.
“What’s yours?” Catra asks.
“Kinesiology.”
“Sounds intense.”
“I like it.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
Someone end this suffering.
The universe decides to be merciful to Catra for the first time since class started and the professor calls for the students’ attention to announce the readings for next class.
“Oh, and before I forget, please exchange contact info with your partner. Phone numbers, emails, whatever, just make sure you can contact each other.”
Shit.
The professor dismisses them then and everyone packs up quick, trading phones back and forth to exchange numbers and then scurrying out of the classroom.
Catra and Adora both stand up to gather their things, and Adora turns to Catra again, hesitant.
“Do—do you have a phone?”
“Yeah, yeah, I have a phone. Here.”
Catra reaches into her jacket pocket for her phone and then hands it to Adora who types her number in, handing it back to Catra.
“I’ll text you so you have my number, too.”
Adora nods. “Sounds good.”
Catra feels awkward and she has no idea what she’s going to text to Adora of all people, not after more than three years of not being friends, and more than two of radio silence.
So she says the stupidest thing that comes into her head.
“The braid is new.”
Oh, my god, shut up.
Adora plays along, though.
“So are your bangs.”
“Yeah.”
“You always said you’d never get bangs.”
“Things change, I guess.”
Adora looks her up and down, then rests on her eyes. “Not everything, apparently.”
Catra is confused, but she’s still in too much shock from the physical reality of Adora, here , in front of her, to ask any follow up questions. Adora holds Catra’s gaze for a moment, then gives a little jolt, like she felt a chill no one else did.
“I have to go.”
Adora turns to walk away before Catra can reply.
That’s when Catra remembers that the scarf she’s wearing is the one Mara gave her all those years ago.
------
Adora always thought that if she ever saw Catra again, she might cry, or scream, or throw her arms around her, or demand answers, or maybe do all of those things.
But when Catra is actually in front of her after all this time, Adora can’t do much of anything. She feels robotic, like she’s on autopilot, like she’s watching someone else go through the motions for her.
And it’s all of it that makes her feel this way, seeing Catra appear like she’s not supposed to be a ghost from Adora’s past, like it’s completely normal for them to be in the same classroom at 8 am on a Tuesday morning.
They only talk about their majors. Adora sure as hell already knows Catra’s name. She knows where Catra’s from because they’re from the same hometown, Etheria, only half an hour from BMU, even though it feels like another world. She knows Catra’s favorite book, too, unless that’s changed. It’s probably changed.
That thought makes her sad.
English, though. She can’t help but be happy for Catra about that. She doesn’t know what happened, but clearly Catra managed to hop off the conveyor belt to business school or whatever the hell it was Catra’s mom was always so intent on for her. And what is Catra doing here, anyway? It’s a big school, sure, but if Catra’s been going to BMU for the last two years, wouldn’t Adora have run into her at some point?
The walk home from class goes faster than usual because of her jumbled thoughts and Adora is back at her dorm before she knows it. She uses her student ID to swipe into the building and tries to pull herself together before she gets to her and Glimmer’s two-bedroom suite. She doesn’t want to talk about this right now, and especially not to Glimmer, who already knows the whole sad, sorry tale of Adora and Catra in high school.
Adora looks down at her phone. There’s no new messages, but Catra has her number now.
Will she use it, though?
Adora shakes her head at the absurdity of the thought. Of course she will. Catra doesn’t have a choice. They’re partners now and they have to work together. It’s for class, so they’ll have to text each other occasionally.
Adora glances at her phone again.
No new messages.
She sighs and walks into the suite.
------
Adora and Catra meet on their first day at Etheria High.
They have biology and English together, and Adora notices the girl with the bright, mismatched eyes, one blue and one gold, with big, curly, dark brown hair sitting next to Lonnie right away, but they don’t talk until Adora sits down next to her in English class.
Their teacher tells them to get into pairs to discuss their plans for the first assignment: a short narrative about what they did over the summer. They’re supposed to brainstorm together.
Adora turns to the girl next to her who’s sitting slumped back with her arms crossed and smiles.
“Hi! I’m Adora.”
Catra doesn’t smile back, but she uncrosses her arms and sits up a little bit.
“Hi. I’m Catra.”
Catra’s sort of mesmerizing, and Adora knows she’s staring, but she can’t stop.
“What?” Catra snaps.
“Nothing,” Adora says quickly, realizing she’s definitely been staring too long. “So . . . what did you do over the summer?”
“I moved here with my mom. Took tennis lessons at the country club.”
“Oh, cool!” Adora’s never even been near the country club. “I play soccer. Do you like tennis?”
Catra shrugs. “It’s okay. Are you going to play soccer here?”
“I hope so! I really want to be a striker.”
Catra nods, and Adora is wondering if she knows what that means when Catra speaks.
“So, what did you do this summer?”
“I did soccer camp here in town. I wanted to be a lifeguard, too, but you have to be 15 to do that,” Adora says. “Do you like Etheria so far?”
“I haven’t seen much of it yet, honestly,” Catra says.
“I can show you around! I’ve lived here my whole life.”
Adora is rewarded for her persistence by a very tiny smile from Catra.
“That would be cool.”
Adora is thrilled.
“Great! I’ll show you all my favorite places.”
Catra smiles more now, and Adora thinks it’s a really nice smile.
“Okay,” Catra says.
And that’s the start of it.
------
Three weeks later, Catra goes over to Adora’s house for the first time. Three weeks since Catra started thinking that maybe moving here isn’t so bad after all.
Adora’s house is a pretty, light yellow, cottage-style house with a swing on the front porch and potted flowers lining the front steps. It looks lived in and homey.
Catra loves it instantly and desperately.
“It was my Grandma Razz’s house,” Adora explains as they walk up to the front porch. “I grew up here. She’s gone now, so it’s just me and my mom, but the house helps. I still feel like . . . she still fills it up, somehow.”
Adora blushes and looks down.
“Maybe that’s stupid, I don’t know.”
“It’s not stupid,” Catra says quickly.
Nothing about you is stupid, Catra wants to say, but she feels awkward, not sure if Adora will understand what she means.
Adora gives her a big smile. Adora’s smile is always ready and genuine, and she turns it on Catra all the time without hesitation. It makes Catra want to smile back, even though she rarely feels that way otherwise.
“Come on, my mom’s off work today, so you get to meet her.”
Catra doesn’t like meeting people’s parents. They make her nervous. But she follows Adora into her house anyway.
“What does she do?”
“She’s a night shift nurse at the hospital.”
“So she’s gone all night sometimes?”
“Yeah, but our neighbors keep an eye on me, so it’s fine. Mama?” Adora calls out into the house.
“In here, my love!”
Adora walks towards the back of the house and the voice that just spoke, and Catra follows. They end up in the kitchen, a cozy room painted eggshell blue that faces the small backyard. There’s a light catcher in the window that’s casting rainbows across the hardwood floor in the late afternoon light.
Adora’s mom is standing by the kitchen sink peeling an orange. She’s tall, and beautiful, and her long, dark brown hair is in a high ponytail down her back. She looks young. Catra remembers Adora saying that her mom had her when she was still in college.
“Hi, Mama. This is my friend, Catra. Catra, this is my mom, Mara.”
Mara turns a bright smile toward Catra.
“Hello, Catra! It’s wonderful to meet you. Do you want an orange?”
Catra feels shy in a way similar to how she felt when she first met Adora. They’re both so friendly, like they’re not holding back from you.
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Ms. Gray. And no, thank you, I’m good.”
“Oh, no, no, call me Mara! Let me know if you want anything to eat or drink, you’re welcome to anything in here.”
Mara gives Catra that warm smile again and Catra smiles back. She’s starting to feel more comfortable now.
“So, what are you girls doing this afternoon?” Mara asks.
“I’m going to show Catra my room, and then we’ll do some homework,” Adora replies.
“Sounds good, baby. You’re welcome to stay for dinner of course, Catra.”
“I’ll have to ask my mom,” Catra says, tugging on the ends of her fingers.
“Of course. Just let me know!”
Catra nods and then Adora is pulling her arm and leading her towards the stairs to her room. They make their way up the narrow staircase with a low ceiling, stepping over a pile of medical textbooks Catra assumes belong to Mara.
Adora’s bedroom is at the top of the stairs, door wide open, and it looks like something exploded. By Adora’s lack of explanation, Catra assumes that’s normal. But, much like Adora herself, the room is bright and sunny and makes Catra feel . . . safe.
