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To put it gently, the days at the precipice of the end of the year are a fucking drag.
Typically, they’re dull and grey and follow a lonely Christmas which, for many years, Natalie spent drinking a glass of the one nice whiskey she owned on a lumpy green couch she picked up at a thrift store when she first got to New York. Then came the Travis years, and by her usual standards you might think those would be marginally less depressing. Except, you’d be wrong because the only thing worse than spending a holiday drinking alone, is spending it drinking with someone who won’t stop side-eyeing you until you have sex with them. And that sex, while ignorable at best, was unsatisfying to such a point that Natalie had to end it all.
Not kill herself, no. Well okay maybe there were some occasions when she thought— okay no. But it did get to a point, after nearly two years (her longest relationship to date), where Natalie had to break up with him. And after she did, Natalie realized just how insulated she had become. The only person she spent any meaningful amount of time with had been Travis. And each night, she returned home to an empty apartment, the only sound the whistle of the cold December wind howling outside.
It wasn’t a conscious decision, but after leaving New Jersey, Natalie found life easier to bear alone. Her mother rarely called, painfully reminding Natalie that she’d left her only family to fend for herself, and it didn’t take much effort to let the rarity of those calls fade into extinction.
Friends were an anomaly and most of her acquaintances were the other servers at the restaurant she’d been working at the past few years. She made a point not to get too close to anyone. Letting people get to know her felt like some sort of sick embarrassment ritual. There was too much about her past that could drive people away.
Over time, Natalie got lonely. Achingly, painfully lonely. To such a point that she even started to feel homesick for fucking New Jersey. It was pathetic.
It was when Natalie had spent an entire week on her couch, barely showering and watching TV with glazed eyes, that she realized absolutely no one cared where she was or what she was doing. If she wasn’t careful she’d die on this couch and wouldn’t be found until the stench of her dead body started to bother the neighbors. Something had to be done.
Which is how she’s found herself newly single and trudging through the slush on the streets of New York City, which is now seeping its way through the holes in her combat boots, to meet Jackie Taylor of all fucking people at some fancy cocktail bar the day after Christmas.
The bar still has all of its decorations up. Twinkling lights drape throughout the tables and ornaments hang from the industrial ceiling, and Natalie threads her way through the maze of tables to a corner booth in the back. Her steps falter a little when she realizes there are three other people in the booth with Jackie. Natalie hadn’t been aware that this would be a group outing, but she guesses she shouldn't be surprised when Shauna can be found literally anywhere Jackie is, and Van and Lottie are the only other former Yellowjackets living in New York.
“Natalie, finally!” Jackie tuts as Natalie approaches the table with a sheepish look on her face.
When Jackie called her, a full-on high school reunion was never mentioned, and she’s beginning to think that was a purposeful choice. More than likely, Natalie would have made up a shitty excuse to get out of this, had she known what Jackie really had planned. Her old captain merely said that they should 'get together' now that she’s living in the city. And, truthfully, Natalie was desperate.
“Um, hi– everyone,” Natalie says, giving an awkward little wave. She slides into the only side of the booth with a free seat while the rest of them greet her, next to Lottie in all of her long-legged, glossy-haired glory.
Lottie takes a sip out of something in a coupe glass and gives her a small smile. “Hi, Nat. How have you been?”
It’s so casual that Natalie almost forgets she hasn’t seen Lottie in years.
“I’m, uh, good.” Natalie says, even though it’s a little more than a blatant lie, and before she can do the polite thing and ask Lottie how she is in return, Jackie interrupts with a clap of her hands.
“Alright, now that we’re all here,” Jackie starts and Natalie looks around at the rest of them in confusion. What is going on?
“What is this?” Natalie whispers under her breath to Lottie, and Lottie just shrugs. Absolutely no help.
Neither Shauna nor Van seem to carry the same burden of uncertainty as Nat, and Van takes a swig of an IPA and tilts her head towards Jackie, motioning for Natalie to pay attention. So Nat sits up a little straighter and lets Jackie have the floor, doing her best not to regress back to her eighteen year old self.
“I have decided, now that I am no longer welcome back in Wiskayok due to my 'lifestyle choices',” Jackie airquotes. “Those of us here in the city have to start spending some real time together or I’m going to go absolutely crazy. The only people I’m exposed to at the moment are Shauna’s pretentious ass friends from Brown.” She glances at Shauna quickly and mutters, “No offense.”
“Wait– hold on.” Nat says, shaking her head. “No longer welcome? Jackie, what are you talking about?”
Jackie’s eyebrows knit together as she looks at Nat. “You mean you haven’t heard?”
Just as Natalie is opening her mouth to say no, Van butts in to explain what the rest of them clearly already know.
“Jackie’s gay.” She says, plain and simple. Natalie forces herself to keep her jaw from dropping.
“I’m a lesbian, Van. Please.” Jackie says and turns back to Natalie. “You really haven’t heard?”
Stunned into silence, Natalie just shakes her head slowly. Since when is Jackie a lesbian?
“Hmm,” Jackie hums. “I would’ve thought everyone from high school would be talking about it by now.”
Finally, at that, Natalie finds something she can say. “I don’t really talk to anyone from high school.”
“Travis didn’t tell you?” Jackie asks.
Well, Jackie's self importance certainly hasn't changed, Natalie thinks and her nostrils flare. First of all, how would Travis have known? Second, it’s not like they were pouring over the lives of their former classmates during pillow talk. Plus, Natalie’s not sure how new this revelation of Jackie’s is, so there’s a good chance she and Travis were broken up before the news got out. And Natalie’s not really in the mood to explain that she and Travis are no longer together and, in fact, really aren’t on speaking terms at all, so she just says, “No, he didn’t.”
“Well, either way, my parents weren’t too thrilled about it and said I couldn’t come home if I was going to bring 'that girl', so I needed a distraction.”
Who is that girl? Why does no one else seem as shocked by all of this as Nat is? Lottie and Van are just sitting there nodding and sipping their drinks like Jackie just told them her favorite color is pink or something equally as obvious.
Lottie must sense Natalie’s utter confusion because she leans over and says, “She means Shauna.”
Oh. Yeah, okay this is starting to make more sense. Somehow Jackie dating Shauna was less surprising than Jackie being gay– lesbian– or whatever. Natalie’s not sure how that works out in her brain, but it seems like one of her more logical conclusions.
It must take Natalie too long to work all of this out because in her moment of silence it has taken Shauna all of ten seconds to narrow her eyes at Natalie and ask, “Do you have a problem with that?”
“No! No. Of course not.” Natalie blurts. “Good for you, Jackie. Or I mean— both of you?”
Does that mean Shauna is a lesbian too? Natalie’s head is starting to hurt. She needs a fucking drink.
“That’s very kind. Thank you, Natalie.” Jackie says magnanimously, and Natalie is starting to get kind of darked out. Maybe Jackie Taylor is a bit more complex than Natalie originally thought.
“Now, all of that being said. I brought all of you here today to tell you that we have plans for New Year's Eve.” Jackie grins.
“Umm, unless those plans include freezing our asses off in Times Square, I don’t think so.” Van says skeptically. “I told Tai we would go see the ball drop.”
“Well, tell Tai you have other plans now.” Shauna says.
“Come on,” Jackie pleads. “It will be so much fun! And you all can bring whoever you want! Shauna and I are staying with Lottie, and her apartment is the perfect place for a party. Right?”
Lottie nods.
“That’s only in like five days,” Van complains. “Surely I’m not the only one who already has plans.”
She points her gaze to Natalie, waiting for backup or something that Natalie actually wishes she could give her. The rest of them turn to her and, unfortunately, Natalie can’t think of a good enough lie right now.
“I– uh. Don’t think I have anything.”
“Perfect!” Jackie grins. “It’s settled. Van, you can call Taissa and tell her when you get home.”
The way Van sighs so dramatically forces Natalie to stifle a laugh, and a warm nostalgic feeling grows in her chest. Maybe this wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world?
Eventually, once it was decided (i.e. Jackie informed them) that they would need to spend the next few days planning, Natalie finally got a drink and listened quietly as Jackie enlisted each of them to run different errands. Thankfully, Nat was put on decorations duty with Lottie, and Natalie knows Lottie well enough to know that she can take a back seat and let Lottie figure all of that out for the both of them.
The bar thinned out as the night dragged on, and outside the flakes of snow started to pile up in little mounds on the sidewalk. The looming fifteen minute train ride and ten minute walk back to her apartment began to seem impossible and Natalie knew if she didn’t leave now her chances of freezing her ass off would only increase exponentially.
“Nat,” Jackie pleaded. “Just come back to Lottie’s. It’s not far.”
“Jackie, not tonight. I should really go back home.”
