Chapter Text
The sun is shining brightly through the airplane window, blinding you even through your sunglasses after so many hours of darkness as you slept through the whole trip with the blinds shut. You grab your backpack from the overhead compartment and step aside so the woman in your row can get her things. She smiles at you and you barely manage to smile back, your hands are shaking and you grip the straps of your backpack tightly and try to push the anxiety away. The conversation you had with Linda, over a year ago, comes to mind. The first one you had after four years of absolutely no contact.
It had taken you about four tries. You had sat down on your desk; fixed your hair on the camera of your phone; opened up FaceTime; looked for Linda’s name and your finger hovered over the call button. Then you had chickened out, closed the app and gone back to rehearsing what you’d say, how you’d explain everything. On the fifth try, before you could give up again, you pressed ‘call’. After freaking out for the first three rings, you settled down on your chair with a deep breath because that was it. You had let the call ring out until it ended, unanswered. Linda was never, ever away from her phone, as far as you remembered she’d take it with her even to the shower.
The silence that came after the unanswered call was deafening with the finality of it all. It was over, you had reached out and they didn’t answer. They didn’t want to hear from you and you couldn’t blame them. It was a scenario you had imagined. The worst case scenario you had imagined; the one where you wouldn’t get to explain anything. The sofa had creaked when you dropped down on it, defeated. Then the sound of your FaceTime ringtone made you almost roll down onto the floor in your haste to grab your phone from the pocket of your sweatpants. Linda’s name was blinking on the screen and you allowed yourself a shuddering, deep breath before pressing ‘answer’. It took your crappy internet connection only a second to load and then Linda’s face popped on your phone screen.
It had been four years of just Facebook pictures, but then, in the video, she looked almost the same as she did in all your memories. Her golden brown skin looked as smooth and beautiful as you remembered – a gift from her Latin blood. She was sporting a sidecut on the right side of her head, leaving her face completely exposed on that side. Her jaw and cheekbones were more prominent over her still round cheeks, basically the only signs indicating the years that had passed. Her striking chocolate brown eyes were moving quickly, no doubt taking you in just as you had done with her. When they finally stopped moving, you watched as they watered quickly, and yours followed suit. A tear slipped down her face and her eyes narrowed immediately, setting her face in a hard scowl.
“When we first see each other in person again, I’ma punch ya so hard in the face, ya fuckin’ asshole.” Linda’s voice was lower and raspier than you remembered it and a bubbly laugh left your mouth in the middle of a choked sob. Linda’s own choked laughter left her mouth and you stayed like that, staring at each other with tears running down your faces, half-laughing, half-sobbing, until a hand with long fingers pressed a glass of water in Linda’s tiny hand. Soon after Ana’s long face and wild mane of curly hair joined Linda on your screen. She looked exactly like you remembered, the only difference being the darker shade of brown of her hair from the dirty blonde in the pictures placed on the mural on top of your desk. You smiled through your tears and waved a bit. Ana took her time taking you in, a smile slowly building in her lips.
“It’s really good to see you, Angel,” Ana said and a fresh set of tears slipped down your face at the familiar nickname. She rested her chin on Linda’s shoulder and her expression turned serious. You straightened up and wiped your tears away immediately. Ana’s stern face always made you feel like you were in big trouble – which was the truth in that case. She was always the one who could talk you and Linda out of doing stupid stuff with that stern face. “We’ve got a lot to talk about. We’re gonna call you on Skype, okay?” And with that taking-care-of-business tone.
They hung up and you allowed yourself a second to let it sink in. You were going to get a chance to explain yourself. You’d fix it all and make it up to them and get your family back. You rushed to your desk when the Skype call rang and settled yourself for a long night of talking and explaining and apologizing – and, if Linda was still your Linda, probably a lot of groveling.
Now, as you walk into the private room your agent had booked at the JFK to find them there, Linda with big sunglasses on, her tiny hands closed in tight fists, her shoulders shaking slightly with tension and Ana rubbing her back in an attempt to comfort her, you are afraid she might make good on her threat and punch you in the face. She’s as tiny as you remember – barely 5 ft. 3 -, but you have no doubt she’d be able to make some real damage. She’s always been determined and hard-headed – you hope that’s still true, it was what brought you together in junior high and your absolute favorite thing about her.