Adora’s bed is hastily made up, a fluffy white comforter over light blue sheets and two pillows stacked one in front of the other against the headboard. There’s a small stuffed horse leaning against the pillows that looks like it’s been around for a long time. In fact, there’s a lot of . . . horse stuff in general.
On a shelf above Adora’s small desk there’s a few horse figurines surrounded by pictures of Adora and Mara throughout Adora’s life, along with pictures of an elderly woman with frizzy white hair and big eyes behind enormous glasses that Catra guesses must be Adora’s Grandma Razz. There’s a unicorn poster on the wall next to the desk. There’s a few piles of clothes on the ground, but there’s a distinct path from Adora’s bed to her closet that looks intentional.
When Catra looks up, she sees that the ceiling is covered in glow in the dark stars.
Catra realizes now that Adora is watching her look around.
“I like it,” Catra says simply. She means it.
“I mean, it’s a lot of horse girl stuff for my taste,” she continues, grinning at Adora, “but I like it.”
Adora grins back at her.
“Hey, I like my horse girl stuff.”
“Oh, I can tell.”
Adora rolls her eyes. “Come on, we better get started on this homework.”
Adora clears a spot on the floor and they sit down with their backpacks, pulling out books and papers and pencil cases.
Catra eventually calls her mom to ask if she can stay for dinner. She doesn’t want to leave yet.
“Hello?” Her mom already sounds distracted.
“Hi, mom.”
“Are you home from school?”
“No, I went over to a classmate’s house to study, remember?”
“Yes, that’s right. Well, what is it?”
“They asked me to stay for dinner. Can I?”
“Be polite and don’t ask for anything. And don’t slouch at the table.”
“I know what to do,” Catra says, just barely allowing an edge to her voice.
“Catra.” It’s a warning.
Catra breathes in deep and exhales before answering.
“I will.”
“Good. Be home no later than 8.”
Her mom hangs up, and Catra breathes a sigh of relief.
So Catra stays, and she sits at the kitchen table with Adora and Mara and watches the way they hug each other for no reason, the way Mara kisses Adora’s forehead when she gets up to get more water, the way Adora tells Mara all the mundane details of her and Catra’s day at school and Mara listens with rapt attention.
Mara turns to Catra to ask her questions about the day, too, about what she did and what she thought about it. Catra can tell Mara is listening to her answers.
Catra watches all of it, drinking it in, storing it away as if she’ll need it later.
It’s the first of many, many nights like this.
------
Adora is eating dinner with Bow and Glimmer at Bow’s and Sea Hawk’s apartment when she gets a text from a number she doesn’t recognize.
(7:36 pm): Unknown Number
hey, it’s me
Adora squints at her phone.
(7:38 pm): Adora
hi, me
(7:39 pm): Unknown Number
oh sorry, this is catra
Adora chokes on her pasta. “Oh, fuck .”
“What? What is it?” Glimmer asks.
Adora hastily puts her phone facedown on the kitchen table.
“Uh, nothing.”
Gimmer gives her that look Adora has become all too accustomed to. The “you’re full of shit and we both know it” look.
“You’re a bad actress, Adora.”
“Whatever.”
“Come on, who is it?”
“It’s no one!”
“It’s clearly someone ,” Bow says through a mouthful of spaghetti.
“Yeah, you look like you just saw a ghost,” Glimmer says.
I feel like I did.
Adora sighs. “It’s Catra, okay?”
Bow and Glimmer are both stunned, eyes wide. Glimmer’s mouth is hanging open.
“Catra , Catra? As in, your best friend in high school, Catra?” Bow asks.
Glimmer’s eyes narrow. “As in Catra who was a huge fucking bi—”
“Yes, Catra from high school,” Adora interrupts, not wanting to let Glimmer get started. “She’s in my English lit class.”
Bow shakes his head quickly, still trying to understand. “Wait, what? She goes here? Since when?"
“I honestly have no idea.”
Glimmer still isn’t satisfied. “Well, why is she texting you?”
Adora sighs. “We got paired up to work together for the rest of the semester.”
“Are you okay?” Bow asks, his voice all care and concern.
Adora nods, probably too quickly.
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a class.”
Bow doesn’t look like he believes her, but he doesn’t press her for more. He can tell when Adora’s not ready to talk about something. He’s good like that.
Glimmer is less attuned to that in particular.
“Well, what are you going to do?” Glimmer asks.
“Text her back, I guess.”
“I don’t like this,” Glimmer says, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.
“It’s fine.”
“But—”
“Glimmer, please. I don’t want to talk about it right now. Eat your pasta.”
Glimmer sighs, then puts her hands up, letting it go for the moment. “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
The next day in class, Adora decides she’s going to sit next to Catra. When she does, Catra looks a little shocked, but she recovers quickly.
“Morning,” Adora says. She feels shy.
“Morning,” Catra replies, sitting up straight.
They’re silent for a minute, but it’s not too awful, thankfully.
Catra pulls a pack of gum in a bright red package out of her backpack, taking a piece and popping it into her mouth. She holds the package out to Adora.
“Want one?”
“Sure, I’ve never tried this kind.”
“It’s cinnamon. Kind of strong, too, if you’re not used to it.”
Adora pops the gum into her mouth anyway. It only takes a few seconds for her tongue to start stinging. She chews more slowly now, trying to get used to it.
“You look like you’re low key suffering,” Catra says.
“No, this is good,” Adora says as her eyes water. “It’s waking me up.”
Catra laughs. “Adora. Spit it out.”
So she does, into the gum wrapper, sticking her tongue out and shaking her head a little bit from the lingering taste. “Ugh, god, thank you.”
Catra is quietly shaking with laughter next to her, and soon Adora joins her, and they’re giggling when class starts. It feels natural in a way that Adora doesn’t understand and doesn’t want to question.
The next class, Catra holds out a pack of spearmint gum to Adora, eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Truce?”
Adora takes a piece of the offered gum and smiles.
“Truce.”
------
Adora does become a striker. And in their sophomore year, it’s for the EHS varsity soccer team.
She’s a star instantly.
Catra goes to every one of her games with Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio, and the five of them comprise a bit of an unusual group of friends. Adora’s on the soccer team, of course, Catra’s a reluctant country club tennis player, Lonnie’s on the wrestling team, Rogelio runs track, and Kyle . . . honestly, Catra isn’t sure what Kyle’s deal is, but Rogelio likes him, so they all hang out.
Adora’s known them all forever, since kindergarten or something, and they kind of just let Catra into the fold when she and Adora started hanging out freshman year. They all get on Catra’s nerves plenty of the time, but that’s also because it’s kind of easy for most people who aren’t Adora to get on Catra’s nerves. Mostly it’s cool, though, having a group like this.
Girls and boys alike start swooning over Adora, and Adora doesn’t notice sometimes. For a while Catra thinks Adora might be trying to be modest, but she eventually figures out that Adora’s a little oblivious, and even when she does notice the attention, it makes her really self-conscious. Catra runs interference for her, blocking some of the more persistent male admirers in particular with sneers and sharp words.
“Bitch!” one of them spits at her.
“And?” she shoots back.
Adora scores the winning goal in the last home game of the season. Everyone rushes the field and Catra tries to hang back a little, overwhelmed by the sudden surging of the crowd, but Lonnie grabs her hand and pulls her into the fray to find Adora.
They make it to the center of the field and Adora, surrounded by her celebrating teammates, spots them.
Adora pushes her way towards them and hugs Lonnie, then turns and throws her arms around Catra, lifting her off of the ground, managing to spin her in a small circle even in the middle of all the cheering people.
Adora sets Catra down but holds her in the hug, still, and she looks at Catra, beaming, blue eyes bright. Catra feels dizzy, and it’s not just from being spun around.
“Did you see?!” Adora asks, elated.
Catra throws her head back and laughs.
“Yes, dummy, of course I saw! You killed it!”
Adora laughs with her and everyone is still celebrating around them and starting to head towards the edge of the field, and Adora puts her arm around Catra’s waist as they walk off in the same direction. Catra sees more than a few people staring at them, but she tries not to care and puts her arm around Adora, too. Everyone knows they’re best friends. It’s fine.
Adora is stressed.
She’s pacing around her room while Catra lounges in the bean bag in the corner, watching Adora walk from her desk to her bed and back again, turning sharply at each interval.