“But the weather,” Jackie waved her hand wildly in the direction of the windows at the front of the bar. “You’ll freeze!”
“I’ll be fine.” Natalie insisted.
Jackie rolled her eyes. “You are so fucking stubborn. At the very least will you just–” She fished around her purse for an old receipt and pen, “call to let us know you get home safe and sound. Please?”
“That seems a little excessive.”
“Natalie Scatorccio, it is twenty degrees outside and snowing. How else am I going to know that you haven’t fallen under a snowdrift and died?” Jackie postulated, gravely.
“This is New York,” Natalie argued. “Not the canadian wilderness.”
“I don’t care,” Jackie’s upper lip stiffened. “Promise you’ll call?”
It must have been the first time in Natalie's life that she's ever felt bad for Jackie Taylor. At least her own mom hadn't barred her from coming home, she just didn't encourage it. To add to it all Natalie's defenses must have been paper fucking thin, because she ends up back at her apartment building, shaking and a little damp from the snow, clutching a receipt with the number to Lottie Matthews’ landline written in glittery gel ink, rapidly regretting her decision not to splurge for an apartment with an elevator.
The walk up the creaking wooden stairs is agonizing, and she rushes to turn the heat on after shutting the front door behind her. She sheds her black overcoat and immediately crawls under the covers of her bed, looking over to the nightstand where both the TV remote and her telephone taunt her. It would be so easy to just turn on the TV and fall asleep to the soft lull of the pixelated screen. Yeah, she promised Jackie she would let them know she got home, but did they really care?
It’s highly likely that they probably don’t, but Natalie concedes that she’s short on people who care where she is and what she’s doing at the moment so… she might as well.
The dial tone blares in her ear for a moment as she props herself up and begins to punch in Lottie’s number. A sick little thrill runs through her as she realizes that she now has direct access to talk to Lottie Matthews. Any time she wants. Well, any time she wants and any time Lottie happens to be at home and available, so it’s not exactly without restrictions. But for some reason, that fact makes Natalie feel a little powerful. Lottie had once been so unreachable, so enigmatic. Merely a pretty girl she once played on a soccer team with that maybe she’d see on the news one day and tell her kids, oh her? I went to school with her. Except now, within the course of a couple of hours, Natalie knows exactly how to reach Lottie. If she wants to, that is.
“Hello?” Lottie answers.
“Hey, Lottie… It’s uh– Nat.” Natalie fiddles with the fraying edge of her quilt and clears her throat. Lottie is silent on the other end of the line and Natalie figures she should say something more than just that. “Jackie, she told me to call when I got home okay, and so here I am. Calling.”
Thank god Lottie can’t see her face right now. Her cheeks are flaming.
“Oh yeah, of course.” The sound of Lottie padding through what must be some giant penthouse apartment echoes through the phone. A door opens. “Jackie! Nat made it home!”
“Oh good! Tell her goodnight–” Jackie squeals, cut off by someone that Natalie is almost certain is Shauna.
“Goodnight, Jackie.” Nat laughs.
“She says goodnight!” Lottie parrots. There’s the sound of the door closing, but Lottie stays on the line.
“So I guess we should get together to figure out these decorations soon.” Lottie says, and Natalie can hear the rustling of something. Covers? The image of Lottie talking to her in bed pops into Natalie’s head, and it makes her feel a little bit like a pervy intruder, spying on someone alone in their bedroom.
“Suuure,” Natalie sarcastically draws out the word.
“What do you mean, ‘suuure’?” Lottie asks.
Natalie sighs. She’s not going to pretend to be something she’s not. “Lottie, you and I both know this is going to be something that we say we’ll do together. But, really, you’ll pick all of it out and I’ll tack my name onto it at the end so everyone, and by everyone I mean Jackie, is happy.”
“Hmm,” Lottie hums. “That’s really what you think will happen?”
“Yup,” Natalie says with an assured confidence.
“Well, what about me? And my happiness?”
“What about your happiness?”
“I’m not going to be very happy if you make me go shopping all by myself.” Lottie’s frown is practically audible– a little pout that used to remind Natalie of a wounded baby deer. That little line between her eyebrows that only shows up when she’s being really serious is probably visible right in the middle of her forehead.
“I’m pretty sure you’ve been fine shopping without me for the majority of your life, Lottie. Just think of it like any other day.”
“That may be true, but now that I have the image of you pushing a shopping cart through a Party City. I can’t pass up this opportunity.”
“You’re living in a completely different reality if you think I’m going to be the one pushing the cart.” Natalie tells her.
“My reality can be whatever I want it to be, Nat.” Lottie taunts.
“I never said it couldn’t be.”
“So…” Lottie pauses hopefully. “Does that mean you’ll go?”
Natalie groans. “Fine.”
The line is silent for a moment and Natalie holds her breath, waiting for Lottie to say something. She doesn’t know what.
“Natalie–”
“Yeah?” Fuck, she said that way too fast.
Why does this feel humiliating? Sure, she hasn’t really had a conversation this long that didn’t involve someone at work for weeks. And if she takes Travis out of the equation then it might be months. But she isn’t like… socially stunted or anything. Natalie can talk to people and have normal relationships, it’s just been a while.
“I was just gonna say, it was nice to see you tonight.”
Natalie gulps and inches further down into the covers. “It was nice to see you too, Lottie.”
The next evening, despite all of her protests, Natalie meets Lottie on the ground floor of her apartment building to go shopping. Breezing out of the elevator, Lottie is draped in a long fur coat complete with a lined hood to keep out the falling snow that didn’t relent for even an hour last night. When she sees Nat, she frowns.
“You’re going to want more than just that.” She pointedly looks at Natalie’s thin black coat, and Nat feels a little offended. This jacket has served her well for the past three winters.
“It’s not even that bad outside,” Natalie says, glancing outside to the smatter of flurrying snowflakes flying through the air, but Lottie is already pushing the elevator button to go back upstairs.
“Nope, I don’t want to hear it.” Lottie barely gets out before the doors close, and Natalie is stuck in the lobby for another ten minutes, tapping her foot with impatience.
When Lottie finally drifts back out of the elevator she is holding a matching set of red knit gloves, scarf, and hat. The thought of wearing some fancy, cashmere set that Lottie owns makes Natalie nervous.
“You shouldn’t trust me with your nice stuff, Lottie.” Natalie says with a nervous edge to her voice, shaking her head. “There’s no way I could replace designer anything if something happens to it. Even these little mittens.”
“Well, considering I made these myself, you won’t need to. And if it really came down to it, I think you could cover a ball of yarn.”
Lottie wraps the scarf around her neck and gently places the hat on her head. Natalie’s bangs fall into her eyes, and she brushes them away with a gloved hand. The scarf engulfs her in a sweet, musky scent. Maybe jasmine? Whatever it is, it's no doubt the remnants of whatever perfume Lottie wears and it smells fucking good. Natalie fights off the urge to breathe in deep and let her eyes sink shut.
“There,” Lottie says, patting her on the head. The satisfied look on her face makes Natalie blush, just a little. “Time to go.”
They hail a cab to the closest Party City and Lottie pulls out a list from Jackie as they enter the store. Natalie takes a peek at the list over Lottie’s impossibly tall shoulder and groans when she sees party hats written at the very top.
For as much as she insisted she wouldn’t be pushing the cart, Lottie gives her one look and Natalie does, in fact, end up pushing the cart. They stroll down the aisles and Lottie tosses in different packs of silver streamers and fake glasses made out of paper that spell out 1999. It’s eerily normal. Like something they could have been doing this whole time except they haven’t. And Natalie hasn’t seen Lottie in years, then why does this feel so familiar?
Lottie plucks up a silver party hat and faces Natalie, holding the hat out in front of her and closing one eye to imagine Nat wearing it. The tip of her pink tongue peeks out of her lips in concentration and Natalie shakes away the fascinated urge to stare at it.
“Think this will work?” Lottie squints in concentration.
“Oh just give it here, you look ridiculous,” Natalie reaches out to take the pointed hat out of her hand and places it on her head, pulling the elastic down under her chin. She raises an eyebrow and gives Lottie a look that says, see?
“Yeah, that works.” Lottie says, smug look tugging at her lips.
“I don’t look like a loser?”
Lottie hums and pretends to think about it before looking Natalie directly in the eyes. “Well, you’re definitely a loser. But no, I think it makes you look… good.”
It’s not even a real compliment, so why is her face so hot all of a sudden? Something deep and low in her stomach jumps at the way Lottie is looking at her. Are Lottie’s eyes usually this dark? This hooded? And her eyelashes are so long, like pretty little wings. Suddenly, Nat wants to take off her coat and cool off.
Startled by her own visceral reaction, she quickly pulls the hat off and throws it in the cart. What the hell is wrong with her?