You push the cart with your bags to the side and walk towards them, fingers wriggling together and bottom lip trapped between your teeth. You steel yourself when Linda takes a step forward, but instead of the punch you were expecting she stands on her tip toes, wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you down into a tight hug. Your body relaxes immediately into the still familiar comfort of her arms. You wrap yours around her waist and hug back just as tightly, lifting her off the floor a bit. When you pull back, smiling brightly at her, she punches you in your right arm – hard.
“That’s for makin’ me follow your life and your career through only the internet for four fuckin’ years,” she hisses and you grimace before trying for an apologetic smile. It doesn’t work because she punches you again in the same arm – harder. “That’s for never answerin’ any of my fuckin’ calls, messages, fire signals or screams into the night.” Your lips twitch as you try to keep your amusement hidden, it’d only get you another punch. That one comes anyway, but it’s more of a push than an actual punch. “That’s for gettin’ me into the Brazilian Volleyball SuperLiga - that shit is addictin’.” You do laugh at that and Linda finally smiles widely at you, her eyes turning into slits and her nose scrunching up adorably. You’ve missed the way her smile feels like home and you want to scoop her into your arms and squeeze the air out of her. You figure maybe it’s best you don’t assume you’ll just go back to how you were all those years ago after just five minutes.
“Anything else?” you ask, wanting to give her the chance to let it all out. Linda considers it for a bit before shaking her head and pulling her sunglasses on top of her head. You do the same so you can finally look each other in the eye. “Thank you for not punching me in my hitting arm.” She gives you a bright grin that makes you laugh before you turn to Ana. “Hey,” you greet her more tentatively.
This past year that you’ve been back in contact, Linda has been very clear about how much she still considers you family, how she wants you back into her life and to get back the relationship you had until five years ago. Ana, on the other hand, had been harder to read through the computer screen and you think it’s only fair; she was Peggy’s roommate and friend before they even met you and Linda, halfway through the first semester of your freshman year in college. It’s natural that she’d take Peggy’s side – in all fairness, you wouldn’t have blamed Linda if she’d done the same. You shake any thoughts of your ex-girlfriend out of your mind, like you’ve been doing since it became official you’d be coming back home. If you allow yourself to think about Peggy you won’t be able to help but ask about her. And you’re deeply afraid of finding out how much she still probably hates you for leaving like you did.
“The screens don’t do justice to how gorgeous you are, Angel,” Ana greets with a soft smile. You grin back and after a second she pulls you into a hug.
You’re about to pull away after a few beats, reminding yourself that Ana was never a big fan of long hugs – which mostly meant you and Linda would make Ana-sandwiches as often as you could get away with it -, but she grips tightly onto your shoulder blades and you let yourself sink into the embrace. When you finally separate, she takes off her sunglasses and smiles openly at you, both with her white teeth and her sparkling, grey-green eyes and you finally feel at ease.
“An’s right, you’re smokin’ hot, babe,” Linda pipes in, looking you up and down in appreciation and you wiggle your eyebrows as you do the same to her. She laughs happily and your heart warms up right away.
“You two are looking really, really good, too,” you say, taking both of them in, “I see you’ve finally grown into the desired family curves, Lin.” Linda makes a show of posing for you, showing off her curves in her skinny black jeans and Spider-Woman crop top - specially her butt and chest that are definitely bigger than they used to be. You laugh, throwing an arm over her shoulder and she sinks into your side as she hugs your waist. “Thanks for coming to get me, guys. We should really move, though, I’m pretty sure those people out there are here for me,” you warn them with a deep sigh.
They turn to look through the glass wall at the reporters and a few fans gathered at the airport door, eyes trained onto your little reunion. They look back at you with raised eyebrows and you roll your eyes.
