Chapter Text
Taylors are perfect. Taylors never have a hair out of place. In Wiskayok, the Taylor family is the closest thing to God with their bone-white veneers and impeccable smiles. The Taylors are the type of family to barely lift a finger, to vacation in the Hamptons, to spend the weekends in New York or Italy not, not-
Work a greasy, disgusting minimum wage job.
Jackie huffs out a breath, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. Her hair’s been pulled back into a messy ponytail, and her shoulders ache from her position hunched over the dirty table, trying to wipe away a puddle of wine.
“I’m so sorry again,” the customer says, patting her shoulder as they walk out of the diner.
Jackie’s shoulders burn from the touch. She conceals her flinch as best as possible, plastering on a smile. When the wine is finally soaked up into her rag, she throws it into the dirty dish bucket, her biceps protesting as she lifts it. She returns it to the kitchen, neatly depositing everything into the sink.
“Don’t you have school tomorrow, kid?” her manager, Arthur, asks.
Jackie glances at the clock to see 11:32 pm staring back at her, “Yeah. I can take another table though.”
Arthur’s face, covered with a large beard, contorts into sympathy, “It’s fine. Let me cash you out.”
Jackie swallows her protest. Unladylike, her mother’s voice creeps into her skull, and she wills it away. She puts on her best smile, smile 13, to appear like everything’s fine, as Arthur leads her back to the register. He counts out her tips and then hands the pile of cash over.
“Sorry it was a little slow tonight,” Arthur tells her.
Jackie shrugs, “It’s fine.”
It’s not fine. She’s spent 14 hours on her feet, and all she has to show is a few hundred. The weekend was slow, too slow, and she has rent coming up and her groceries are almost gone, and-
Jackie inhales a small breath through her nose, refusing to let her smile falter. She takes her leave, glancing up at the night sky before rushing over to the nearest bus stop. Honestly, It took her two months to get used to the bus schedule. At least she can hop on the next one to Wiskayok instead of trying to bum a ride.
At least some things go her way, and minutes later the final bus of the night pulls up. She swipes her PATH card and then finds an empty seat, resting the side of her head against the cool window. She closes her eyes, trying to find some rest, even though she won’t sleep on the bus. There were too many unfamiliar factors and possible dangers for her to sleep here.
45 minutes later, the bus rumbles to a stop a few blocks from her house. She gets up, the last person on the bus, and nods to the driver before she heads out. She pulls her thick jacket closer to her body, shoving her hands into her pockets as she starts the cold walk.
January in New Jersey was as miserable as it could be. Her breath comes out in small clouds as she walks, keeping her head low, and her posture slumped. She’s tired, down to her bones, and her body aches whenever she moves. Still, the pain is familiar, she grew up with it after all.
Bright headlights come up from behind her as a car slows. She keeps her head down, quickening her pace and refusing to look at the car beside her.
“Taylor?” a familiar voice calls out.
Jackie stops then and turns, looking past the annoyed face of Kevyn Tan to see Natalie Scatorccio looking at her, body angled forward to see her. She gives a small wave, plastering on a smile.
“What are you doing out so late, Taylor?” Nat asks.
Jackie shrugs, “Wanted some air.”
“It’s fuckin’ freezing out,” Nat’s eyebrows furrow together, “you want a ride?”
Jackie’s miles away from her old home, the place nothing more than a mausoleum to her old life. She shakes her head, her shitty apartment’s only a few minutes away. Besides, Nat doesn’t care about her, she’s only asking out of some sense of pity.
“It’s fine,” Jackie tells her, “see you tomorrow.”
Nat looks like she wants to argue, but Kevyn hits the gas and speeds away without a second thought. Jackie watches them go, then keeps trudging home.
5 hours later, Jackie wakes up and mechanically goes about getting ready. Some things are drilled into her, habits carved into her that she can’t quite shake, her morning routine is one of those. She meticulously does her makeup, styling her hair, and then practicing her smile until it doesn’t hurt.
It’s been a long few months since her birthday. A long few months of dodging Shauna’s calls, working late nights, and trying to get by. Having two holiday breaks back-to-back was enough time for her to get into a new routine, to start getting her feet off the ground. Maybe, life would’ve been easier if she hadn’t fought with Shauna the day before she was disowned. Maybe, her life would be harder. She tries not to think about November and everything that happened in it.