The conversation falls into a bit of a lull as they head to the front of the store to check out. Natalie is a bit thrown off by whatever happened back there and she can’t seem to think of anything at all to say. So she just follows Lottie lamely through the store, staring at the back of her shiny, dark curls and letting Lottie swipe her credit card for the cashier.
“By the way, Jackie wants to know your headcount.” Lottie mentions as she waves an arm to get the attention of a taxi outside the store amidst the dreadful post-holiday traffic.
“My what?” Natalie asks over the deafening sound of cars honking.
A cab pulls over and Natalie opens the door, allowing Lottie to slide into the black leather backseat first. Lottie gives the driver their addresses and asks if he doesn’t mind dropping Natalie off first before answering Natalie’s question.
“I meant, like, how many people are you bringing to the party?” Lottie explains, blinking. Little flecks of white snow dot her dark hair and eyelashes, making her look like some sort of winter goddess.
“Well, that would be just me then.” Natalie internally wills her not to ask more questions, but of course she doesn’t listen.
“That’s it? Not even a plus one?” Lottie asks and Natalie shakes her head no. “Where’s Travis going to be?”
Jesus, okay she’s going to have to explain now. There’s no stopping Lottie once she wants to know something, that’s for sure.
“Oh um– Travis and I aren’t really… I guess we broke up. A few months ago.” Natalie says, and it doesn’t even feel that bad once it comes out. Sort of, relieving actually.
“You guess?”
Lottie’s incredulous voice is interrupted when the driver lays on the horn and the cab jerks to a stop. A curse comes from the front seat and then the cab swerves into the left lane, jostling Natalie over to Lottie’s side of the backseat until Natalie looks down and their legs are touching. Carefully, she inches herself back to her own side before responding.
“No, no guessing. We did.”
“Oh?” Lottie's eyebrows raise.
“Uhhh yeah?”
Lottie wears this confused, or maybe concerned, look on her face, and it frustrates Natalie that she can’t read it. Before she can ask what, the cab pulls up outside of Natalie’s building and she has to get out of the cab soon or they risk blocking the lane.
She scrambles for something to say, if only to get that weird fucking look off of Lottie’s face, but she can’t think of anything. Her heart rate picks up and she moves to open the door. There has to be a way to make sure this isn’t the end of this conversation.
“Call me?” Natalie asks urgently, half out of the cab now and holding the door open against the harsh pull of the wind. A litany of cars honk behind them. “When you get home safe?”
“Sure, Nat.” Lottie nods, all frost bitten cheeks and furrowed brows. The imprint of her face clings to Nat’s mind as she closes the door.
Natalie swears she waits by the phone for almost an hour once she’s inside. Distractedly, she pulls on a pair of pajama pants and a tank top, scrubbing her face with some soap and doing her best to finish getting ready for bed without glancing back at the telephone sitting mute on her nightstand. When it finally rings, she’s been in bed rubbing her legs together to warm up, staring at the ceiling and wondering how long until this starts to become pathetic or if it already has. She picks up almost immediately.
“Hi?” Natalie's eagerness is barely contained.
“Hiii Natalie,” Lottie sing songs. “I’m home.”
Natalie shifts in her bed, pulling the quilt up to her shoulders and laying back on the two pillows she has stacked up behind her.
“All safe and sound?” Natalie teases, mocking Jackie from the night before.
“Considering I’m about to take the world’s longest bubble bath, I would say, yeah, I’m more than safe and sound.”
Natalie stiffens. “Oh, sorry– I can go–”
“No, it’s fine,” Lottie insists coolly. “I just need to warm up a little before bed. It’s fucking freezing outside.”
“Oh, okay.” Natalie croaks.
The sound of water lapping against the sides of Lottie’s bathtub conjures an image in Natalie’s mind that makes her throat constrict. At first, all Natalie can picture are her legs, long and tan, sinking into steaming foamy water and sliding against each other. Fuck, okay. She’s not above admitting it: Lottie is hot. And Natalie has gone too long with this pent up energy inside her that the objective truth that Lottie Matthews is attractive seems to be seeping its way into her consciousness and fucking with her brain.
It’s not like she hasn’t noticed it before. In high school, everyone knew Lottie was pretty. Part of the appeal was definitely the whole quiet, rich girl thing she had going on, but there was no debate that Lottie was beautiful. Like genuinely, uncontestedly beautiful.
So surely, Natalie’s visceral reaction to the thought of Lottie doing the very normal task of bathing, is just an amalgamation of two facts. One, that Lottie is objectively pretty. And two, that it’s been so long since Natalie has had, like, proper sex that anything will turn her on. Including, it seems, the idea of Lottie in the bathtub.
But Natalie is not so beholden to these thoughts that she needs to make this whole situation weird, and clearly Lottie doesn’t think it is. There have always been certain things about girls that make Natalie a little flushed and jumpy, nothing that she’s ever acted on, but still. It’s not the most monumental revelation in the world. It’s never impeded on any of her friendships (as few as she’s had), and Lottie does happen to be someone she would consider an old friend. Natalie’s not going to let her sex starved brain get in the way of that. Plus, girls talk to their friends on the phone while they’re in the bath all the time. It’s totally normal.
“Sooo,” Lottie says, filling the silence in which Natalie has been freaking the fuck out in.
“I just wanted to explain,” Natalie says. There is a purpose for this phone call other than Natalie stammering over the thought of Lottie’s soap covered skin. “In the cab earlier, I was being weird.”
“Well, you’re always being a little bit weird.” Lottie tells her. “It wasn’t like it was that out of the ordinary.
“I know, but still. I just haven’t really told anyone about it yet.”
“About you and Travis? You mean you haven’t told anyone?”
“I guess– well, no. No one.”
“Why not?”
Natalie thinks about it for a moment. Why hasn’t she? The easiest answer is that no one has asked. But if she’s really being honest with herself, it’s because admitting that is like admitting that she lost something. Someone that, at one point, she did care about. And that would show a vulnerability– cause people to pity her. The last thing Natalie wants is for someone to pity her.
“I don’t know,” is all she says instead. “It hasn’t come up.”
“You said it’s been months,” Lottie deadpans. “And in all that time, it hasn’t come up?” The disbelief in her voice isn’t well contained at all, and this whole thing is starting to frustrate Natalie. Can’t Lottie see that she doesn’t want to talk about it?
The indignation is crawling up her throat and she finally spits it out into the receiver when she says, “Yeah, Lottie. It hasn’t come up because there is no one to tell. I don’t just have a bunch of friends waiting around for me to call and tell them what I’ve been up to. Is that what you want to hear?” Something inside her cracks.
Lottie takes a sharp inhale at Natalie’s sudden outburst and then she’s quiet for a moment before she says, meekly, “No.”
Natalie feels at a loss for words, suddenly guilty for snapping at Lottie. She didn’t deserve that.
“Sorry… that wasn’t fair of me.”
“No it wasn’t.” Lottie agrees, sagely. Then she pauses for a long moment before saying, “You really don’t like to let people in. Do you?”
It’s posed as a question, but Natalie can tell that Lottie isn’t asking. She says it like she’s realizing something about Nat for the first time– something that Natalie doesn’t seem to be privy to and explains an integral part of her. Her skin itches with annoyance that she doesn’t know what it is.
“What are you a shrink?” Natalie bites.
“No,” Lottie counters. “But I think I can tell when someone might need one.”
Natalie’s nostrils flare, unable to tell where the heat in her body is coming from. Whatever the source is, she's frustrated and uncomfortable.
“Doesn’t everyone?” She grumbles.
At that, Lottie laughs. A light hearted and breezy laugh that digs even deeper into Nat’s skin, making her breath pick up.
“They probably do.” Lottie says.
There’s a charged silence that prompts Natalie to shift around in her bed, not knowing what to say, but also dreading the idea of hanging up.
“Was it a sex thing?” Lottie asks abruptly.
“What? No.” Natalie blusters. The question catches her so off guard that the lie comes out automatically, but she winces when she realizes what she’s done. She doesn’t want to make a habit out of lying to Lottie, someone who seems to be honest to a fault.
“Then did he cheat? It seems like men are always cheating. Or wait– did you cheat?” Lottie gasps.
“I did not cheat, Lottie!”
It’s not as if Natalie hadn’t thought about cheating, she just… couldn’t ever bring herself to go through with it. And to be honest, in the few opportunities she’d had to do it, it hadn’t seemed worth it.
“Oh grow up, Nat. It’s not like cheating’s against the law.”
“That still doesn’t mean I cheated,” Natalie mumbles, picking at a thread in her quilt.
“Then what was the issue?” Lottie asks.
Natalie searches for the right word, attempting to put it gently. “It was… a chemistry issue.”
“Ahhh, so it was a sex thing.”