“My agent and the PR from the team thought it’d be good publicity for me, as a new player, to have my arrival reported,” you explain. Ana just nods at it, but Linda chuckles and shakes her head at you. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Shut up.” She keeps laughing as Ana grabs your cart and she moves to open the door with a little bow.
“After ya, Superstar.” You glare at Linda’s annoying smirk as you walk up to the door and grab her hand. You push her sunglasses down with your free hand and do the same to your own before pulling her out of the room with you, huge smile already plastered on your face.
It surprised you how easily you’d gotten the hang of talking to reporters, but it really comes as second nature to you. As you walk up to the small crowd of people, you figure this is also a good opportunity to start selecting reporters to be in your little group of go-to sport journalist buddies - and if you place your attention on the only young, gorgeous, black woman between a bunch of old men, nobody can really blame you. She asks you a few questions about how it feels to be coming back to play in New York after having started your career in Brazil and about the rumors that you’ve been called to join the national team. You tell her how happy you are to be home, that you can’t wait for your first meeting with everyone from Team GEVA on Monday and how proud you are to be representing the team from your home city. With a small laugh you say it’d be an honor to represent your country and whenever something’s decided it’ll be properly announced – which is only a half-lie, you still have to meet with the USA team’s staff to make it official, but you’ve already accepted it.
One of the men asks who the women with you are – since you came out to the media with a tweet in 2013 when the law that recognized same-sex civil marriages passed in Brazil, stating how happy you were to have your rights acknowledged in the country you’ve been living for three years, they’ve been coupling you up to any women you were seen with. You don’t even look up to find which one of them asked the question, but you very proudly state that they are your best friends and Linda and Ana give you such loving smiles that if you had any doubts about whether Ana wants you here or not, they are gone now.
The few fans that are there ask you for pictures and autographs and you take the time to talk to them and make this first contact while Ana and Linda move to the outside garage. When you’ve taken a picture with all of them you quickly say goodbye and rush to get into the backseat of their car. As soon as you’re in Ana takes off and Linda turns to look at you.
“Okay, that shit was insane. You really are a superstar now, aren’t ya?” Linda asks with an awestruck look in her eyes. You laugh at her and shrug a bit.
“I just play volleyball, nothing super about it,” you dismiss you a roll of your eyes. She nods at you with a grin before turning back around and upping the volume of the radio. The Veronicas’ Cruel is on and you and Linda instantly start singing along and dancing in your seats. It makes you smile widely since you were the one to introduce Linda to them way back in high school. Ana looks at Linda and then at you through the rearview mirror and she just laughs with a small shake of her head before joining in.
Coming back home has been the best decision you’ve ever made, right after your decision to leave five years ago. Getting your best friends to want you back into their lives is the first thing in your to-do list now that you’re back and, as Ana and Linda scream the lyrics at each other before turning to scream them at you, you feel like you couldn’t have started better.
The streets of New York are busy and chaotic and the city is bright and bursting with life in this Friday evening, just like you remember from the nineteen years you lived here. São Paulo was almost as chaotic, but, with your eyes glued to the window all the way from the JFK to Ana and Linda’s place in The Bowery on East Village, you realize; nothing quite compares to New York City.
Walking into their apartment, Ana and Linda rolling your bags in before you, you’re instantly struck with a feeling that makes you freeze half-way into their living room. You had gotten the tour via Skype, so you essentially already know it, but getting a personal, full view now, getting to smell the place, you feel a warm tug in your heart; their place feels and smells like home. It takes you a moment to realize it’s because it smells very much like Linda’s childhood home, a mix between the fabric softener and the house freshener her parents use.
Almost as if pulled by a gravitational force, you’re drawn to a framed picture on one of the shelves between the two ceiling-high windows. It’s of Linda with her mother Gloria, her father Carlos, her sister Giulia and you. The picture tugs painfully at your heartstrings because you haven’t seen any of them in five years and they are your family, too.
In the literal sense, not the connotative one.
