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“Yo, Moreau!”
Marie’s eyes widened. Fuck, she was so late. She took one last look in the mirror – she’d done a pretty shitty job of covering the purple shadows under her eyes, but she didn’t have much time to fix it.
She poked her head out her bedroom window. “Keep your pants on, Jordan, I’m coming!”
They flashed her a middle finger, grinning.
She picked up her backpack and took the stairs two at a time in her hurry, skidding to a halt to kiss her dad’s cheek in greeting and grabbing an apple. Breakfast of champions.
“Tell Jordan we say hello, and that we expect them for dinner tonight. I made that pie they like for dessert,” her mother smiled at her from the other side of the kitchen island. Marie rolled her eyes. If her mother knew how often Jordan referred to her as a MILF, she wouldn’t be so inclined to invite them over. Jordan had flashed their dimple and innocent doe eyes at her parents and immediately won them over, relieved that Marie was making more friends and ecstatic that she was settling into the new town and Godolkin High.
“Took you long enough,” they teased her when she flung herself into the passenger seat of their Jeep.
“Shut up. Also, my mom says hi and you’re coming for dinner after your game later.”
She took a disgustingly huge bite of her apple, juice dripping down her chin. Jordan stared at her, watching the sticky liquid move down her neck and disappear into her shirt.
“I’d fucking eat your mom for dinner,” they sighed dreamily. Marie smacked them upside their head in response with her free hand. This is exactly what she was talking about – Jordan clearly had something for the older woman.
“Watch the hair, Moreau, this shit takes time,” they whined, smoothing their bob in the rearview mirror.
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks,” she said drily. She couldn’t say the same for them – they were donning their blue and white soccer jersey, hair slicked back and eyes bright.
“No, I just mean – are the nightmares back?” they asked softly, brows furrowed and deep brown eyes filled with worry as they did some illegal maneuvers, weaving through cars to get to school on time.
Her silence confirmed their question. They shifted, moving to clasp her hand with their larger hand.
“I’ll stay tonight, alright? You need some fucking sleep.”
Their tone was final – there really was no arguing with Jordan Li sometimes, it was their way or nothing. But Marie didn’t need much convincing. Her sleep schedule had been pretty fucked up, interrupted by the vivid images of gruesome, bloody death. Jordan’s presence in her bed seemed to keep the nightmares at bay.
She wasn’t going to think too deeply about it – it’s just what friends do for each other. Right?
Right.
I’m drooling, why do they look so hot in their kit rn?
Emma’s handwriting was appalling. Marie shot her a dirty look and turned the note over to reply.
Ewww. Sam know ur thirsty for number 2? I’m gonna tell on u.
Jordan and Emma had a weird dynamic, jokingly referring to themselves as “Sister Wives” because they shared a best friend. They were constantly bickering and taunting each other, all in good fun. But they were also fiercely protective of each other, sort of like siblings.
Jordan had gotten into a fistfight last quarter with a girl who kept making gagging noises in Emma’s direction, mocking the way she triggered her abilities. Marie had scolded them like an exasperated mother, lips pursed as she closed the wounds on their knuckles. They didn’t heal as quickly in their female form.
“I went easy on her – should’ve blasted her ass,” they had grumbled, annoyed with God High’s “no using abilities outside of the training facility” policy. Their parents would murder them if they got suspended because of a stupid fight. It was all worth it in the end when Emma gave them a bone-crushing hug to thank them for sticking up for her.
The rest was history.
Marie was pulled out of her thoughts by Mr Russel’s voice dismissing them. Everyone practically sprinted out of there – Evolution of Superhumans always bored them to tears.
“Fucking finally,” Jordan sighed as the three of them strolled into the cafeteria for their lunch break. “Couldn’t keep my eyes open, he really likes the sound of his own voice.”
“Not like you pay attention, anyway,” Emma chimed in.
“Fuck off, short stuff. I literally saw you and Moreau passing notes like middle schoolers.”
“We’re the same fucking height right now!”
Jordan shifted into their taller form, towering over the two girls, just to prove their point. They raised their eyebrow, daring Emma to retaliate.
“Emma’s record is like, 10'5" right now. Unless you magically grow overnight, which you won’t, you can suck it,” Marie interrupted, tired of their bullshit.
“You can suck it,” they retorted childishly, enjoying the way Marie’s ears turned bright red with embarrassment. Emma cackled, feeling like she won. Whatever.
A girl with heavy eyeliner and wild, curly hair sauntered past Jordan, touching their arm. “Good luck on the field today, Jordan,” she murmured.
They winked at her, all smiles, grabbing a tray and moving to the table.
“Whore,” Emma coughed.