Natalie rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine. Since you’re sooo interested–
“I am interested.” Lottie interrupts, and suddenly her teasing tone of voice is gone. “Seriously, Nat. You can talk to me.”
She says it with such sincerity that Natalie melts into her sheets. Her voice is soft and just so goddamn sweet that it really makes Natalie want to talk to her, despite how terrified she is of it. Lottie has this magnetism– one that pulls you in and makes you believe that she means every little thing she says. And Natalie finds that she’s not immune to it.
“Things hadn’t been great for a while,” Natalie finally admits. “It seemed like all he ever wanted to do was hook up and we never really… talked. Like about anything. And then when we were hooking up, it never went–” Natalie searches for the best way to put this, “how I wanted it to. Something was always missing.”
“You mean you didn’t come,” Lottie puts it for her, bluntly.
Natalie grimaces. It feels like some sort of moral failing on her part or maybe proof that she’s a selfish person. It wasn’t just that, but that certainly played a big part in it. “No… I didn’t.
“Does that always happen?” Lottie asks. If any other person had said it, Natalie would’ve assumed they were being cruel, teasing her for something out of her control. But Lottie sounds genuine, Natalie keeps telling herself. It’s so obvious to Natalie that she means well, even without having to see her face.
“I mean, yeah, it seems like it.” She shrugs.
“That can happen sometimes, I think.” Lottie says. “When you don’t feel truly connected to who you’re with.”
Natalie is silent for a moment. “Yeah, I guess it can.” She notes, quietly.
Lottie is quiet for a moment, giving Natalie ample time to wonder what Lottie is thinking, what she’s doing. It’s kind of driving her fucking crazy that she can’t see her face and read all of her expressions.
“I should go to sleep.” Natalie says finally. If she keeps this going any longer she’s going to explode with… with something. She can’t decide what. “And I’ll let you finish your– your bath.”
“Mhm, okay.” Lottie hums thoughtfully. “Goodnight Natalie.”
Natalie can still hear the sound of the water swishing around in the receiver. She rubs a hand down her face.
“Night, Lottie.”
After the click of Lottie hanging up the phone, Natalie groans loudly to her empty apartment and shoves the phone back on the cradle. She burrows far down in her bed, throwing the covers over head and squeezing her eyes shut, trying her best to ignore the thoughts of Lottie damp and flushed and the growing ache between her legs.
Natalie’s phone doesn’t ring again until the next afternoon, and this time it's Jackie asking her to come over and try on clothes.
“Pleeease,” Jackie begs. “I need help deciding what to wear.”
Balancing on her tiptoes, Natalie reaches up to open a cabinet and take down a plate for the sad little turkey sandwich she’s just made. “Don’t you, like, literally have a girlfriend that can help you with that kind of thing?” She asks.
“You don’t get it,” Jackie groans. “Shauna can’t see my outfit until new year’s. It has to be a surprise.” She pauses for a moment before slipping in, quieter, “And she’s out with a mentor right now.”
“Ohhh, so you’re jealous,” Natalie taunts her before taking a bite and fighting off a smile while she chews and waits for Jackie to stammer.
“I– I am not,” Jackie argues. “Like I would be jealous of some crotchety, old literature professor.”
“You would be if the professor was hot,” Natalie points out.
“The professor is not hot.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do, okay?” Jackie says indignantly. Natalie has sufficiently needled her so she uncharacteristically decides to lay off.
“Well, what about Lottie? Can’t she help you? You are staying at her apartment.” Natalie raises the sandwich to take another bite.
“Lottie’s leaving,” Jackie says wistfully and Natalie perks up, letting the sandwich fall back down to the plate.
“Oh?” Natalie asks, doing her best to keep her voice nonchalant.
“Yeah some dinner with her parents or something.”Jackie pauses dejectedly, as if to let it sink in that Natalie is truly her last resort.
Natalie sighs and finally relents.“Give me half an hour,” she reluctantly agrees.
By the time Natalie arrives at Lottie’s building and Jackie lets her up to the apartment, Lottie has left for dinner and Natalie has talked herself out of her crippling anxiety over the potential of seeing her again after the weirdness of last night. She still feels worked up as hell, and the chances of resolving that issue anytime soon are slim to none. At the very least, there’s no longer a chance of seeing Lottie and risking her reading Nat's mind and finding an image of herself in the bathtub burned into Nat's frontal cortex like a brand.
“I’ve set out all my options in the guest room,” Jackie says, leading Natalie through Lottie’s historic, wood-floored apartment. It’s not as modern as Natalie had imagined it and there’s a lot more antique furniture than she would've though. Not that Natalie imagined much about Lottie’s apartment past the fact that it must be big. And it is large, at least over twelve hundred square feet, Natalie guesses.
They pass a wood-burning fireplace and Jackie notices Natalie staring. She explains that Lottie used to hardly ever light it, but Shauna told her it’s stupid to have such a luxury and not even use it. Soon after, Lottie went out and bought firewood on the condition that Shauna be the one start the fire.
Jackie offers Natalie a glass of red wine out of an open bottle in the kitchen and Natalie gratefully accepts. Then she pulls Natalie into a cozy, lamp-lit guest bedroom with a large floor length mirror and motions to the dresses laid out on the bed that are all variations of something black or sparkly.
“Okay, which one first?” Jackie considers the bed full of dresses.
Automatically, Natalie’s eyes flit to a leather mini dress that seems like the best option to her. But then, she remembers that whatever Jackie picks is going to need to be something that Shauna will like and she doubles back. It hasn’t been so long that Natalie has forgotten that she and Shauna don’t exactly have the same style. Instead, Natalie points to a silver rhinestone number that looks the most like Jackie and says, “Try that one.”
Jackie agrees and Natalie floats back out to the living room to take advantage of the roaring fire and give Jackie some privacy to change. Perching on the couch, Natalie sips her glass of wine and gazes out the bay window to her left, watching snow fall on a perfect view of the skyline, doing her best to ignore the urge to be nosy and look through all of Lottie’s things. After a few minutes Jackie bounces out of the guest room to show off the first dress.
“What do we think?” She asks, turning slowly in a circle to give Natalie the full picture. The dress looks a little awkward on her, mostly because Jackie has to hunch slightly to keep the straps up.
“It’s alright.” Natalie says, but her voice is high pitched and forced, and Jackie obviously clocks it. She tilts her head to look at it from a different angle, brows knitting together. Maybe some shoes would help? Smoothing her hands down the dress, Jackie grimaces.
“No, you’re right.” Jackie says, shaking her head. “It’s too much. I’ll try the next one.” She heads back into the guest bedroom.
Natalie is alone again and the pull to snoop is finally too much to bear. Walking over to a row of built in shelves, Natalie examines the pictures and little trinkets that Lottie has lined up. It seems Lottie likes this certain set of silver woodland creatures, she has them spread out all over the shelf.
There are several pictures, mostly of younger Lottie and their friends from high school. No pictures of her parents, Nat notices. Normally, she would think that’s strange, but it’s not like Natalie has any pictures of her own mom up in her apartment. Natalie also notices, very pointedly, there are no pictures of Lottie with anyone that Natalie could convince herself is a boyfriend. Or girlfriend.
“I look like you,” Jackie frowns as she pads back into the living room in the leather dress.
“Okay, just because I used to be goth doesn’t mean every item of black clothing looks like me,” Natalie argues, glancing over her shoulder at Jackie, who fiddles with the silver zipper that runs up the front of the dress.
Jackie huffs. “Still, this isn’t the one either.”
Natalie shrugs and Jackie moves to go back into the bedroom, but Natalie stops her. “Hold on,” She says slowly and Jackie pauses. “Can I ask you something?”
Cautiously, Jackie narrows her large eyes. “Maybe. What?”
“Is Lottie also a lesbian?”
Crossing her arms, Jackie huffs. “What do you mean also?”
Natalie’s hands fly up to show Jackie she doesn’t mean it in any kind of way, “I just mean like, you know, you and Shauna… then there’s Tai and Van…” She lists off and walks slowly to sit back down on the couch.
“Technically, Shauna’s bisexual.” Jackie states, just to be contradictory.
“That’s great. Not what I asked, though.”
Sighing, Jackie tilts her head. “Honestly, I’m not totally sure.” Jackie says and Natalie’s heart sinks for a reason that she doesn’t quite understand. “None of us have ever really seen or heard of her going out with anyone, and one time I asked her if she was ‘gay or something like that’ and she just laughed and said ‘something like that’.”
Okay, okay. That could be something. A hopeful surge rises up inside of her and Natalie’s chest swells. At the very least this means that Lottie probably isn’t straight. What the bigger question is, though, is why Natalie even cares in the first place. For all intents and purposes, Natalie has considered herself to be straight for the majority of her life. So why does she care if Lottie likes girls? Just because Natalie was getting all hot and bothered over her being in the bath during their phone call? And to make matters worse, is she a shitty friend for even speculating about all of this in the first place? Jesus, she needs to get a grip.