Graduation, at least, was right around the corner. Jackie glances at her worn Rutgers acceptance letter that sits on her bedside table, then tucks it away. Rutgers was the dream, back when she had money, back when she had Shauna and now she has nothing.
(Tragic. Insecure. Boring.)
The words ring in her head. She shoves her earbuds in, trying to drown it all out. As soon as Jackie’s out of her apartment, she locks her door and checks thrice to make sure it is locked. She begins the cold walk to school. Her nose burns already, and her fingers go numb, but she keeps her head down and keeps walking.
Shauna’s not around to drive her anymore. Jackie doesn’t have the heart to ask, because then she’d have to explain why she doesn’t stay with her parents anymore, why she might not be going to Rutgers, why her perfect, little life imploded overnight. It’s better if no one else knows.
Her car’s in the shop so for now she walks. It gives her a chance to move, sitting still has never come naturally to her. There’s too much energy in her body, too much anxiety to burn off. It’s better if she keeps moving.
Jackie tries to keep her mind from wandering as she walks. She focuses instead on the pressure of her feet hitting the pavement. Simpler things. Tries not to think about the impending future, or having to make more decisions, or having to cut out breakfast or dinner because she can’t afford it anymore.
Starving’s in her blood. She tries not to think about the hunger, because then she feels it, those cold, tangs of her stomach clenching around nothing. Remembers the color-coded meal plan on her mother’s fridge, and bile rises in her throat. Jackie swallows, scuffing her toe against the ground as she finally sees Wiskayok.
At this time of year, January, no one is loitering outside. It gives her a moment to compose herself before she enters, the warm air hitting her immediately. She walks to her locker, keeping her gaze straight as she finds her locker. Shauna’s not at hers, thankfully, and she tucks away her jacket.
“Hey, Jackie,” a voice chirps as soon as she shuts her locker.
Jackie looks over to see Lottie grinning at her, alone for once. Usually, Lottie is flocked by another Yellowjacket, it’s rare to see her just by herself.
“Hey,” Jackie responds, plastering on smile 11, friendly and unassuming.
“Are you coming to my party this week?” Lottie asks, tilting her head.
Jackie’s first instinct is to say no. She needs more money to comfortably pay her rent this month, and the only days she can work long shifts are on the weekends. But - Lottie stares at her with those patient, doe eyes that remind Jackie so much of their childhood.
For a moment, Jackie is transported back to when they were young, two kids bound by overbearing parents and expectations. She remembers hiding behind Lottie at Mr. Matthews’ parties, remembers wandering the mansion to play hide-and-seek, remembers soft hands, soft eyes, and the first-ever nickname she got Jack.
Lottie hasn’t called her that in years. The nostalgia hits her in the sternum and threatens to knock her down. Jackie averts her eyes, ignoring her mother’s voice in her head that chastises her and tries not to think about the loss.
“Sure,” she finally says, albeit a little weakly.
Lottie brightens, “Great! We haven’t hung out in a while.”
Jackie nods, words failing her, as Lottie walks away. She stares after the taller girl for a second, before turning around and going to her first class.
School is monotonous enough, she hasn’t seen the other Yellowjackets in a while because of Christmas Break, so she listens as they recap their vacations. When they turn to her, Jackie lies about a trip to Florida and weaves an elaborate story about laying on the beach and trying to tan. They buy it, thankfully, and start to talk about other matters while she picks at her lunch.
She swallows as much food as she can, because lunch is free, but her stomach has shrunk so much over the years that she can barely eat half of it before she’s full. Jackie throws her lunch away and ignores Shauna’s sad eyes as much as she can. They still haven’t talked, not since - tragic, boring, insecure - and Jackie doesn’t have the heart in her to hear her ex-best friend out.
When school finally ends, Jackie doesn’t join the herd of students who rush out to their cars. Instead, she navigates around them, making her way out to the soccer fields. It’s freezing out, and they don’t have practice because of the weather, but Jackie uses her key to open the shed and get out a soccer ball.
The drills are simple. They make sense. They aren’t social cues that pass over her head, inside jokes that she never understands, or weird little looks that she pretends not to notice. Soccer is simple, the burning sensation in her muscles is familiar.
If she has too much energy, then all Jackie can do is think. She’s tired of thinking. Tired of rehashing old fights and trying to re-examine her old life like a home movie. Tired of never being enough.