“Adora, you don’t have to get A’s on everything. Mara doesn’t even care.”
“I care!”
“And that’s fine! But you’re torturing yourself over this. An A-minus is really good. I’d kill for any grade starting with an A in algebra.”
“It should’ve been an A-plus! I forgot to “show my work” on one question and the teacher docked me.”
“Adora, what is this about, really?”
Adora finally stops pacing for a second and faces Catra.
“I just think I owe it to my mom to work really hard and do well, okay?”
“Okay. But you already do that. You’re doing really well.”
“It’s not enough.”
“Why not?”
“Because mom gave up everything for me!”
There it is.
Adora sighs and wraps her arms around herself like she always does when she’s anxious.
“She gave up everything to have me. She was still in college. She had to take time off to have me and if it hadn’t been for Grandma Razz she probably never would’ve gone back. And my—the guy didn’t give a shit, he bailed as soon as he could. I just want to make it up to her. Everything she sacrificed for me. She was going to be a doctor.”
“Adora . . . Mara loves you a lot. Like, more than you maybe know. I can—I can see it, all the time.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Adora sits down hard on her bed, arms still wrapped around herself.
“I want to be like her.”
“You are,” Catra says, softly. “You are like her.”
Adora looks down at her feet swinging off the side of her bed.
Catra gets up from her spot in the corner and goes to sit down next to Adora. She leans against Adora’s shoulder and she feels Adora lean back. The pressure feels good.
“But you’re also like you, which is also good, by the way. You’re so fucking hard on yourself.”
Adora turns to look at Catra. Their faces are just inches apart.
“You think I’m good?” Adora asks.
There’s a hopeful timbre to her voice that makes Catra’s heart hurt.
Catra leans her head on Adora’s shoulder.
“Yes, I do.”
Adora rests her head on Catra’s and breathes.
“If you say so, then.”
That weekend is Catra’s 16th birthday. Adora is already 16 and studying constantly for her driver’s test in a week.
“When I get my license we’re driving up to Bright Moon.”
“What’s in Bright Moon?” Catra asks.
“I don’t know, everything! It’s so big and there’s so much there. We’ll explore!”
Her excitement is contagious, and Catra hums with it. Everything feels like an adventure with Adora.
It’s Friday and Mara’s off until Sunday night, so she takes Adora and Catra to the vintage flea market when they get out of school.
“It’s somebody’s birthday tomorrow!” Mara exclaims as she hugs Catra tight after the girls get home, giving her that little shake Mara always does at the end of her hugs.
Catra laughs. “Whose, yours?”
“No, yours, silly! I’m making your cake tonight.”
“My what?”
“Your cake, keep up. Don’t worry, it’s going to be chocolate, of course. It’s my mom’s recipe. We baked together all the time !”
Catra feels something big and bright inside of her, something that threatens to spill out and tell on her. About how much she loves it here, how much she loves this house and the people in it.
They climb into the car, and Adora and Catra sit in the back together because Adora wants to show Catra a song. They split the headphones, one in Catra’s ear and one in Adora’s.
Mara reaches her right arm around the back of the driver’s seat, holding out her hand to Catra who sits behind her. Catra takes Mara’s hand and Mara squeezes, looking at Catra in the rearview mirror, smiling. Catra beams back at her.
The flea market is bustling with people when they arrive, and the three of them wind their way through the crowds and the stalls, taking in handmade jewelry, antique furniture, vintage postcards and photographs. Catra admires a table full of incredibly soft, handmade scarves while Adora looks through a basket of brightly colored scrunchies at the same table. Mara buys them ice cream from one of the food vendors and they walk around until the sun sets.
They pick up burgers and fries on the way home, and Mara begins baking the cake as soon as they get back. Adora and Catra watch a movie in the living room, the warm, sugary, chocolatey smell filling the house. Adora lies down on the couch at one point, draping her legs across Catra’s lap. Catra lets all these sensations surround her, buoy her.
That night, Catra falls asleep next to Adora, listening to Adora’s soft breathing, the stars on the bedroom ceiling glowing gently above them.
Saturday morning goes much the same as their Saturday mornings usually go, except for the sunny “happy birthday!” that Mara greets her with when she and Adora come downstairs. Mara makes coffee for them, and it makes Catra feel grown up when Mara hands her her mug.
Catra’s mom is expecting her home in the afternoon, so they have the cake after lunch. Mara puts sixteen individual candles on top of the cake (“the wish works best that way!”), and she and Adora work together to light them, but they keep accidentally blowing some out in their haste, and all three of them are giggling uncontrollably by the time all the candles are lit.
They don’t sing, and Catra is grateful. But Adora insists that Catra close her eyes and make a wish, so she does.
When Catra opens her eyes, she blows out the candles and Mara and Adora clap.
Mara winks at Catra. “Hold onto that wish, okay?”
Catra smiles. “I will.”
It’s then that Mara places a small present in front of Catra, wrapped in navy wrapping paper covered in sparkly silver swirls, a silver bow on top.
Even though Catra is holding the present in her hands, she still asks.
“For me?”
“Yes, for you!” Mara laughs.
“I wrapped it,” Adora says proudly.
Mara and Adora are both smiling at her, waiting patiently for her to open the box. Catra gingerly tears at the wrapping paper, pulling it away from the white box underneath. She lifts the top of the box, unfolding the tissue paper inside to reveal an incredibly soft, dark gray oversized scarf with fringe at each end.
It’s the one she had her eye on at the flea market. Mara must’ve bought it when she wasn’t looking.
Catra feels bowled over by this, noticed and valued. She’s not sure how to articulate that, though, so instead she gets up and hugs Mara, tightly, holding on longer than she normally would.
“Thank you, Mara.”
Mara smooths a hand over Catra’s hair and kisses her forehead.
“Happy birthday, Catra.”
Catra’s mom arrives at that moment to pick her up and waits for her in the car outside. Adora slips a small box into Catra’s hand when she hugs her goodbye.
“This one’s from me,” Adora whispers.
The tiny box burns a hole in Catra’s bag the entire way home. It’s all she can think about, even as her mom details their plans for the evening, a work party that just happened to fall on the same day as Catra’s birthday. Normally these events annoy Catra and stress her out, but after today, she doesn’t care.
When she gets home, she runs up stairs to her room, roots through her bag for the box, and tears off the wrapping paper as fast as she can. She opens the small white box to reveal a silver ring with a tiny, single star on the middle of the band.
It fits perfectly on her index finger, and she texts a picture of it on her hand to Adora.
(1:46 pm): Adora
do you like it?
(1:47 pm): Catra
I love it
Adora is typing, but then she stops. She starts typing again a few minutes later.
(1:52 pm): Adora
it looks pretty on your hand
Catra goes to sleep that night with the ring still on, thinking about the star on her finger and the stars on the ceiling of Adora’s bedroom.
It’s the best birthday Catra’s ever had.
------
Catra is standing in front of Adora’s dorm and regretting every step that brought her here.
It’s three weeks into the semester and they just got their first essay prompt. Their professor is requiring them to work with their partners to create working theses and outlines. So, Catra is officially working with Adora.
Adora has always had hang ups around doing homework, Catra remembers that. Not that she doesn’t get it done. Adora always gets her homework done. But she needs very few distractions, and especially whenever they wrote papers, she did best if she was in a familiar environment, like her bedroom at home, or the kitchen table in front of the window facing the backyard. It was okay if Catra and Mara were there; their presence helped Adora.
But any other people and potential distractions made everything take longer, which made Adora frustrated, which made Adora feel like she was failing before she’d even begun. Knowing all of this is why Catra agreed to meet Adora at her dorm to work on their assignment.
Catra owes her.
Catra texts Adora that she’s here, and in less than a minute she sees Adora walking towards the door of the building. She’s wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt. Her hair is down and loose around her shoulders. It’s long. Longer than Catra’s ever seen it. It’s pretty.
Don’t .
Adora opens the door and waves Catra in, giving her a small smile.
“Hey, you found it okay?”
“Yeah, no, it wasn’t hard. Your directions were good.”
They’re standing in the building’s common area and Adora’s already tapping one foot. The girl still can’t stay still, that much is clear.
“Um, thanks for agreeing to come work here,” Adora says.
“It’s no problem.”
“My roommate, Glimmer, is here, but she’s just doing homework, too, so it’ll be quiet.”