But instead of burdening Jackie with all of this fucking chaos going on inside of her brain, she just says, “Oh, cool.”
“Why do you care?” Jackie asks skeptically.
Busying herself in her glass of wine and doing what she does best, avoiding, Natalie shrugs. Jackie doesn’t seem to be too convinced of Natalie’s nonchalance, but she doesn’t press her any further.
By the time Jackie finishes trying on all of the dresses, Natalie has finished her glass of wine and poured another. At one point she gets so bored that she turns on Lottie’s TV, resigning herself to watch a rerun because nothing good is on.
Eventually, Jackie decides on a gold shimmery dress with thin straps that’s a little bit flowy, but not too much that it absolutely swallows her. And Natalie actually isn’t lying when she says she likes it. Once she’s finished, to Natalie’s horror, Jackie asks her what she is going to wear for the party and Natalie realizes that she has no fucking clue. The only dress she owns is from high school and animal print.
“You should wear the leather one!” Jackie insists as Natalie shakes her head.
“It’s yours, Jackie. I’m not going to steal it.”
“Oh my god, Natalie. I’m not even going to wear it, just try it on. For fucks sake.” Jackie says at her wits end.
Beginning to realize that she needs to just stop fucking fighting it whenever people are being nice to her, Natalie gives up and tries on the stupid dress.
In the guest bedroom, she slips out of her jeans and long sleeve to shimmy the leather dress on and zip it up. Carefully, she examines herself in the mirror and it pains her to admit it, but it looks really good on her. Maybe, a little tight in the boobs where she has a bit more to work with than Jackie, but nonetheless with some fishnets and boots this would really be the perfect outfit.
Natalie is half way turned around and trying to check out how her ass looks in the mirror when the heavy thud of the front door and voices alert her that someone just got there. Immediately, she starts praying it’s Shauna.
Putting it off for as long as she can, and eavesdropping enough to figure out that it’s Lottie who just arrived home, Natalie paces around the room and steels herself to go out to the living room and face them. She slams the rest of her second glass of wine and takes a deep breath, finally exiting the guest bedroom when Jackie starts to call her name impatiently.
Shyly, Natalie steps out into the living room, immediately bombarded by the sight of Lottie making herself a glass of wine in the kitchen.
“I knew it! You look so hot, Nat.” Jackie exclaims. At her comment, Lottie whips her head around sharply, accidentally making eye contact with Natalie like a deer in the headlights. The glass Lottie’s holding suddenly slips through her fingers and falls to the floor, making a shattering sound on impact.
“Shit,” Lottie curses and quickly bends down to pick up the pieces. Natalie’s heart thuds in her chest and she shifts from foot to foot.
“Want me to grab the vacuum?” Jackie asks Lottie, tearing her attention away from Natalie for a moment.
“No! It’s fine, I’ve got it!” Lottie calls out from where she’s hidden behind the kitchen counter.
Jackie turns her focus back to Natalie. “Okay, but what shoes?”
“My boots,” Natalie says, obviously, doing her best not to think about Lottie’s wide-eyed, open mouthed stare.
“Mmm, no.” Jackie decides. “You need heels for this. What size are you?”
Natalie’s starting to feel a bit like Jackie’s fucked up barbie doll. “Eight,” she tells her anyway.
“I’m a six, but… Lottie’s an eight.” Natalie swears Jackie’s grin has a devious intent behind it.
Popping up from behind the counter, Lottie’s hair is ruffled and she seems a little out of breath. As she goes to throw away the pieces of shattered wine glass she says, “I think I have some you could wear, Nat.”
“Okay,” Natalie squeaks and tentatively follows Lottie into her bedroom.
Lottie tosses her coat and a leather purse onto a cream colored duvet that covers a large bed in the middle of her bedroom. There are lamps in every corner of the room and Natalie tries not to stare as Lottie pads on the plush rug to an en suite bathroom.
“They’re in my closet just in here,” Lottie says without looking back at Natalie. Thank god, too, because she's probably fucking gaping at all of Lottie's nice stuff.
To get to Lottie’s closet, they pass through the bathroom. And there, cradled in the corner is a large, clawfoot, porcelain tub. It mocks Natalie as she scampers by and into Lottie’s walk-in closet.
“Hmmm,” Lottie taps a finger to her lips and scans a row of heels. “Try these.”
She hands Natalie a pair of simple, black heels and Natalie bends to slip them on. Waiting patiently behind her, Lottie watches Natalie in a mirror leaning against the wall in the corner of her closet.
Standing up straight, Natalie assesses herself with the shoes on and fusses with her bangs. They do look better than her boots would– more mature and put together. Oddly enough, she kind of likes it.
“I didn’t know you were coming over,” Lottie says, making eye contact with Natalie in the mirror. The second glass of wine is really starting to hit Natalie and her reflection looks flushed. Suddenly, she’s dizzy and needs to sit down.
“Jackie didn’t call until a few hours ago, it was a last minute thing.” Natalie explains, sitting down on a round footstool to pull off her heels. “It’s really good of you to let her stay here and everything.” Natalie says, looking up at her.
Waving her off, Lottie shakes her head and bends to sit next to Natalie. Her warmth radiates onto Natalie's bare skin. “Jackie just needs some support right now. It’s hard when the people closest to you don’t like the person you’ve become…” Picking at her nails, Lottie looks down and avoids Natalie’s probing gaze.
“How was dinner with your parents?” Natalie asks, softly, because Lottie has seemed off since she got back and because she truly wants to know. Natalie is dying to find out more about Lottie. Who she is and the little ways she’s changed and stayed the same since she was that lanky teenage girl Natalie used to know.
“They’re a means to an end,” Lottie sighs and gives Natalie a sad smile before changing the subject back to Jackie. “You showing up for Jackie this week has meant a lot to her too, you know. You basically dropped everything the second she called.”
“You and I both know it’s not like I had much else going on,” Natalie says, downplaying it because this has honestly all been kind of nice. A change from her self-imposed solitude of the last few years. Lottie’s shoulder brushes Natalie’s as she turns to face her. The sweater she wears is soft on Natalie’s skin.
“That doesn’t make it mean any less,” Lottie says in a near whisper.
Suddenly, Natalie is acutely aware that if she moves her hand even an inch it will be on Lottie’s thigh. They’re secluded away in this little alcove of Lottie’s apartment and no one can see them, no one can hear them. They are completely and utterly alone and when Natalie looks up, Lottie is leaning in, dipping her head to bring her lips to Natalie’s and kissing her sweetly for just long enough to make Natalie’s head spin.
Lottie pulls away, cautiously looking back and forth between Natalie’s eyes. She bites her lip in concern when Natalie doesn’t say a thing, too astonished to even move.
“Was that okay?” Lottie asks anxiously.
Natalie opens her mouth and a croaked sound comes out, not even a fully formed fucking word, and her face heats with embarrassment.
She clears her throat and breathes, “Yeah.” Her eyes don’t leave Lottie’s. She wants to do that again, like, badly. Lottie’s lips are so pink and they’re right in front of her, and why won’t Natalie’s body move the way she’s telling it to?
“I’ve been thinking a lot about your situation, Nat.” Lottie says, stopping Natalie before her body catches up to her brain and she can kiss her again.
“My… situation?” Natalie asks, confused.
Lottie nods. “Yes. Just– call me when you get home and I can explain.”
Stunned and a little punch drunk from the kiss, Natalie agrees, even though leaving Lottie’s immediate vicinity sounds like the exact opposite of what she wants right now. But whatever Lottie has planned, Natalie is now eagerly anticipating it. She doesn’t want to put any of this off, so she immediately decides it’s time for her to go home. She leaves Lottie in the closet and quickly changes her clothes before saying goodbye to Jackie, who, again, makes her promise to call when she gets home safe. And this time, Natalie emphatically agrees because, let’s face it, she’s dying to hear what Lottie is going to say.
The cab ride home stretches on for what feels like hours, and when Natalie finally gets back to her building she takes the stairs up two at a time, not even feeling the slightest bit winded when she makes it up. Maybe she still has a little bit of stamina left from all of those years of soccer practice after all. She shrugs out of her coat and races to the phone immediately, sitting cross-legged on top of her bed and bouncing a leg while it rings.
“Matthews’ residence, Jackie speaking.” Fucking Jackie, oh my god.
“Jackie, hey it’s Nat. I’m home.” Natalie chatters rapidly.
“Oh great, thanks for–”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome. Can I talk to Lottie?” Her urgency bleeds through phone.