Linda has been your best friend since junior high, you two were in each other’s houses all the time and your families were always having dinners and celebrating holidays together – you were all basically a huge, extended family. So after your adoptive parents died in a car accident, leaving you without a family for the second time in your fifteen years of life, Linda and her family stepped in. Since they were already in the system after adopting Giulia, it wasn’t hard for them to foster you and eventually adopt you so they could have the same legal rights as they had with their other daughters. As well as you knew them and as much as you loved them, you didn’t exactly make it easy for any of them. You accepted their adoption suggestion because you knew it would make things a lot easier legally, but you refused to refer to any of them as your family members, in the house or to anyone else, and would correct them if they ever slipped – you didn’t want to ever again have to explain where was your family if something ever happened to any of them. Your only exception was adorable, little Giulia, who would so proudly talk about her two big sisters, the photographer and the volleyball player to anyone who was close enough to hear it.
Looking at that picture now, the way Giulia has each arm wrapped around yours and Linda’s neck as you two hoist her up in the air and how Gloria’s arm wrapped protectively around you mirrors the way Carlos’ arm wraps around Linda; it makes you regret that treatment, even if it was what you needed back then to be able to cope. Now, with five long years between you and the person who needed that, you have no trouble recognizing that they are your family and that you’re terribly scared that you won’t be able to get them back.
“They miss ya lots, y’know,” Linda comments, startling you. She wraps her arms around your waist and presses her face against your back, so her next words are muffled by your shirt, “They are really, really, excited for next weekend. They actually wanted to come and stay here this week, but I told ‘em you’d probably need some time to settle down.” You grab her arms and squeeze them appreciatively.
“Thanks, I really do,” you pause, biting your lip, “I actually still need to figure out how I’m gonna explain myself to ma and pa.” Linda tenses behind you and you’re afraid it was the wrong thing to say in this moment. However, a second later her arms squeeze your waist tightly.
“If ya start by callin’ ‘em ma and pa, I’m pretty sure they’ll crumble down and accept any excuse,” she says and you can practically hear the grin she’s got on her face.
“Hopefully they can accept the truth, too,” you rebut with a small sigh and Linda presses a kiss against your back before moving to stand beside you.
Placing the picture back in the shelf, you finally notice the half a dozen awards lined up with another framed picture in the shelves above and tears instantly prickle at your eyes. First you grab the picture where Linda is smiling brightly as she stands beside a banner that presents her first ever personal photography exhibition in 2013, three years after you left. You place the picture back and a few tears begin to roll down your face whilst you run your fingers over the awards. The older is from 2011, from the New York Photo Festival and she’s got a couple more of those in the following years. The National Photography Award and the 1st place for Lifestyle in the APA Awards, both last year, are the ones that make you heart swell with pride and ache with regret – ever since Linda got into photography when she was around fourteen, she would talk about these awards and the amazing pictures that won them and you would always tell her one day that’d be her, but when her time came you weren’t here to see it.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for your first exhibition or your first awards,” you apologize quietly and you can hear Linda’s sharp intake of breath beside you.
“You missed lots of firsts,” she remarks evenly and you bite your lip to steel yourself, knowing you deserve whatever she’ll throw in your face. “Giulia’s first recital as the lead pianist; her first science fair win; the first and only time Ana and I broke up right after she finished college; us gettin’ back together; the first broom closet we moved into together; Ana’s first successful social worker case; the center for foster kids she helped start; the first plant we got that I proceeded to kill while Ana was travelin’; the first puppy we got that I did not kill because Peggy stepped in and took her in.” At the mention of Peggy’s name your head snaps towards Linda in surprise, her name had not been touched at all in the last year. Nevertheless, Linda locks eyes with you and keeps talking in the same casual tone of voice, “Peggy opening her law office; her first win as an attorney; her first big case with the ACLU and the list goes on,” she pauses, twisting her hand in the air in a wrapping up manner, “Just like we missed a bunch of yours.”
“I know and I am sorry about that,” you mumble as you turn back to look at the family picture. Linda hums softly before she grabs your hand and pulls you further into the apartment.
“You’re here now for the seconds and thirds and all the new firsts,” she gives you a pointed look, “that matters a lot.” You gap at her for a second, surprised by the lack of bite and prolonged bitterness you were expecting.