“Sounds good.”
They walk up a flight of stairs to the second floor of the building, eventually reaching Adora’s dorm. Adora opens the door and holds it open for Catra, letting her walk inside first. Catra bites back a smile at the mildly chivalrous gesture that feels so very Adora to her.
It’s nice inside. A kitchen and living room in the middle of the suite with a bedroom on either side. There’s a lot of pink, honestly, but then Catra recalls the unicorn poster from Adora’s childhood bedroom that’s probably still there and it all makes sense to her.
“So, this is my place,” Adora says unnecessarily, but the formality makes it feel better somehow.
“It’s nice,” Catra says. “Shame there’s no horses, though.”
She says it automatically, teasing, and she’s about to regret being too familiar when she realizes what she’s said, but Adora laughs, big and genuine.
It’s a good sound.
“No, not here. Still plenty at home, though.”
Catra can’t help but smile. “Good.”
They’re just staring at each other now, not speaking, and then Adora shakes her head just barely, like she’s clearing it.
“Um, do you have the prompt with you? I can’t find mine and it hasn’t been posted online yet.”
“Yeah, and I have the presentation prompt, too. Although we probably don’t need it for a couple more weeks.”
Adora sighs. “That one I’m actually not dreading.”
“You’re a good speaker. People like listening to you.”
Catra isn’t sure where this feeling of familiarity is coming from, as if no time has passed, like it hasn’t been years since they’ve spoken.
Adora looks like she doesn’t know quite what to make of Catra’s comment, but she just shrugs and moves on.
“I actually like presentations, most of the time. So, where do you live?”
“Off-campus. Do you remember Scorpia? From our year?”
“Oh, yeah! Wow, I haven’t talked to her in forever.”
“Yeah. We went to ECC together our first two years and we’ve lived together ever since. With our friend Entrapta. We all just transferred here.”
Adora nods, like something’s clicked into place for her. “Oh, cool.”
They sit down at the small kitchen table in Adora’s apartment and Catra pulls out her laptop and the essay prompt, and she’s hyper aware of every movement she’s making, how every part of this feels surreal, how it feels exactly like they’re 16 again and they do this every day while also feeling like she’s entered a strange and unfamiliar country.
A nearby door suddenly bursts open and a short, pink-haired girl appears in the doorway, hands on her hips.
“Catra, this is my roommate, Glim—” but Adora gets cut off.
“So. You’re Catra,” Glimmer says. She’s wearing a very sparkly dress.
Catra nods. “Yep. I’m guessing you’re Glimmer?”
“Yeah.”
Glimmer continues to stare, not offering anything else, and Catra isn’t sure what to say or do, especially because Glimmer’s pink hair, sparkly dress, and her fucking name don’t match the hostility radiating off of her in waves.
Catra doesn’t end up having to say anything else, though, because Glimmer turns to Adora next.
“I’ll be in my room.”
Glimmer turns on her heel and closes her door loudly. Not quite a slam, but there’s force behind it.
Adora winces at the sound.
“Sorry about that. She’s—well, that’s kind of just how she is. She’s . . . protective.”
Catra shakes her head.
“It’s fine. Should we get started?”
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
Adora, on the surface, seems okay, but Catra can guess that she might be spiraling, too. Which might be why Adora’s next words are a bit of an outburst.
“I fucking hate essay prompts. They’re stupid and they never make sense and they never actually say what the professor wants and when you ask them what they want, they can’t even tell you.”
Adora stops here and looks a little embarrassed.
Adora huffs out a short breath. “Sorry, I just get so—”
“I know,” Catra says. “I remember. It’s okay.”
Adora looks at her now, expression unreadable.
Catra continues, wanting to get past these initial awkward moments.
“Why are you taking this class anyway?”
Adora sighs, a defeated sound. “It’s a requirement here. Everyone has to take an English lit class. To make us all ‘well-rounded.’ It would be fine if I could just do the readings and talk about them, but—well, it obviously doesn’t work that way.”
“Right, I forgot about that,” Catra says. So much here is different from the community college that she has a hard time keeping track of it all.
“You said you just transferred here, right?” Adora asks, as if she’s reading Catra’s mind.
“That’s right.”
Adora nods, and she looks like she wants to know more, like maybe why Catra didn’t go to BMU in the first place like Catra’s mom had planned, but she doesn’t ask, and Catra is grateful.
“It’s overwhelming here,” Catra says without being aware she’s even going to say it.
Adora doesn’t miss a beat, though. “What do you mean?”
“Everything’s just so big, and intense, and . . . everyone seems like they know what they’re doing. I don’t know, it’s just a lot.”
Adora eyebrows knit together in confusion. “But you’re so smart.”
She says it so easily, like it’s a known fact. Catra remembers that that’s how Adora always was, always earnest, direct.
“So are you! You understand all that science stuff. I barely made it through biology for non-majors.”
Adora actually flushes at this. Catra does too, remembering a moment when she said the opposite, just because she knew how much it would hurt Adora.
Adora seems like she wants to move on because she quickly shifts the topic.
“What do you think you might want to do after college?”
It’s a basic question, one you ask people you don’t know well, but the mundanity of it helps Catra center herself.
“I’m thinking maybe . . . maybe I might want to go to law school. Maybe.”
“You’d be so good at that!” Adora exclaims, her whole face brightening with her enthusiasm.
Catra can’t stop the smile that takes over her stupid, traitorous face.
“I’ve been talking to one of my professors from ECC, and BMU has a really good law school, and they want to help me apply. So I might do that.”
Catra feels self-conscious. She’s never talked about law school with anyone but Scorpia and Entrapta. But it somehow doesn’t feel too hard to tell Adora about it.
“What about you?” Catra asks. “Do you still want to be a nurse like Mara?”
Adora looks at her quizzically then, like she’s wondering just how much Catra remembers.
“I think I want to go to PT school, actually.”
“You would be really good at that.”
Adora looks proud, and she smiles at Catra, and Catra smiles back.
Adora is about to say something else when her phone rings. Catra catches a glimpse of the screen before Adora picks it up. Someone named Hope.
Probably her girlfriend.
“Sorry,” Adora says, her expression apologetic. “Do you mind if I take this real quick?”
“No, no, uh, go for it.”
Adora gets up from the kitchen table and goes into her room, pushing the door almost closed but still leaving it ajar. Catra tries to focus on the essay prompt in front of her, but she can just barely make out a word or phrase here and there: “Hospital,” “grocery run,” “sometime this weekend, maybe?”
Catra decides to tune it out and start her outline.
Adora gets back just a couple of minutes later, looking distracted, but otherwise okay.
“Sorry about that, I try to always pick up . . . certain calls.”
Catra knows she has no right to ask but she does anyway. “Is everything okay?”
Adora seems to appreciate it, though.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s just uh—my mom’s girlfriend, actually.”
Catra’s jaw drops. “Mara’s gay?! Shit, good for her.”
Adora throws her head back and laughs, sudden and amused, and Catra feels warm. She didn’t know she’d be able to make Adora laugh like that, still.
“Bi, specifically, but yes.”
“That’s honestly so fucking cool.”
Adora’s still grinning. “Yeah, it’s great. Mom really likes Hope. I do, too. She makes mom so happy. They used to know each other, you know.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! They worked at the same hospital when I was a kid, apparently. But they didn’t talk for a long time until they reconnected a couple years ago.”
Adora seems to realize what she’s saying, and she looks awkward, suddenly.
“Anyway, sorry for the interruption. Should we get started on this?”
Catra nods quickly, and they get on with the assignment, and it’s not as bad as either of them had imagined it would be.
------
Adora goes over to Catra’s house one time in all their years in high school.
It’s halfway through junior year and Adora and Catra both are relishing the newfound freedom of Adora having her license. Mara lets them use the car when she’s sleeping during the day on her days off. Catra accidentally leaves school books she needs at her house, and Adora cautiously suggests they go grab them and then come back to Adora’s house, wondering if Catra will agree. She’d asked once during their freshman year why they never went over to Catra’s house, and Catra said her mom doesn’t like “company.”
The times Adora fished for more details, Catra dodged the questions or outright refused to give her answers.
Catra does agree, though, and they drive to her house in a very nice neighborhood that Adora has only ever driven past.