“Sure, just let me– Lottie!” Jackie yells. “Nat wants to talk to you!”
There’s a click and then a silence on the other end of the line before Lottie picks up the phone in her room.
“That was fast.” Lottie says.
A laugh escapes Natalie’s chest and her shoulders sag in relief.
“It felt like forever,” she grumbles. “So… my situation, you were saying?”
“I think I know a way I can help.”
Natalie pauses for a moment before asking, “Just so we’re clear here, what situation do you mean exactly?”
“Oh, sorry,” Lottie giggles. “Your intimacy issues. I think I can help work you through them.”
The thought of Lottie working her through anything sets Nat’s skin on fire.
“Okayyy, how?”
“Well, you’ll have to trust me.” Lottie says.
“I do,” Natalie admits quickly. “Like, kind of implicitly.”
“Good,” Lottie says and Natalie can hear the rustling of something on Lottie’s end of the phone. “Now, if anything feels strange or you want me to stop, just say so. Okay?”
The scientific tone Lottie adapts makes Natalie a little nervous about where she’s going with all of this. I mean, they’ve just fucking kissed and Lottie hasn’t even acknowledged it, and now Natalie’s starting to feel like some sort of fucking science experiment. Is she fucking seeing things?
“Yeah, I can do that, just– Can you tell me why this is happening right now?”
“Because…” Lottie starts and then trails off, letting the silence hang in the air and threaten to slice through Natalie’s patience. “Because I really wanted to kiss you and I think you might need this… And it could be fun.” She says.
“Okay,” she exhales, still not totally sure what Lottie means, but her thoughts are inching towards something that makes her breath pick up. She leans back to rest her head on her pillow and extends her legs out in front of herself, propping the phone up between her shoulder and her ear. “Tell me what we’re gonna do, Lottie.”
“We’re just gonna talk, Nat.” Lottie says and Natalie can hear the grin in her voice. “That’s all.” Lottie leaves it at that for a moment, to let Natalie stew over what it could possibly mean, before she says, “When you touch yourself, is it still hard for you to come?”
Pained, Natalie blinks slowly and says, “Depends.”
“On what?”
“What I’m thinking about."
“What do you normally think about?” Lottie asks, low and husky. It sends a shiver down the back of Natalie’s neck and she flexes her ankles with the feeling.
The first word that pops into her mind is you, even though the idea of masturbating to the thought of Lottie Matthews is very obviously new. But it's like she can't stop thinking about it once she realized she could, it overwhelms whatever she would have been thinking about before. It renders her usual fantasies useless.
Instead Natalie says, “Someone touching me.”
“Where?” Lottie breathes. The phone is so close to Natalie’s ear that it’s almost as if Lottie herself is breathing her whispery voice next to Natalie’s temple. Natalie squeezes her eyes shut and arches her head back into her pillow.
“My tits,” Natalie says, deciding that if they were really going to do this, she'd have to be honest. And it’s true, that is how her fantasies normally start. With some faceless person pulling off her top and massaging her. Except with Lottie’s voice in her ear and talking her through this, that person isn’t faceless anymore. It’s very decidedly, Lottie. And her fingers are so much more precise and her mouth is so much more wet than anything Natalie has imagined before. The thought of it all is fucking killing, Nat.
“With their hands or their mouth?” Lottie asks. If Natalie didn't know better she would think Lottie's voice sounded shaky.
“Both,” Natalie rasps. “Does that make sense?”
“Mhm,” Lottie hums. There’s more rustling sounds and Natalie's distracted by an image of Lottie in the giant bed she saw in her room earlier until Lottie's next words hit her like a blow. “Like sucking them first and then maybe pinching a little?”
Holy shit, Natalie is starting to feel sick with how turned on she is. Tension is winding up into a knot between her legs and she wants to rock her hips against something. Anything. Would it be so bad if she just… didn’t say anything as her hand floated into her underwear? Was that what Lottie intended for their little therapy session? Natalie knows she wouldn’t even be considering this if it weren’t for those two glasses of wine she had earlier. God, she’s so fucked up.
“Yeah, I like that.” She chokes out and she swears she hears Lottie’s breath catch.
“And then?”
“Then I just… imagine my hand is theirs and I… You know.”
“Do you like it inside yourself or…” Lottie trails off because apparently she draws the line at asking Natalie if she fingers herself or rubs her clit, and Natalie feels a twisted need to one up her.
“I mostly just touch my clit,” Natalie says, regaining a modicum of self control with her bluntness.
“Oh,” Lottie nearly sighs. Natalie can hear the sound of her swallowing and then Lottie continues, “And that typically works?”
“I mean it does the trick.” Natalie says. “It’s not like, life changing or anything.”
“You know what I like to do?” Lottie asks, and Natalie’s eyes grow wide. The idea of Lottie touching herself is suddenly the hottest thing Natalie has ever pictured.
“No, but I’d love to know.” Natalie says, fascinated.
“I pick a person and then I put us in a certain situation. Then I imagine all the things leading up to it and the things I do to them. Focusing on our dynamic and the reasons we’re doing it really help me to connect.”
Fuck, Natalie wants her. And this feels like a window– an opening that Lottie is giving her to say something. Lottie is the one that kissed her, after all. And Natalie just froze and stared at her like a fucking idiot.
“Then, I pick you.” Natalie says, rushed and breathless, in a moment of bravery, before she’s too scared to say it.
A broken noise comes from Lottie’s end of the phone and Natalie’s chest is rising and falling fast with anticipation. Lottie coughs and tries to mask the noise before she says, “That works. How do we get there?”
“We’re out with a group of people,” Natalie says, starting off with the most plausible thing she could think of. “You get tired and I offer to walk you home. Because it’s cold out and I’m worried about you.”
Lottie stays quiet, letting Natalie continue the hazy story she’s concocting in her head.
“And it’s so late that you invite me up to watch a movie and sleep in your guest room, and I immediately say yes. Mostly because you’re so earnest I can’t say no, but also because I think you’re so pretty I can’t stop looking at you.”
Lottie laughs softly, and Natalie continues, feeling bold and a little tipsy.
“We try to watch something, but I kiss you before the movie even gets any good. And I’m so nervous that it wasn’t good that I tell you I’ve never kissed a girl before.”
This part is rooted in so much truth that Natalie pauses, blood rushing in her ears and her heart pounding in her chest, while she waits for Lottie– prays that Lottie will say something. She feels a little self conscious that this could bother Lottie and Natalie knows she's giving Lottie the upper hand by telling her. Finally Lottie speaks.
“I’m sure I would tell you that it’s okay, we can go slow.” Lottie says.
“But I don’t want to go slow–” Natalie adds quickly. “I really, really don’t want to go slow.”
“Then tell me what you want, Natalie.” Lottie tells her softly and then corrects herself. “Or, what you would want.”
“I would want to find out what makes you feel good.”
“I could tell you,” Lottie offers.
“No–” Natalie says. “I– I want to touch you and find out for myself. It wouldn’t be too different than touching myself, would it?”
“I guess, it wouldn’t.” Lottie considers.
“Then I would touch you. Try to figure out where and what you like best. I’d touch you like I touch myself, except I would want to know exactly how we’re different. Each little detail. And whatever feels good for you I would keep doing over and over again.”
Natalie is breathing hard and Lottie is quiet on the other end. This is all so terrifyingly intimate and Natalie is ripped open and exposed. She’s laid out all of her cards for Lottie to see and use them however she'd like. Willingly, Natalie gave herself over to Lottie and basically said here I am, do whatever you want with me.
It’s embarrassing and erotic and if Natalie could see Lottie’s face right now, it would be over for her. The only reason this conversation is even possible is because of the distance between them. The safety of hiding behind the telephone line.
“Natalie…” Lottie says, drawing out the sound. Natalie presses the phone to her ear hard, listening intently to every sound she can hear.
“Yeah?” Natalie breathes.
“It’s so late…”
Natalie goes rigid and glances over at the digital clock, glowing red next to her bed. “It’s not even midnight, Lottie.”
“We– We should go to bed.” Lottie stammers, and it’s like someone throws cold water on her. Something in Natalie’s chest flares and then plummets to the bottom of her stomach. She sinks into her pillows.
“Oh, um. Okay.” Natalie says, crestfallen.
“But I will see you in a couple days, okay? At the party.” Lottie tries to keep her voice light, Natalie can tell. But if it’s trying to make her feel better, she’s doing an absolutely shit job.
“Yeah, sure.” Natalie mumbles. Where the fuck did she go wrong? Was this not what Lottie wanted? For a moment there it felt like she was physically pulling all of that out of Natalie, probing and prodding until Natalie showed Lottie all of herself to her.
“Goodnight Nat,” Lottie tries, but Natalie doesn’t say anything back. Just hangs up without preamble, letting Lottie think whatever she wants about this whole thing.