“Did that really just come out of your mouth?” you ask, teasing grin on your lips. Linda hip-checks you against the wall and you stumble a bit before straightening up again.
“I started doin’ yoga with Ana, I’m a much more Zen person now, ya asshole,” she grumbles and you pat her head condescendingly. Stopping at one of the doors in the hallway, she pushes you towards it. “This is your room. Go take a shower ‘cause ya reek of bad airplane disinfectant.” With a little laugh you pull Linda into a one harmed hug that she quickly reciprocates. “We’ll order some Chinese, still your fave?” You place a kiss against her head before pulling away.
“Yeah, it is.” She nods and turns on her heel. You’re half-way into the room before you change your mind and quickly stick your head back out and call, “Hey, Lin?” She turns back at the end of the hallway with raised eyebrows and you smile softly at her. “I missed you a lot.” She grins widely and shrugs her shoulders immodestly before her expression turns serious.
“I had to put up with a roommate who thought coffee was gross, listened to Iggy Azalea all fuckin’ day long and would rather drink beer than vodka, after you were gone,” Linda lists off with a grimace. “Believe me, I missed you, too, and even though I’m sort of a chill person now, you’ll still have to pay for my suffering.” She glares before walking away.
Chuckling to yourself, you walk to the bathroom and step out of your clothes. Even this guest bedroom somehow feels more like home than the studio apartment you lived in for five years. You figure it has more to do with the two women in the other room than the place itself. When you step under the water stream, your chest feels tingly and fuller like it is slowly being filled up again.
/ /
Tapping your foot nervously against the lift floor, you huff for the tenth time as it takes you up to Ana and Linda’s floor. ‘Yes, Peggy, we remember, we’ll be ready, chill’, was Linda’s answer to the text you sent them last night, reminding them they had promised to go shopping for a new mattress with you. Now it was eight thirty, the time you had agreed on, and they weren’t answering their bloody phones. As you walk up to their door you can already hear the muffled sounds of loud music coming from their apartment. You fish out your spare key, figuring they wouldn’t be able to hear you through the loud music. Honestly, since when do either Ana or Linda blast Taylor Swift before nine in the morning? Or ever?
Stepping into the apartment, you slam the door closed as loud as you can, hoping that if they are doing anything you would never want to walk into, it would warn them to your presence. You’re about to shout a greeting through the apartment when the music is turned down.
“Hey, guys, back already?” A voice calls and soft steps sound from the hallway. Frozen in place, you recognize that voice, but it couldn’t possibly be. “Did you get my-“ The voice stops mid-sentence as Angie’s body turns the hallway corner and she spots you.
She’s in boy shorts and a sports bra, hair pulled into a messy bun and she’s as beautiful as she was five years ago. Her body is different, thanks to professional training, and you have to force some saliva down your dried throat as you take her in. Her legs muscles contract visibly as she shifts her weight nervously between each leg; her abs, V line and collarbones are much more prominent than they already were when she was nineteen; her toned arms flex as she clenches and unclenches her fists and her face is more angular, more grown up. The familiarity of her ocean blue eyes and the way they tug painfully at your heart are what snap you out of your haze over her body. The sole image of a note sitting at your nightstand, the only parting words you got from the woman you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with, comes to the forefront of your mind and you set your face in the blasé expression you’ve been perfecting for years.
“Hello, Angie,” you greet coolly as your stomach twists in knots at the way her eyes light up. “I didn’t know you were back from Brazil.” You might have been following her career from afar like everyone else and maybe you did get a notification from Google about Angie returning to New York after signing with Team GEVA, but you definitely didn’t know when she’d be arriving.
Mostly, because you don’t care, at all.
So you didn’t bother asking your friends. Now you’re thinking maybe you should have. You don’t feel prepared to deal with this.
“Hi,” she greets, hand reaching up to pull her hair out of its bun. It’s lighter and longer than you’ve ever seen it, reaching down to the top of her breasts as it falls down in small waves. “Yeah, I got here last night.” You nod at the information, but refuse to ask any of the hundreds of questions that are running through your mind. Refuse to ask why or how could you as silence settles around the two of you.