Adora and Catra pull up to an enormous white house with a large front porch framed by wide cylindrical pillars. The driveway winds through a bright green, immaculately manicured lawn that doesn’t look real. Adora is suddenly very aware of the old, worn appearance of the car.
Catra is tense in the passenger seat, and she doesn’t look at Adora.
“I can just run in and get them,” Catra says.
“I’d really like to see your room,” Adora says, hopefully. Hoping Catra will let her in, literally.
She’s expecting Catra to say no.
“Okay,” Catra says to Adora’s surprise. “My mom’s at the office today, so, sure.”
They get out of the car and walk up the front steps to the imposing front door, and Adora is trying to pretend this feels normal to her as Catra fumbles for her house key. Catra gets the door unlocked and they walk into a large foyer with high ceilings, a winding staircase in front of them. Adora can see a dining room with a sparkling chandelier to the left of the staircase, and the living room to their right.
Everything is bright, bright white. It almost hurts Adora’s eyes.
Adora turns her attention to Catra, curious to see what she’s like here, in her home, a place Adora has never seen her move around in.
Catra is sort of tiny anyway. She’s, like, 5’2 or something, and sort of willowy. She’s strong and fast, though, and a lot of people underestimate her until they see her on the tennis court.
But here, in her big, bright, empty house, Catra seems so small that it makes Adora feel watchful, protective in a way she doesn’t fully understand.
Catra starts up the stairs wordlessly and Adora follows. They walk down the upstairs hallway to a room at the end with a door that’s slightly ajar. Catra pushes open the door and Adora gets her first glimpse of Catra’s room.
In stark contrast to the rest of the house, it actually looks like her.
For one thing, there’s books everywhere. Two enormous bookcases line one wall, full to the brim. Her bed is unmade and has a deep teal comforter on top, an enormous pile of pillows covering half the bed, but the floor is clear, unlike Adora’s bedroom usually is. There’s a window seat with an open book resting on the cushions. There’s a bouquet of dried white roses hanging from a tack on the wall above her desk.
Adora thinks there’s no pictures in the room, at least none that she can see, until she notices a picture of her and Catra from last year’s winter carnival, smiling in front of the lit up ferris wheel, arms around each other, tucked into the bottom right corner of Catra’s vanity mirror. Adora smiles to herself but doesn’t mention it.
Instead, she points at a poster on the wall.
“I’m sorry, wait, is that Fall Out Boy?”
“Yes, it’s Fall Out Boy,” Catra replies. “What about it?”
“Nothing, it’s just that a lot of things are making sense to me now.”
“Whatever, Adora. You’ve got your horse girl shit, I’ve got Fall Out Boy. We all have our things.”
Adora scoffs. “Shut up!”
“You shut up!”
Catra turns and runs down the stairs and Adora chases after her, and they’re both giggling the whole way down, but then Catra stops abruptly at the bottom of the stairs and Adora crashes into her, Catra cringing at the impact, but Catra plants her feet and they manage to stay upright.
“M-mom. I thought you were going to the office today,” Catra says, haltingly.
A tall, thin woman with long, straight dark hair down to her waist stands a few feet away from them, posture erect and imposing. One eyebrow is raised in both question and surprise.
“I came back for some files I need. Catra, where are your manners? Don’t be rude. Introduce me to your guest.”
Catra stills next to Adora. The introduction is perfunctory. “Mom, this is Adora. Adora, this is my mom.”
Adora moves around from behind Catra and steps forward to where Catra’s mom stands, extending her hand.
“Hi, Ms. Weaver. It’s really good to meet you.”
Ms. Weaver takes Adora’s hand in hers, her grip smooth and cool to the touch. She gives Adora’s hand a firm shake and lets go, looking Adora up and down.
“And you, Adora. I’ve actually heard about you from my friends in the athletics department at EHS. You’re quite impressive, from what I’m told. An excellent work ethic. Catra could stand to let you rub off on her a bit more.”
Catra just barely shifts on her feet behind Adora, and Adora can feel the frustration in Catra’s stance.
“Catra’s really smart. She helps me with my papers,” Adora blurts out before she can think about it.
Adora feels awkward and defensive at the same time.
Ms. Weaver’s eyebrows rise in a skeptical expression.
“I do hope that’s not interfering with Catra’s own work.”
“It’s not,” Catra interjects, finally speaking. “We just do homework together. Keep each other on track.”
Ms. Weaver smiles at this, but she doesn’t look all that happy to Adora.
“I certainly hope so.”
Adora sort of just stands there, unsure of what to do, and Catra is silently seething right behind her.
Ms. Weaver’s expression changes suddenly, and with it her tone, as if she’s picked up on Adora’s discomfort.
“Well, what are you girls up to today?” Ms. Weaver asks, brighter now.
“We’re going to the library,” Catra answers flatly. “We have a lot of work to get done by Monday.”
Ms. Weaver smiles again, but it’s isolated on her mouth, not reaching any of her other features.
“That sounds like a good idea. I have a lot of work to get done myself, so I’ll let you girls go. Catra, you’ll be home by 6? We have to leave no later than 6:45 to make it to the club on time.”
“I will.”
“Good. Enjoy your day, girls. Adora, lovely to meet you.”
“You, too,” Adora says, but Ms. Weaver is already turning away and shutting her office door.
They walk back to the car in silence. Adora wants to say something encouraging, but she has no idea what that might be. She knows from the little that Catra has told her that her mom is strict about random things and really focused on Catra’s grades. She won’t let Catra get her license yet, but she doesn’t seem to mind that Catra’s always driving around with Adora. She knows that Catra and her mom aren’t close, definitely not like Adora is with her own mom. But Ms. Weaver seems . . .
Cold.
Catra buckles her seatbelt and Adora follows suit.
“We’re . . . not going to the library, are we?” Adora asks.
“No, I just said that because . . . I don’t know, she’ll just take that better.”
“Oh. Okay. What’s happening tonight?”
“A big work party at the club that my mom’s been planning for months. A bunch of important people will be there, apparently. I have to go and make small talk with all of her aggressively boring clients. And wear a dress.”
“Didn’t you just go to one of those?”
“They’re unending.”
Adora starts the car and begins to back out of the driveway. She has so many questions she doesn’t know where to start, and she’s not sure what she can and can’t ask, but Catra finds her voice again all of a sudden.
“Her name’s ‘Shadow.’”
“Wait, what? Your mom’s name is literally ‘Shadow Weaver?’”
“Yep.”
“That is . . . super weird.”
“So is she. Sleeps like a rock, though, thankfully.”
“That’s good.”
“It’s her best quality.”
Catra’s wry tone is meant to get a laugh from Adora and it does, and the tension in the car begins to dissipate, and Adora knows better than to ask Catra any more questions, so she doesn’t.
But she does get up the courage to take Catra’s hand in hers, and to Adora’s delight, Catra doesn’t pull away. They hold hands, Adora driving one-handed, all the way back to her house. They let go without a word when they get out of the car, and they don’t talk about it.
Later, though, after Catra goes home and Adora is alone in her bedroom, she looks at her hand and she could swear that it somehow looks different from having held Catra’s.
------
They’re driving to school one morning and Catra can’t stop yawning. They left early specifically to get coffee on the way there after picking Mara up from work and taking her home. Adora drives Mara to work every night and picks her up before school every morning because Mara likes Adora to have the car at home at night, just in case of emergencies. Catra and Adora lean against the side of the car in the school parking lot a good half hour before they need to be there, sipping their coffees.
They’ve been silent for a while when Adora speaks up.
“Why were you up so late last night?” Adora asks. “I got your last text at 3 am.”
“And you answered. Why were you awake?”
“I asked you first.”
“I asked you second.”
“Catra!”
“Okay!” Catra looks away from Adora, trying to decide something. Then, “I don’t really—I don’t really sleep a lot. Like, I just can’t fall asleep some nights. So I stay up.”
Adora looks at Catra, surprised. “I don’t either.”
Catra raises her eyebrows. “You don’t?”
“No,” Adora says. “I can’t sleep either, some nights. I’ll maybe get a couple hours in the morning, but . . .”
“But usually nothing,” Catra finishes for her.
“Yeah,” Adora says. “Usually nothing. I can nap at home after school and that helps.”
“That’s what I do, too,” Catra says.
Adora feels the flippy feeling come back. “We’re the same,” she says, smiling at Catra.
Catra meets her eyes, smiling back. “Yeah, we are.”