Agitated, Natalie breathes hard and shifts around uncomfortably in her bed after setting the phone face down on her nightstand. She tucks her legs under the quilt and huffs, realizing quickly when she moves that she’s slick between her legs. It’s unsurprising how little self control she has as she slides a hand warily into her underwear to feel just how much damage has been done. And while it’s there she begins to rub, vigorously, for some kind of release. Her hips jerk up against one hand as she clutches one of her breasts with the other, flashes of Lottie’s face bombarding her mind. When it’s over, she doesn’t feel much better. If anything, just tired, exhausted from this entire week.
She doesn’t even move to turn the lamp off before she falls asleep. For a while, her mind races as she stares up at the ceiling fan, rotating in circles again and again. The last thing Natalie sees before her eyelids finally become heavy enough to close are the blurry, glowing lights of the city, leaking into her room from behind the fogged up glass of the window.
Old habits must surely die hard because Natalie doesn’t leave her apartment for the two days leading up to Jackie’s New Year’s Eve party. The phone rings at least ten times in those desolate forty eight hours, and Natalie can’t bring herself to pick up even once, letting it just ring and ring and ring…
It’s not even clear to her what she’s doing in that time either. Just a lot of staring it seems, numbing herself out to the possibility that she’d scared Lottie off. Or maybe that Lottie scared her off. She’s so confused about what happened and why facing Lottie feels like it’s the most impossible thing in the world right now.
Natalie has almost thoroughly convinced herself that Jackie won’t be furious with her if she plays hooky tonight and doesn’t show up to the party when someone, for the first time in a very long time, knocks at her door.
Sweatpants dragging on her floor, Natalie shuffles to the front door and peers through the peephole. Sighing and dejectedly letting her forehead fall to the door she groans, loudly, “Go away, Shauna.”
The knocking grows incessantly as Shauna yells back at her through the door, “I’m not going anywhere until you let me in!”
For a few minutes, Natalie lets her keep knocking, thinking she’ll grow tired or her knuckles will start hurting eventually. But Shauna is fucking relentless and the knocking doesn’t stop, so Natalie relents, opening the door and giving Shauna a look that says, well?
“Why haven’t you been answering Jackie’s calls?” Shauna asks, crossing her arms with her eyes narrow.
“Mm” Natalie shakes her head. “I haven’t been feeling well.”She fakes a weak cough and gives Shauna a glare, challenging her to call Nat’s bluff.
Through with Natalie’s shit, Shauna rolls her eyes. “No you’re fucking not. Now, get your shit together and come on.”
“What? You’re crazy, I’m not going anywhere.” Natalie argues, attempting to block Shauna from barreling past her into the apartment, but failing.
“No, you’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you just sit in this miserable apartment while the party that Jackie has been meticulously planning all week starts in an hour.”
Stunned, Natalie gawks as Shauna storms directly into her bedroom, hunches over and begins rummaging through her drawers.
“How the fuck did you even find out where I lived?” Natalie follows after her, appalled and already hating where this is going.
“I had Tai trace your phone calls with her fancy government connections,” Shauna explains flippantly before standing up straight and turning around to face Nat. “Where’s your dress?”
“The closet— wait. Is that even legal?”
“No clue,” Shauna shrugs, rifling through Natalie’s clothes and pulling out the leather dress. “Now go get in the shower. I’m driving you to Lottie’s in one hour.”
“Driving me? You brought that piece of shit car all the way to New York?”
“How else do you think I go back and forth from Rhode Island so often?” Shauna raises an eyebrow.
Clenching her fists, Natalie groans and stomps off to the bathroom, muttering about how no one on earth brings their own fucking car to New York. Steaming hot water spouts out of the shower head, and Natalie gives herself ten minutes under the water to ruminate about how awfully this could go.
Side by side, Natalie and Shauna stand in the hallway, waiting for Jackie to hear them knocking through the blaring music on the other side of Lottie’s door. And secretly, or maybe not so secretly, Natalie wants this to go well. She’s hopeful that she and Lottie can get past the weirdness of the phone call, just forget it all, and be actual friends.
Over the car ride here and the elevator ride up to the fifteenth floor, Natalie has imagined a very distant and doable friendship for her and Lottie. And in the version of friends that Natalie has dreamt up for them, it doesn’t involve touching herself to the sound of Lottie’s voice over the telephone. It’s one in which they meet up, maybe twice a month, and talk about very neutral topics like their mutual friends and how they’ve all decided to date each other, but not them. Never them. This imaginary universe feels safe to Nat, and in it Jackie is the one that opens the door for her and Shauna. Jackie, not Lottie.
Except, here Lottie stands, in a black dress with a drink in her hand, blocking the doorway and defying all of Nat’s imaginary plans.
“You’re here,” Lottie says, looking straight at Natalie with wide, unmoving eyes.
Natalie opens her mouth to speak, but Shauna beats her to it. “Yeah, sorry– I forgot I told Natalie I would pick her up and traffic was a bitch.” She lies as Lottie steps over to usher them inside.
Natalie gives Lottie a small smile before leaving her and Shauna to set her bag in the guest bedroom. Weaving through throngs of people, Natalie realizes that she hardly knows anyone here. Out of habit, she makes a beeline to the kitchen for a drink.
“Nat! Fucking finally!” Jackie yells, decked out in her gold dress. “Why’d you go all M.I.A? I was so worried you wouldn’t come.”
Her face shows traces of real concern, and for the first time, Natalie feels guilty about letting Jackie’s phone calls go unanswered. She had a real responsibility to this girl, her friend. And Natalie almost fucked it up.
“I know I– I’m so sorry.” She tells Jackie honestly, and Jackie gives her a crooked, yet fond look.
“It’s okay,” she says, taking Natalie by the shoulders and steering her towards the flutes of champagne. “Let’s get you a drink.”
The next couple of hours dissolve into a fizzy haze of champagne and small talk. The alcohol allows her to mingle passably enough not to make a fool of herself, but it doesn’t keep her from glancing over at Lottie every chance she gets. And it could be all the bubbles going to her head, but she swears that Lottie is staring back.
Standing in a circle of people she very obviously does not know, Natalie is hanging onto the fringes of conversation by nodding and taking frequent sips of her fourth glass of champagne. Her attention slips for a moment (okay maybe several moments) and by the time she focuses back on the group she realizes Lottie has inched her way in.
She’s annoyingly charming, and Natalie gapes at her as she animatedly joins into the conversation. Lulled into a trance, Natalie watches as Lottie’s cheeks blush when she laughs and the line between her eyebrows creases when she’s really thinking about something. The strap of her dress overlays the gentle curve of her collarbone, and fuck Natalie is picturing her in the bathtub, yet again.
Before Natalie can snap herself out of it, she vaguely hears Lottie telling the group she’s going to use the restroom. Her voice snags Natalie’s attention and as Lottie is pulling away, she gently takes Nat’s wrist and asks her to go with her. Which is totally normal, girls go to the bathroom with their friends all the time. It’s a known thing.
Dumbly, Natalie trails behind Lottie without protest. It’s time to face the music anyways– get everything out in the open and move forward. Natalie tells herself she’s ready for it as Lottie pulls her through her bedroom, into the bathroom, and locks the door. Her eyes are closed and Natalie is taking a deep breath, steadying herself for whatever comes next when Lottie turns around and grabs her by the waist, pulling Natalie towards her and kissing her hard.
Natalie’s eyes fly open and she comes face to face with the shimmery eyeshadow on Lottie’s eyelids. Shocked, but too pleased to do anything about it, Natalie melts in Lottie’s grasp, letting Lottie’s open mouth coax her own lips to part. A few minutes pass while Lottie kisses her and Natalie runs her hands across any exposed area of Lottie’s skin she can feel before Natalie breaks away, holding Lottie out at arm’s length and saying, “Wait.”
Confused, Lottie knits her eyebrows together but dips her head back down in an attempt to kiss Natalie again. Unswayed, Natalie stiffens her arms, keeping them separated.
“Lottie, wait.” Natalie says again. “What is going on?”
Lottie’s face falls. “Is this not okay?” Her voice trembles.
“No, no, no, it’s okay.” Natalie assures her, smoothing her hair, and Lottie sighs in relief. “I just– After the other night, I thought you freaked out… or I freaked out… or– I don’t know.” Natalie throws her hands up in defeat. “I thought it might have been too intense or something.”
As soon as she says it, Natalie realizes how wrong she had been. Too intense? For Lottie? Lottie is the girl who made them all have funerals for the roadkill they found by the soccer fields. Everything is serious for Lottie.
“Of course not,” Lottie shakes her head. “I just needed a minute to breathe. The things you were saying– it was so much I just had to… do something about it.”