Jordan grinned at this, shifting as they sat down next to Andre and nodded to Sam in greeting. They noticed Luke and Cate’s absence. They were probably in an abandoned parking lot somewhere, fucking like rabbits. Good for them.
Sam and Emma were huddled up, talking quietly, while Marie watched Andre shovel food into his mouth with disgust.
“Wha?” he mumbled; cheeks full of shitty cafeteria food.
“Ew, don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s gross.”
A few people had approached their table to wish Jordan luck or make small talk. Before Marie got to know them, she had been jealous of their popularity – she’d always kept to herself mostly, and they one-upped her in this particular area. She soon came to realize that people only knew Jordan on a superficial level. They never let anyone get too close to them or get to know them intimately. She felt a bit smug, knowing that Jordan had let her in. They trusted her to see them in a less-than-perfect state.
“Damn, everyone wants a piece of you today,” Andre observed.
They picked at their plate, pushing the rock-hard chicken tenders around. “Guess so.”
Marie nudged their shoulder with hers. “You’re the only reason anyone here even cares about soccer. Lighten up buttercup, you’re basically famous,” she teased them. Jordan gave her a grateful smile.
“Plus, you look hot as fuck all sweaty and athletic on the field. If you weren’t actually a decent player, I’d be convinced they only let you play to distract the other team with your hotness.”
Sam blinked at his girlfriend. There had never been a time when anyone could successfully predict what the blonde was going to say next.
“No stop, I’m blushing.” Jordan deadpanned.
Marie hid her smile behind her flashcards. “Ready for the presentation next period?” she asked them.
“Nah, I’ll just wing it. Mrs Woods for sure wants to bang me. Easy A,” they shrugged.
Marie rolled her eyes at this and proceeded to read over her cues. She only looked up when Jordan took her tray with theirs, eyes trained on their back, and the gigantic number 2 on their jersey.
God, her friends were weird.
Fuck, I really gotta quit smoking.
Jordan’s lungs were burning, and their mouth tasted like metal a little bit as they dribbled the ball past their opponents skilfully. The ball hit the net just as the umpire blew the whistle signalling the end of the match.
17 – 10. Not bad.
They smiled at their teammates, patting their backs in a very “dudebro” kind of way, even though they were in their fem form right now. They could faintly hear people roaring with excitement in the bleachers, but they were too tired to afford it too much attention. Coach Brinkerhoff smiled as they approached him, ruffling their hair with affection.
“Good job out there, champ. Your stats are looking great, by the way,” he complimented them easily.
“Thanks, Coach,” Jordan beamed.
“Don’t think I didn’t see you dying towards the end. Time to up your cardio.”
Jordan nodded, suddenly feeling emotional. Brink was the only reason they made it onto the team. He had fought tooth and nail with Principal Shetty and the governing body, convincing them that Jordan should have a place on the boys’ team. Their bigender-ism and the fact that they were faster and more agile in female form seemed to really bother the sports administrators, and Brink had shut that down really fast.
They truly loved him. They dreaded the day they graduated and couldn’t hang out in his office to vent about their parents, the weight of the world on their shoulders, and their debilitating crush on Marie.
Jordan waved goodbye to Brink and made their way to the stands, where Emma, Marie, and Cate were donning blue face paint and holding up massive “NUMBER TWO ON THE FIELD, NUMBER ONE IN MY HEART” posters.
“No autographs, please,” Jordan joked, secretly touched by the support they got from their friends.
Emma sighed in fake disappointment. “Aw, I wanted you to sign my tits. Guess that’s off the table.”
Cate looked at her, face contorted in confusion. “Jesus, Emma, what is wrong with you?”
Marie ignored them, eyes trained on Jordan and the biggest smile on her face. She reached out to hug the smaller supe tightly, unbothered by the fact that they were gross and drenched with sweat. She just really had to get her arms around them.
“So proud of you,” she murmured.
Jordan was sure the other girl could hear their pulse going haywire in response. If she did, she said nothing, still smiling at them sweetly.
Cate shoved her over lightly, squeezing Jordan’s cheeks with her gloved hands like a fucking grandmother would.
The four of them walked through the parking lot, making fun of Jordan’s sweaty face.
“Fuck it’s so good,” Jordan moaned around their spoon.
“Jesus, do you need to get a room? Fucking weirdo.”
Marie was stretched out on her bed, scrolling through TikTok while Jordan was next to her, practically inhaling their third slice of the chocolate dessert after dinner.
“Listen, everything Jackie makes is fucking amazing.” She didn’t miss the implications of their sentence.
The air in the room was charged suddenly; it made the hairs on Marie’s neck stand up and her stomach felt weird. She didn’t say anything – what could she possibly say? Jordan was a habitual flirt, and Marie had been a victim far too many times. She didn’t really mind it, she knew they were just joking – but fuck, her brain was stupid, and couldn’t tell the difference sometimes. It had been quite pathetic as of late, the way Jordan reduced her to a flustered mess with a simple glance or a smile.