Adora tilts her head to one side. “You know, if we’re both awake . . . You can call me. Or text me, or something. We could keep each other company. I could come get you. I drive around sometimes since I got my license.”
“At night?”
“Yeah. Sometimes it helps. Sometimes it even helps me get sleepy. But either way, it’s . . . relaxing.”
Catra drops her jaw in feigned shock. “You, relaxed?”
“Shut up.”
Catra laughs. “And Mara’s cool with you taking the car out in the middle of the night?”
Adora looks almost mischievous. “Mom doesn’t know.”
“Adora. Are you maybe, kind of, a little bit, breaking a rule?”
“Well, it’s not like she said, ‘Adora, you cannot take the car for a drive when you can’t sleep,’ or something!”
Catra smirks. “It’s still lying by omission.”
Adora rolls her eyes and stomps one foot. It’s childish and charming.
“Ugh, why do I tell you anything.”
Catra holds her hands up. “Okay, okay, relax. I’m actually super impressed.”
Adora beams at this, then quickly tries to hide it, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the passenger side door of the car.
“Yeah, well, I’m pretty impressive.”
“Don’t get cocky on me, we don’t need any more of that.”
“No promises,” comes Adora’s singsong reply.
Catra snorts and she’s about to turn around and tell Adora to follow her into school when Adora grabs her hand. She turns around, and she doesn’t try to get her hand back.
“I’m serious,” Adora says, and from the look on her face, Catra knows she means it. “I’ll come pick you up. You said it yourself, your mom sleeps like a rock. Don’t try and tell me you’ve never snuck out before.”
Catra narrows her eyes. Obviously she has. But that was to, like, walk to the 24-hour gas station a quarter mile away to get chocolate. She’s not going to tell Adora that, though. It’s not nearly as interesting as driving your mom’s car around in the middle of the night without telling her.
Catra puts her hands on her hips.
“Are you really telling me that you’ll come pick me up in your mom’s car, without her knowing, then come get me, who will be sneaking out of my house in the middle of the night because my mom spends the whole night hooked up to her sleep apnea machine like an oxygen-deprived robot and not even god herself could wake her?”
Adora nods, apparently pleased with Catra’s summary. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Well, then, Adora Gray. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a plan.”
Catra winks at her and Adora grins back.
------
It’s the summer before senior year and Catra works what feels like every waking moment between the coffee shop and the bookstore. Adora waits tables at a small restaurant nearby during the week and works as a lifeguard at the community pool on the weekends.
They’re in the alley between the hardware store and the restaurant, their 15-minute breaks matching up for the first time all week, and Adora brings Catra a leftover muffin while Catra brings Adora some kind of ice cream coffee drink that a customer refused to pay for.
Catra is watchful and observant, and Adora sometimes gets an impression of her as always poised to strike at something, some invisible threat that’s right over her shoulder. What, Adora couldn’t say. Catra is also kind of blustery and stormy. And today, Catra is in one of those stormy moods, snippy and edgy, and a customer yelled at her over the drink she brought Adora that Catra didn’t even make, and she’s ready to spit nails. Adora wants to snap her out of it, and she’s determined to get Catra to smile before their breaks are over.
“It was one of those fucking asshole bookclub moms that comes in every week and takes up three tables and doesn’t order anything half the time, and their book choices look shitty, too.”
Adora lets Catra get it out, nodding and chiming in with support.
“They’re assholes,” Adora says, sipping on the offending drink.
“Yes, they are. And she made me go get my boss, and because Trevor is a spineless piece of shit, he made me apologize to her. For a drink I didn’t make! And no one is tipping today and I count on those tips!”
Adora knows Catra’s mom is kind of rich, so she doesn’t always understand why Catra is so thrifty with her money. Her mom could probably just give her what she wants, right?
“Fuck Trevor. Also, are you saving up for something, like, specific?”
“I don’t know,” Catra says, toeing the ground with her sneaker. Her hair is down but held back by a light blue headband. It looks pretty in her dark hair. “Just the future, I guess.”
Adora grins. “You know, that's very responsible of you, Catra. People might think you care.”
“Shut up,” Catra says, but there’s no bite to it, and she’s smiling.
Success.
“Ugh, did I tell you my mom signed me up for SAT prep classes again ?” Catra asks. “She’s hounding me about my math scores.”
“Why does she get so hung up on those? They’re already good. And you’re a really good writer.”
Catra smiles again.
That’s two.
“But they’re not perfect. She wants me to do something like her. Business and finance and money and shit. She says I need to start thinking about college majors that will lead to ‘prosperous ends,’ whatever that means. Nothing fun, that’s for sure.”
“What does she want you to major in?”
“Finance.”
“Oh, ew.”
“Yeah.”
“I . . . can’t see that for you.”
“You and me both, dude.”
Catra kicks a small rock down the alley and it skitters away.
“You still want to be a nurse?” Catra asks.
“I think so. Something in the medical field, at least. I want to help people like mom does.”
“You’ll be really good at that. You make people feel good.”
Sudden heat rushes to Adora’s cheeks.
“Really?”
Catra’s cheeks are glowing pink and she looks away, twirling the ends of her hair around her fingers.
“Yeah, sure.”
The timer Adora set on her phone to time their breaks goes off at that exact moment and they both give a start, quickly saying goodbye and making plans to meet up when they both get off at 5.
Adora is distracted at work, though, and she nearly spills a tray of water glasses on an already disgruntled woman impatiently waiting for her food.
Adora manages to pull herself together and finish her shift, but she can’t stop thinking about what Catra said.
Do I make her feel good?
------
It’s one of the nights they can’t sleep.
Catra walks the one block away from her house where she knows Adora will be parked, waiting for her. Adora is sitting on the hood of the car, and she doesn’t see Catra at first. Catra takes in Adora lounging on the hood, and her hair is down, out of its standard ponytail, and she’s wearing her varsity jacket with a white t-shirt and her ripped jeans. She notices Catra now and gives her that big grin that makes Catra feel bubbly inside, and she’s not exactly what someone might describe as a bubbly person.
Adora notices the goosebumps on Catra’s arms when she gets closer, and Adora must think it’s because Catra’s cold because Adora takes off her jacket and puts it around Catra’s shoulders.
“Wow. My hero,” Catra says, and she means to sound sarcastic, but it comes out a little soft, instead.
Adora pulls Catra towards her by the open jacket.
“I try,” she smiles, hugging Catra to her.
Catra hugs her back, breathing in deep. Then they part and get in the car.
It’s quiet in the car. They’re not playing music right now. They do that sometimes, windows down, riding in companionable silence. It soothes Catra, calms her when little else can.
It also tends to be when they confess things to each other. Which is exciting, in a way.
It’s nearing 2 a.m. when Adora speaks.
“Catra?”
“Yeah?”
Adora pauses, just a beat too long, and Catra is about to prompt her when Adora says it.
“I like girls.”
Catra’s head swims.
“What do you mean?” Catra asks, even though she knows what Adora means. She wants to hear it.
“I like girls the same way you like girls,” Adora says. “Like, romantically.”
Catra isn’t totally surprised, but of course she’s not going to say that. This is important. She turns and smiles at Adora, even though Adora is still looking at the road.
“That’s really great, Adora. I’m—I’m glad you’re telling me.”
“I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but I kept getting nervous.”
Catra looks at her now, concerned. “Why were you nervous? I’m gay, too.”
It’s dark, just too dark to tell for sure, but Catra would almost say Adora is blushing.
“I don’t know,” Adora says. “It just feels like a big deal.”
“No, you’re right,” Catra says quickly. “I didn’t mean that it isn’t. It is a big deal. I just—I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me things.”
Adora shakes her head. “That’s not it.”
“Okay, good.”
There’s a few beats of silence.
“Catra?”
“Yeah?”
“I only like girls.”
Catra’s breath catches. “I only like girls, too.”
Adora throws her a quick look, beaming at her before turning her eyes back to the highway.
“We’re the same.”
Catra’s stomach somersaults. “Yeah, we are.”
Catra “forgets” to give Adora her jacket back. Adora “forgets” that Catra has it.
------
Catra drags herself out of bed and onto campus with greater effort than usual. Entrapta is a terrible influence and they stayed up until nearly 2 am playing video games together.
Catra feels Adora sit down in the seat next to her, and she looks up to see her, and she’s somehow five minutes early with coffee, when usually she appears at exactly 7:59 looking frazzled.