She’s good at soccer. Her body moves mechanically, as she dribbles the ball, then she shoots it into the goal. Jackie closes her eyes and imagines the roar of a crowd, of the exhilaration of her team lifting her on her shoulders, of being the person to save the day, instead of having to rely on someone else.
She lays down on the turf, letting it pillow her. Her lungs ache a little in her chest, and the rest of her body protests, but it feels good. Her mind is a little quieter. She stares up at the cloudy sky, trying to picture the stars, but can’t quite get their likeness right.
Jackie still has the long walk home. Still has a cold apartment to get back to. But for now, she breathes and tries not to think.
Across the field, Tai and Van walk out of school, laughing amongst themselves. Tai stops suddenly, grabbing Van’s arm and pointing over to the soccer field. Van squints as a frown appears on their face. Tai mimics their expression.
“Is that…Jackie?” Tai says.
Van quietly nods, “Should we…?”
The two exchange a look. Van makes a move to go closer, but Tai stops them with a shake of her head. Another silent conversation, Van’s eyes narrowing as Tai frowns at them. A moment later, they keep walking, as if Jackie was never there at all.
Jackie stands outside the booming party, pulling at the bottom of her miniskirt. Most of her clothes were gone, left behind when she was shoved out of her house, and most of her wardrobe now was second-hand stuff.
Jackie’s only wearing a basic low-cut long-sleeve and a miniskirt. It’s not exactly high fashion, but it’s the best she has. She’s sure the Matthews mansion will feel like a furnace anyway and at least her car’s back and the heater works.
She heads inside, instantly overwhelmed by the loudness. Throngs of bodies greet her, and she shoves past them, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. The inside is too warm, too comforting, too packed with people for her to relax. Jackie searches the room for any of the Yellowjackets, but can’t find them so she just pushes her way toward the backyard.
As soon as the cold air hits her, it’s like she’s back to reality. She instantly shivers, but it’s easier to breathe out there. She scans the backyard and doesn’t see anyone but the baseball boys all near the edge of the woods. At least Jeff doesn’t seem to be with them.
“Where’s your entourage?” a voice gruffs from behind her.
Jackie glances over her shoulder, as Nat steps into place beside her. She has a cigarette between her teeth, but she blows the smoke away from them. Jackie shrugs, trying to seem aloof and like the topic doesn’t sting.
“Dunno, where’s yours?” Jackie points out, gesturing to the distinct lack of Kevyn Tan.
Nat snorts and takes another hit, “Kev’s probably hooking up with some girl in the woods. I saw Shauna and Jeff arrive an hour ago.”
Jackie doesn’t take the bait, “Where are the other girls?”
“JV got wasted and Tai sent them home,” a small smirk appears on Nat’s face, “Laura Lee had a grade-A freakout about something, and Lottie was comforting them. Think Tai and Van dipped already.”
“Boring,” Jackie says.
Nat raises an eyebrow, “You’re hiding out on the porch, I don’t know if you’re one to talk.”
“So are you,” Jackie fires back, her cheeks heating up with embarrassment.
“I, at least have the excuse of a smoke break,” Nat grins, “what about you, Taylor?”
Taylor. Not Jackie or Jack or some nickname. As impersonal of a name as it can be. Jackie bites her lip at the mention of her last name, turning away. She knows Nat didn’t mean it as a jab, but still, the fracture in their friendship makes her sick to her stomach.
Jackie remembers when Nat’s dad died, and sneaking food into her backpack. Remembers luring her to practice with the promise of cigarettes or liquor, and then adding packed sandwiches to sweeten the deal. Remembers lying for her to Coach, whenever Nat would skip, and covering for her when she was hungover.
Did you know it was me? Jackie wants to ask but swallows the words. It’s only a sense of curiosity that drives her, not a need for validation. She just thought it was the right thing to do because she couldn’t imagine losing a parent that young. And then, well, she didn’t have to imagine anymore.
Are we still friends? Were we ever? Jackie wants to say. She thinks they were, maybe at one point. Remembers pats on the shoulder and dance parties in the locker room. Remembers sleepovers and taking care of each other when they got too drunk. But, maybe the intimacy of those actions was all in her head too.
Jackie can’t help but think of freshman year, and watching Nat take a bad hit from another team’s defender. Can’t help but sit in that fear she felt, watching Nat be carted off the field, holding her leg.
Maybe they were never friends. Jackie thought she and Shauna were inseparable, and look what happened there. Maybe all of her relationships were paper-thin, merely wallpaper slapped on top of a corroding wall to hide the cracks in them.