She stared at them, waiting for them to say something. Do something.
Their hair was still damp and an absolute mess – they hadn’t bothered to style it after they had showered, and they smelled a little bit like her vanilla and coconut body wash. She hadn’t noticed Jordan move closer to her.
They kissed her.
It barely lasted a second, and she could taste chocolate on their lips. They jumped up and off the bed, shifting into their male form in the process.
“Sorry, that’s not… yeah.”
She frowned, sitting up to face them. Her room décor must be super fucking interesting; Jordan was looking everywhere except her. She stood up, forcing them to meet her eyes.
“You’re not doing this for fun, right? You mean it?” Jordan’s eyes softened at her timid tone.
“I mean it, Moreau.” They said it with so much feeling.
Marie leaned up and kissed them. They cupped her jaw with their larger hands, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. She squeezed their waist in response.
Why hadn’t they been doing this the entire time?
The kiss lost its innocence very quickly – they were practically devouring her, just like the damn pie. She gasped when their tongues met, hesitant at first, and soon Jordan was licking into her mouth enthusiastically. They shoved her onto the bed, not letting her catch her breath. Jordan shifted to their smaller form, sucking bruises onto her neck viciously, hands massaging her ass. Marie was trying so fucking hard to be quiet, aware that her parents were downstairs. She thanked whatever deity out there that Annabeth was at Tara’s house – her little sister didn’t need to hear any of this.
Jordan stopped, hovering over her. Their face had changed again.
“Tell me to stop, Marie.” Their deeper voice cracked at the end. She could tell how affected they were by their hardness pressing into her thigh.
“I don’t want to,” she admitted, whispering for some reason.
Jordan grabbed her by the throat, dragging her upwards to give her a filthy kiss. Marie wasn’t familiar with the sounds she was making – this was very foreign to her. Jordan’s hands moved to the hem of her shirt, eyes on her, waiting for her to protest.
She slipped her tee off, just to prove a point to them. She wanted this. Their hesitation was making her feel weird, they were usually so self-assured and confident.
“What’s wrong?”
“If we… do this. I can’t lose you, okay? You’re my best friend.”
They smoothed the crease between her eyebrows with their thumb. Marie closed her eyes. Jordan was touching her with so much care. With love.
She opened her eyes again.
“You won’t. Please, Jordan.”
She didn’t have to ask them twice.
Their hands felt like they were everywhere all at once. They couldn’t seem to stop touching every square inch of her body.
It was perfect. It was them.
They had giggled into the crook of her neck when she had panicked, hearing her parent’s heartbeats, walking past her closed door.
They had playfully nipped the soft flesh on the inside of her thigh when she squirmed, their longer hair tickling her as they moved to lick and suck where she needed them the most.
She had gripped their thighs, encouraging them to take what they needed from her as they straddled her face. She had licked her fingers before curling them inside Jordan, mesmerized by the way their mouth fell open and they bit their hand to muffle their moans.
They had held her hand when they pushed into her for the first time, muffling her cry with their lips and wiping stray tears away with their thumb. They had let her adjust to their body before gently rocking their hips. She had bitten their shoulder and scratched their back as their pace increased – heat growing in her stomach and exploding deliciously.
She had caressed their face, smaller now, and peppered kisses all over it.
Marie fell asleep with an armful of Jordan, face pressed into her naked chest. It felt like coming home. She had no nightmares this time – her dreams filled with dimples and laughter and soft, breathy moans.
They forgot to lock the fucking door.
Marie’s eyes met her mother’s, who had entered to collect her laundry basket. The silence was deafening. Jackie Moreau was fucking furious, her pulse hammering loudly in her daughter's ears. Jordan had sat up, eyes clouded with sleep and their toned chest on display.
“Uh… hey.”
“No more sleepovers. You’re done. When were you going to tell us, Marie? God, I didn’t raise you like this! Are you being safe? I thought we could talk to each other, for fuck’s sake.”
Marie watched her mother pace up and down in the living room, tired of listening to her ranting.
“It literally just happened, Mom.”
“What would your father say? Under our roof, Marie? Seriously?”
Marie sighed.
Did they fuck up? Royally. But she couldn’t bring herself to regret any of it. She was probably a little bit in love with them, and wasn’t that something? She rubbed her eyes, trying to think of a way to calm her mother down.
Her mother’s monologue was interrupted by two knocks on their front door. Marie’s smile grew; she could hear Jordan’s panicked pulse from the sofa.
Her mother was probably going to rip them apart and ask them some incredibly personal questions.
But they were going to get through it.
Together.
Like always.