“Good morning,” Adora smiles.
Catra tries to smile but it comes out more like a grimace.
“Is it?”
“You look stressed.”
“Do I?” Catra says sarcastically.
“It’s just that you’re not your chipper, sunshine-y self, like you usually are at 8 am.”
“Ha-ha. Cute.”
“Yes, I am! Thanks for noticing.”
Adora’s grinning at her and Catra can feel warmth rising up her neck and towards her cheeks. She tries to push it down.
“You’re cocky as ever, aren’t you?”
Adora nudges Catra’s shoulder with hers. Even this brief contact makes Catra’s flush worse.
“Seriously, what is it?” Adora asks.
“I stayed up too late last night, like an idiot. And I have this big bio exam coming up next week. It’s gonna kick my ass.”
“I thought you already took bio at ECC?”
“I did, but BMU requires transfers to take one lab science here regardless. So I chose bio because at least I’ve done that before.”
“God, that sucks.”
“Yeah.”
Adora twirls her pen in her hand, then taps it on the table, one, two, three times.
“I can help you.”
Catra turns to face Adora more fully.
“What?”
“I can help you study. I’m good with ‘the science stuff,’ as you like to call it.”
Catra cocks her head to one side, questioningly.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
Catra has to ask, has to know.
“Why?”
Adora looks away from Catra and shrugs, but she bites her lip.
“You help me in here. Seems fair.”
Catra nods.
“Okay. If you’re sure. And if you have time. I don’t want to get in the way of your stuff. Soccer, and everything else.”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
The professor walks in then and the class quiets down fast.
A few minutes in, Catra leans in towards Adora.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
The corners of Adora’s mouth quirk upwards in a smile.
“You’re welcome,” she whispers back.
When class ends and Catra starts packing up her stuff, Adora decides to go ahead and make this happen. Catra usually needed prodding a couple of times to accept help in high school, and Adora doesn’t want to lose this opportunity.
“How about you come over tonight?” Adora says. “We can start on your biology stuff.”
Catra smiles, like she’s glad Adora brought it up. “I can do tonight.”
“Great! I’ll make us dinner, too.”
Catra raises her eyebrows. “You cook? I seem to remember you burning the shit out of chicken nuggets.”
Adora scoffs. “I’ll have you know that I’m very good at making mac and cheese.”
“Well, this I gotta see.”
Adora grins. “Good. Does 7 work for you?”
“That works. Will Sparkles be there?”
“It’s Glimmer.”
Catra smirks. “Of course it is.”
Adora rolls her eyes. “I imagine she will be.”
Catra cocks her head to one side. “I don’t think she likes me much.”
“No, she’s just . . .”
“Protective.”
“Yes. Protective.”
Catra nods, then digs through her bag for something, but Adora suspects it’s mostly so Catra has something to do with her hands.
“That’s not a bad thing,” Catra says, finally, twirling a pen through her fingers.
Adora smiles a little bit at that.
“I’ll make sure she behaves.”
Catra chuckles. “Okay, then. See you tonight.”
Adora tries to tamp down a small thrill fluttering in between her ribs.
“See you tonight.”
“I just don’t understand, Adora. I really don’t.”
Adora is back home from class, standing in the kitchen with Glimmer, making tea for the both of them in the hopes that it’ll soothe Glimmer’s worries and generally give Adora something to do while she tries to explain why Catra is coming over for dinner.
“She’s coming over here to study for her bio exam,” Adora says.
Glimmer crosses her arms over her chest, tapping one foot.
“Why? That’s not even a class you’re in together.”
“Because she’s struggling with it, and she helps me with writing. I don’t know, I just want to help her out. It’s—it’s what we used to do.”
“I don’t know about this.”
“About me helping her study for something I’m good at?”
“About you letting her in.”
Adora pauses, the hand that was stirring honey into one of the mugs of tea going still. She feels Glimmer’s hand on her shoulder. Adora turns away from the kitchen counter to face her, and Glimmer’s eyes are soft with concern.
“Adora, you were heartbroken when I met you. I could tell, even though you didn’t tell me why for a while. I don’t want to see her hurt you like that again.”
Adora looks down at her feet.
“Believe me, I don’t want to get hurt like that again, either.”
“Then why are you doing this?”
“Glimmer, I don’t know how to explain it. I just know that she’s here, and she’s like herself again, like I remember her being before—before everything happened, and I just . . . I want her here. Please. Please just be nice. I’ll be careful, I really will.”
Glimmer sighs, and Adora can tell she’s still not happy about this, still not willing to completely let it go. But Glimmer relents some, anyway.
“Alright. I’ll be nice. I’ll be on my very best behavior. But I’m watching her, okay?”
Adora smiles, relief and gratitude swelling in her chest.
“That works for me.”
Glimmer wraps Adora up in a tight hug, and Adora hugs her back, thankful.
“I love you,” Adora says.
Glimmer gives Adora a quick peck on the cheek.
“I love you, too.”
Catra comes over, Glimmer behaves herself, and Adora doesn’t burn the mac and cheese.
Adora walks Catra out to the front of her dorm building, holding the door open for Catra and stepping outside into the cool night air with her.
“Thank you,” Catra says, her words rushed. “For tonight.”
Adora could swear Catra looks shy. And tiny. Adora feels like she’s towering over Catra’s small frame, even though their height difference isn’t more than a few inches.
“Yeah, of course. I’m, uh—I’m happy you came.”
Catra smiles at that.
“I’m happy I came, too.”
Adora smiles, too. “I’ll see you next week, then?”
“Yeah, next week. I’ll text you when I get home.”
Gentle warmth blooms in Adora’s chest. That’s something friends would do. It’s something they used to do.
“Sounds good.”
------
Adora knows she must look strange, craning her neck around the throngs of people in the hallways reuniting after the summer apart, ecstatic seniors talking excitedly about their final year of high school and all the adventures that wait for them beyond it.
Adora can’t participate in it because she’s looking for Catra.
Catra, who she hasn’t seen or heard from in an entire week without any explanation.
Catra, who hasn’t been returning her texts or calls.
Catra, who didn’t come to the door when Adora actually dared to go to her house to try and find out what was going on. Adora was met by Ms. Weaver, who told Adora definitively that Catra was busy and Adora could talk to her at school.
She finally spots Catra at the water fountain near her locker, talking to Scorpia, a newer friend of theirs who transferred to EHS at the start of their junior year.
“Catra!”
Catra turns to see Adora and nods at her, but she doesn’t stop talking to Scorpia, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest.
Adora walks over to her quickly, confused.
“Catra, where have you been? Hi, Scorpia.”
Scorpia gives a little wave.
“Hi, Adora! Great to see you!”
Adora turns back to Catra.
“Well?”
“I’ve been here,” Catra says, unfazed.
Adora is starting to feel really frustrated.
“Catra, can I talk to you for a minute? Alone? Sorry, Scorpia.”
“Oh, no, no problem at all!” Scorpia says. “I’ll catch you two later.”
“Thanks,” Adora says as she grabs Catra’s hand, tugging her inside the nearest bathroom.
The door shuts behind them and Catra wrenches her hand out of Adora’s grasp. She crosses her arms once again, glaring at Adora, eyes narrowed. There’s one other person in the bathroom, but thankfully, they wash their hands and leave.
“What do you want, Adora?” Catra asks.
“Where the hell have you been? I haven’t heard from you in a week! Why haven’t you been answering me?”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy to take two seconds and text me back?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
Adora feels like she’s crazy, like she’s absolutely losing it and Catra is pretending she doesn’t know why. After everything that happened just one week ago, how can Catra be acting like this?
“I don’t understand,” Adora says, confusion and desperation staining her words.
“That’s not surprising. You’re a little slow on the uptake.”
Adora doesn’t know what to do with this, with Catra saying these words to her.
“What happened?” Adora asks.
Catra shrugs. “I guess I just finally stopped to think about what my life might be like if I focused on myself a little bit more. What I might be able to accomplish if I weren’t so busy helping you all the time.”
Adora freezes. “What are you talking about?”
“Maybe if I weren’t always so busy supporting you , I would actually have a shot at something for myself. Maybe I’m just tired of propping you up, helping you with your homework, being the girl behind the star.”
Adora feels like she can’t pull in enough air, can’t draw a deep enough breath. She feels dizzy.