Because you’re over it. It’s been five years and you’re over it.
“Hm, Linda and Ana left to get some breakfast, but they should be back soon, if you’d like to wait,” Angie offers with a small grin, hand reaching up to rub the back of her neck in a nervous movement that you recognize. You realize that - even though many years have passed and she must have changed in many ways - she is still mostly the same person you met at college and that your heart still beats at an unhealthy pace at the sight of her smile; it makes you grab tightly at the key still in your hand, angry at the way your body betrays you.
“No, thank you,” you decline, starting to step back. “I have some errands to run. I’m sure I’ll talk to them soon.” Angie takes a step forward and starts to say something, but you quickly turn on your heel and rush towards the door as quickly as you can without actually sprinting.
Outside you lean against the door after closing it behind you and take a couple of deep, calming breaths. After you’re sure your heart won’t try to jump out of your body through your mouth, you pull your phone from your pocket and start typing furiously as you walk towards the lift.
Ana Muller
will you answer your bloody phone? 8:22 AM
you better call me rn and explain who i found at your place!!! 8:41 AM
It was Linda’s idea! 8:43 AM
I’m sorry, Peg. 8:43 AM
CALL ME!!! 8:44 AM
/ /
“Couldn’t you at least give me a fucking heads up?!” you shout, mid-pacing, when Linda sticks her head through their apartment door almost half an hour after Peggy left.
You’ve had time to put some clothes on and process what happened. All you could think about is how much you wish you had time to prepare yourself for it beforehand, to at least have something to tell Peggy. To not spend minutes staring at her, in awe of just how beautiful she looked, taking in every little thing you could see had changed. The darker shade of her hair, the harder edge of her eyes, the way her jaw was prominent to a cutting point and how the dimple on her right cheek popped out more clearly under the sharper cheekbone. It all tugged painfully at your heart and you wish you would’ve been ready for any of it.
“Listen, babe,” Linda starts with a sigh as she walks further into the house, Ana trailing in behind her. “If we had told ya that Peggy would be coming over you would have fuckin’ vanished.” She grabs you by the shoulders and leads you to one of the couches.
“Damn right I would have!” you exclaim, throwing yourself on the couch as Linda and Ana settle on the loveseat. “This isn’t how it should have happened - I was in my underwear for fuck’s sake.” The corners of Ana’s mouth turn up slightly and Linda purses her lips in a clear effort to hold in her laughter and you glare at them. “This isn’t funny, you guys!” you shout, throwing your hands up in despair. Linda is quick to scramble out of Ana’s arms and rush to sit beside you.
“No, no, we know it’s not,” she’s quick to assure you. “The thing is we’re takin’ ya out tonight to celebrate and it’s kind of our group of friends’ go-to bar and Peggy’s gonna be there,” she remarks hesitantly. With a deep groan, you slouch against the couch. “When we realized that, we couldn’t just let you guys see each other for the first time in a fuckin’ bar, alright? We wanted to give ya a chance before that and this was the only one we saw.” Groaning again, you press your face against Linda’s arm and she starts running her fingers through your hair in a comforting gesture. “Did it go terribly?” Linda asks softly and you chuckle through another groan.
“There was lots of staring and awkward greetings, but it lacked the shouting and slapping I thought would happen, to be honest,” you comment before a self-depreciating grin takes over your face. “I guess that’s my ego talking, though, right? It’s been five years, there’s no reason for Peggy to still be hung up on it.” Shifting slightly, you place your head on Linda’s lap and she resumes running her fingers through your hair. “I want her to have moved on, I want her to be happy,” you mumble softly and you’re only sure they heard you because Linda leans down to place a kiss against your head and Ana comes over, lifts your legs and sits down, placing them on her lap.
You mean those words more than you could ever be able to explain. The last thing you want is to reappear and turn anyone’s life miserable. You just want to find your place amidst your friends again. Clearly, this hangout tonight will be your first real quest to earn it and you’re terrified of all the ways it could go remarkably wrong.