Suddenly, Jackie doesn’t feel like talking anymore and doesn’t feel like pretending. She wants to crawl into her twin bed and pull the covers over her head instead.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jackie says quietly, “see you at school, Nat.”
She turns to leave before a gentle hand grabs her forearm. She flinches, the instinct deep in her, and then tries to school her expression when Nat’s eyebrows raise.
“Uh, I hate to be a dick but,” Nat worries her bottom lip between her teeth, “anyway I can bum a ride?”
Jackie wants to argue, wants to brush the other girl off, but she’s always been a bleeding heart and she loves the girls more than anything. She doesn’t know what she’d do if she wasn’t a Yellowjacket.
“Yeah,” Jackie tells her, “c’mon.”
Nat gives a thankful look, ashing her cigarette and then they re-enter the storm. Jackie’s aggressive with her shoving, ignoring the offended looks she gets, as they push their way to the front and toward the street. Nat stays a step behind her, quiet and contemplative, as Jackie unlocks her car and then hops inside.
It’s a beat-up, old sedan with peeling leather seats and a cracked rearview mirror. Hardly something that a normal Taylor would owe. Jackie ignores Nat’s curious eyes as she starts the car, listening to the engine start before cranking the heat up.
“I always thought you’d have, like, a coupe,” Nat comments.
“Too expensive,” Jackie murmurs, images of the car she was supposed to receive at 18 stuck in her head.
She’d been dreaming of her 18th birthday gift for years, it was the only thing she truly ever wanted. Her dad, Allen, and she had toiled over the color and the make. It was their only way to bond. Jackie thought her life was all figured out, she’d get her dream car and her license.
Instead, on her birthday she got shoved out into the cold with all of her documents and nothing more than pajamas and the sneakers on her feet.
Doesn’t mention that fact to Nat, Jackie doesn’t think she’d care.
“You’re Jackie fuckin’ Taylor,” Nat pushes, incredulous, “nothing is too expensive. Your parents rented out like an entire house in the Hamptons for your 16th. You went to Florida over break.”
“No, I didn’t,” her heart throbs in her chest, a dull ache, “I was lying. I didn’t do anything for Christmas.”
Nat goes silent. The radio crackles on as Jackie drives, taking careful turns as she drives to Nat’s trailer.
“You were lying?” Nat finally says.
Jackie just nods. Doesn’t look over at her, afraid to see her expression.
“Why? Why lie about that?” Nat presses.
Jackie stops at a red light, and finally gives in, looking over. Nat doesn’t seem offended, more surprised. Dark blue eyes scan her face and Jackie is tempted, so, so tempted to spill her deepest secret.
“I-” Jackie cuts herself off.
And then, she remembers. Taylor. They’re not friends. Maybe they never were.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jackie says dully, taking the final turn into the trailer park and rolling to a stop outside of Nat’s place.
“You and Shauna did something though, yeah? I mean, me and Van aren’t big fans of the holiday but we did a shitty little thing,” Nat rambles, seemingly desperate to hear that Jackie celebrated in some way.
Jackie’s eyebrows press together, “Shauna’s Jewish. Besides, we aren’t friends anymore.”
Nat laughs at that, “Okay, maybe you do have jokes, Taylor.”
“Don’t call me that,” Jackie’s voice comes out harsher than she intended and she sees Nat grimace, “sorry. But we aren’t.”
“Is this like the whole, you and Jeff broke up and this time it’s for good?” Nat says.
Jackie tightens her grip on the steering wheel, torn between explaining herself and just kicking Nat out of the car, “No. Shauna was sleeping with Jeff. We’re not friends, and we broke up.”
Nat just blinks at her, “What?”
“Get out of my car, Nat,” Jackie sighs.
“Wait! Are you being for real? That’s like, really fucked up, Jackie,” Nat’s eyes are wide as if she can’t comprehend what Jackie’s saying.
“Yeah, I know. It happened to me,” Jackie hits the unlock button and listens to the satisfying click of the doors, “get out of my car.”
Nat opens her mouth, about to argue before she thinks better of it. She just nods, getting out of the car, and then she leans down to stick her head back in.
“If…” Nat struggles for the words, “never mind. See you tomorrow?”
Jackie just nods. Nat closes the door and Jackie waits until Nat’s safely back into her trailer before she pulls out of the park, back to her empty apartment.