“Catra, that’s not what this—”
“It’s not my fault you’re too stupid to figure anything out by yourself. Maybe it’s time you learn.”
Adora feels like she’s sinking, like the ground beneath her feet is soft and giving way, ready to pull her under.
“You don’t mean that.”
Catra’s eyes are hard. Stony.
“I do.”
Adora starts to speak again, to say what, she has no idea, but Catra cuts her off.
“You know, we’re both going to college in a year, and we’re going to meet a lot of new people. You’ll have all your fans fawning over you and you won’t want me around anyway. We might as well just cut things off here.”
“No, no—Catra, this makes no sense, what are you—”
“I’m serious, Adora. I’m done. Don’t be selfish. Let it go.”
Shock reverberates through Adora’s entire body to the point that she can’t even try to stop Catra as she leaves the bathroom in a blur.
Senior year sucks.
Or at least, under the surface. On the outside, everything couldn’t be more perfect .
Adora gets voted team captain, again. They win every home game.
She still scans the crowd for Catra, even though she never finds her.
A pretty girl asks Adora to homecoming. She says yes. They dance together and hold hands. Adora even kisses her at the end of the night.
It almost feels normal. Almost good.
Seeing Catra at school is a kind of pain that until now, Adora was unacquainted with. It feels like a nail being slowly hammered into her heart with each heartbeat. Like trying to walk on a sprained ankle, speak with a sore throat. Everything is harder and wears Adora out more quickly.
Catra and Scorpia are always together. It’s not hard to see that Scorpia has moony eyes over Catra, and Adora wonders if that’s something that’s happening, but she’s too hurt and too scared to try and find out.
Adora spends most of her time with Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio, who also have no idea what’s going on with Catra. Not that Adora is surprised; if Catra won’t tell Adora what’s going on, there’s no reason she’d tell anyone else.
Lonnie and Catra actually get into a huge screaming match after school one day, and Adora is pretty sure that it’s only because she physically places herself between them that they don’t try to claw each other’s eyes out.
Adora still tries to talk to Catra for a few months. Catra always rebuffs her, scathing words pressing into the bone-deep bruise of Adora’s hurt. Catra manages to sneak a glance at the B-minus on one of Adora’s papers in English and she smirks at Adora, the twist of her mouth cruel, not playful like it once was. Adora’s cheeks burn with shame and anger, and tears threaten at the corners of her eyes.
Adora nearly doesn’t notice when she stops trying, that she and Catra begin passing each other in the hallways without any acknowledgement at all, negative or otherwise.
It feels like one more level of heartbreak.
Two weeks away from graduation, Adora is on the far east side of campus, near the soccer field, making plans with some of her teammates to take team graduation pictures together. She walks into what she thinks is an empty bathroom on this slightly deserted end of campus and hears retching. Someone’s throwing up in the stall at the end and the door is open, like whoever it is almost didn’t make it to the toilet in time.
Adora peeks around the corner of the stall to make sure the person is okay, and what she finds nearly knocks the wind out of her.
It’s Catra.
She’s on her knees in front of the toilet, knuckles white and gripping the edge of the seat.
“Catra?”
Catra startles like she didn’t hear anyone come into the bathroom, much less Adora. She turns towards Adora just a little bit, her golden eye narrowing.
“Go away, Adora.”
Catra retches again. Instinctively, Adora leans down and grabs Catra’s hair, holding it back while she throws up.
When Catra can breathe again she jabs her elbow towards Adora, knocking Adora’s hands away from her.
“Don’t touch me,” she says, but the usual venom in her tone is missing.
Adora backs up anyway.
“Are you sick?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re throwing up.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
Catra stands up from where she’s been kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet. She avoids Adora’s eyes and walks toward a sink, splashing water on her face and rinsing the bile from her mouth.
“I’m worried about you,” Adora says.
Catra gives a sharp, short laugh. “Don’t be.”
“Catra—”
Catra whips around, some of her curls sticking to her damp face.
“You can go now, Adora! There’s nobody to save here, so fuck off!”
The venom is back.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Adora is shouting now. “Why are you acting like this? What the fuck is going on?”
Catra opens her mouth to speak but Adora doesn’t give her the chance.
“Mom still asks about you! She worries about you! She asks me if you need help and I can’t even tell her because you won’t fucking talk to me!”
Catra’s eyes twitch, just the smallest bit.
Adora throws her hands up in exasperation.
“Who the hell are you? I don’t even recognize you. Who are you?”
Catra squares her shoulders, pulling herself up to her full height.
“I’m just me, Adora. Maybe I was always like this. Maybe all the good things you thought I was weren’t real. Either way, you need to get the hell over it and leave me the fuck alone.”
There are tears in Adora’s eyes and she tries to will them away.
“Catra, just come with me. Just come home with me and we can figure this out, I know we can.”
“Don’t you get it?” Catra bites out the words. “I’m never going to go with you.”
Catra pushes past Adora on her way out of the bathroom, knocking into Adora’s shoulder with her own, hard, and Adora actually stumbles from the impact.
------
Adora feels like shit.
She’s not really one to “dress up” for class, especially not like a lot of the sorority girls do, but she’s maybe taken it too far this time. Her hair is in a messy bun, she’s wearing a very large hoodie and no bra, leggings, and flip flops. She almost walked out of her dorm in slippers before Glimmer shrieked and stopped her.
And it’s all because she woke up this morning to a sneezing fit, a sore throat, and a dull ache in her entire body that does not bode well. But she’s not getting sick, that’s not possible. And it’s not a big deal that she grabbed chicken noodle soup from the dining hall before coming to class. Also, why the dining hall even has chicken noodle soup at this hour is beyond her and she doesn’t care to think about that right now.
Catra takes one look at her when Adora gets to class and sits down next to her.
“You’re sick.”
“I’m not—” Adora is cut off by her own sneeze.
“Sick,” Catra repeats.
“I’m not—”
“You’re literally eating chicken noodle soup at 8 am.”
“Breakfast is a construct.” Adora’s voice is raspy.
Catra raises her eyebrows, amused. “Oh, is it, now?”
“Yes, I can eat whatever I want whenever I want.”
“You make a compelling argument.”
Catra starts rooting through her bag, eventually pulling out a handful of cough drops. She holds them out to Adora who takes them, laughing.
“Why do you always have random stuff in your bag? What else is in there?”
“Bandaids, ibuprofen, allergy pills, my pocketknife. I might actually have some cold medicine in here, too.”
“Any reason you have a pharmacy in your backpack?”
“Preventative care, Adora. I don’t get sick.”
“Well, good for you.”
Catra pulls an orange-flavored packet of vitamin C from a pocket on the outside of her backpack and slides it over to Adora.
“Put this in your water bottle and don’t breathe on me.”
“My hero,” Adora teases, and she’s satisfied to see Catra flush.
------
Adora is graduating in the morning, and Mara is very emotional about it. She keeps getting teary, hugging and kissing Adora, telling her how excited and proud she is that her baby is graduating, on her way to her “big college adventure!” It helps, a lot. It helps Adora feel excited, too. Adora has already accepted her full soccer scholarship to Bright Moon University, and she’s going there in the fall. She’s already talked to the girl who’s going to be her freshman year roommate (Glimmer? Shimmer? She can’t quite remember). So much is happening, though, and she feels overwhelmed.
It doesn’t help that she can’t talk to the person she’d normally talk to about it.
Adora’s phone rings. It’s not a number she recognizes, but she’s been getting a lot of those these days from BMU. Calls from the athletics department, academic advising, financial aid. It’s endless and she’s not encouraged by how overwhelmed she feels before she’s even started classes. She picks up the call.
“Hello?”
There’s muffled sounds on the other end of the line, words she can’t make out. Then, a familiar voice floods Adora’s bedroom.
“Adora?”
Adora feels a surge of comfort, of relief, in spite of the past few months.
Catra .
“Catra, what’s going on? Are you okay? What’s happening?”
Talk to me. Please, talk to me.
There’s a long pause on the other end. Adora clutches her phone, knuckles white, waiting to hear Catra’s voice again. Finally, she does.
Catra’s words are slanted, just a bit slurred. “Adora, I’m sorry. For everything.”
Adora grips her phone even tighter. “Catra—”
But the line is already dead.
Catra doesn’t show up to graduation.
Adora’s texts and calls to the number she still has saved as Catra’s go unanswered.
Adora cries in her bed for two days.