“Will you do something about it now?” Natalie asks, more sure than ever that this is what she wants.
Lottie nods and steps closer to Natalie, bringing a hand to the zipper at the front of Jackie’s leather dress. Slowly, giving Natalie every chance to stop her, she inches the zipper down until it rests right below the band of Natalie’s bra. Natalie stays silent, fascinated with watching Lottie take this whichever way she wants it to go.
Lottie stares at Natalie’s cleavage with a look of desperate hunger before pulling Nat by the waist to the bathtub. Perching on the edge of the tub, Lottie places Natalie between her legs and drops her mouth open, asking, “Would this feel good?”
“Yeah,” Natalie exhales, shaky with want.
Lottie’s lips trace the edge of Natalie’s bra, leaving a wet trail in their wake, but the touch is too light and it frustrates her endlessly. Natalie wants more.
Briefly, Natalie pushes Lottie back and bends to kiss her lips before bringing her arms behind her back.
“I’m gonna…” she unclasps her bra and lets it fall to the ground. Lottie swallows hard and stares. An urge so intense unfurls in Natalie’s stomach that she takes Lottie by the jaw and pulls her mouth towards her breasts. “Will you suck them?” She asks, and Lottie blankly nods.
Lottie’s tongue on her nipple sends a rolling shudder through Natalie’s body. It shocks her, just how good it feels– the flick and curl of Lottie’s mouth. She grips Lottie by the back of the neck and presses her closer, sighing, already dreading the moment this has to end.
Except, it doesn’t. Natalie remembers that she can do this to Lottie, too. And that thought sends a swell of urgency through her. She breaks away from Lottie and starts pushing urgently at the straps of her dress, letting it pool around her waist as she remains sitting on the edge of the tub.
Gaping, the information that Lottie hasn’t been wearing a bra sends Natalie spinning. She drops her head and buries her face in the space between Lottie’s breasts, sucking hard on the skin over her sternum while she uses her hands to lightly pinch Lottie’s nipples.
“God, Natalie,” Lottie groans, gripping Natalie’s shoulders so she doesn’t tip backwards.
For a moment, Natalie pulls back and looks at Lottie, flustered and attempting to catch her breath.
“Lottie, you have to know, I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve never been with a girl. I- I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
Lottie tilts her head, looking at Natalie so fondly that Natalie’s chest aches. “It’s like you said,” Lottie tells her. “It’s like touching yourself.”
Nervously, Natalie is running through all the ways that this could work in this bathroom that they’ve secluded themselves in. There’s nowhere to really lay Lottie down, but she’s looking at Natalie with such attentive, dark eyes that Natalie can’t disappoint her.
Her anxious reeling is interrupted by the sound of people counting down from ten on the other side of the wall, and Natalie realizes that it must be midnight already.
“Ten… nine… eight…”
Natalie freezes and looks to Lottie with wide eyes, “Fuck, should we go out there?”
People are probably wondering where the hell they are. It must have been at least thirty minutes since Lottie told that group of people they were going to the bathroom. At least, no one seemed to be banging down the door to use Lottie’s bathroom or this whole affair would end in one sharp rap.
Lottie glances to the door but shrugs, looking back at Natalie and slowly standing up, letting her dress fall the rest of the way to the tile while the sound of Jackie’s party chants, “Four… three…” Natalie forgets what she's even saying.
By the time Natalie can faintly hear the cheers of people celebrating the new year, Lottie’s mouth is on hers again and she’s pulling Lottie by the waist to sit in the small chair situated in front of Lottie’s vanity. Lottie’s eyes are bright when she realizes what Natalie is doing, and before sitting she shimmies out of her underwear.
Natalie swallows down her apprehension as she gets on her knees behind the chair.
“Wait,” Lottie says before Natalie can figure out what she's doing. Quickly, she pops up and reaches over to grab a fluffy towel, briefly giving Natalie a full view of her ass. It’s suddenly painfully hot in this bathroom. Lottie hands it back to Natalie and says, “For your knees.”
Fighting the urge to cover Lottie’s face in kisses, Natalie blushes and takes the towel, placing it under her knees and feeling a little more confident that this will go well.
Before she even attempts to touch below Lottie’s waist, Natalie decides to stick with what she already knows Lottie likes as she eases herself into this. Sweeping Lottie’s curls to the side, Natalie bends her head to suck on Lottie’s neck, pleased with the way Lottie makes little sighs and squirms. She runs her hands gently over the front of her, dragging her nails up the nip in Lottie’s waist. After she does that, little chills are visible on Lottie’s arms and Natalie gains the confidence to move lower.
Natalie’s first touch is tentative and probably a little bit shaky as she dips her middle finger into the wetness between Lottie’s legs and her mind is racing. She thinks this feels right– very right. And Lottie only proves this further when she outright moans, and Natalie’s forehead falls to Lottie’s shoulder as she dips and circles and swirls her fingers.
Abject curiosity spurs Natalie on, testing different rhythms and speeds until she finds what makes Lottie keen up into her hand and breathe out yes, yes, yes. She makes it a point to learn exactly where to press and drag, and what words Lottie likes to have whispered in her ear. Lottie likes things a little bit faster than Natalie does and she likes when Natalie covers her ear with her mouth.
Low and breathy, Natalie whispers, “Just a little more, Lot. I really want to see you come.” And at that Lottie’s hips jerk up one final time and her hand reaches up to grip the back of Natalie’s neck. Natalie rubs her through everything she has left, and when Lottie’s movements slow she lets her hand fall away.
Utterly fucking dumbfounded, Natalie is wondering how on earth she can make this happen again as Lottie gets up, standing flushed and a little sweaty and glorious before her.
“Can I try now?” Lottie asks with eyes pleading so intensely, Natalie is tempted to think she’s begging.
Unable to do anything that makes herself look even slightly cool or aloof, Natalie nods eagerly. Somehow Lottie finds it attractive because she giggles and drops to the floor.
“Sit please.” She says.
It’s so polite and commanding that Natalie automatically obeys, maintaining a small knot of insecurity that forces her to keep her knees glued together as she does. If she’s felt split open and laid bare by Lottie before, it’s only about to get worse. The apprehension must be written all over her face because Lottie gives her a quizzical look. And it’s that look that makes Natalie so sure that she wants this. It’s Lottie. Sweet, strange, beautiful Lottie. Natalie wants Lottie to break her open, peel her apart, see her messy, gooey insides and tell Natalie everything she thinks about it. It’s overwhelming how much Natalie wants to show her every little piece of herself.
“If you don’t–” Lottie starts.
“No.” Natalie says, firmly. “I really want you to, Lottie. Like so much it’s driving me crazy so please just…”
Lottie puts Natalie out of her misery by dragging her underwear down her legs and pushing apart her knees. Natalie doesn’t even get a second to think about it before Lottie’s mouth is on her. The cool, wet drag of her tongue sends a current running through Natalie so sharply that a whimper escapes her lips.
“Fuck, Lottie.” She rasps and Lottie’s eyes dart up for just a moment.
Somewhat relentless in her methods, Lottie doesn’t give Natalie a second to breathe. She doesn’t rapidly move her tongue in an attempt to get Natalie to come as quickly as possible though. It’s more of a deep coaxing that Natalie can’t seem to escape for even a moment, making her wonder if Lottie is really fucking good at this or if she’s just never been eaten out the right way before. She tries her best not to let herself get carried away and fuck herself on Lottie’s face, but at some point she breaks. Lottie only hums against her and urges Natalie on with her hands on Natalie’s hips. God, this is so much better with a girl. Or maybe it's just so much better with Lottie.
Natalie doesn’t really start to falter until something pulls her out of it for a moment. Lottie has to pull away to catch her breath for just a few seconds and as she does, her head falls back, exposing the column of her throat and her eyes roll slightly back into their sockets. The image is unbearably and undeniably the hottest fucking thing Natalie has ever seen, and when Lottie returns to lapping at her she comes hard.
Her fingers are twisted in Lottie’s hair as she lets Lottie pull her through it, and eventually Natalie releases her hold. Lottie looks up with shining lips and bright, feral eyes– almost black with how large her pupils have become.
“Was it–”
“Good. Really fucking good, Lot.”
Satisfaction relaxes Lottie and she leans back against a cabinet panting, while Nat remains limp in the little chair. She can’t believe she snuck away from Jackie’s party to fuck Lottie Matthews in the bathroom. Fucking hell. Natalie is still processing the gravity of this situation when Lottie gets up and starts the shower.
“Isn’t there still a party going on?” Natalie asks between breaths.
Lottie shakes her head. “Just get in the fucking shower, loser.”
And since she’s sticky and boneless and can’t think straight, Natalie picks the path of least resistance and follows Lottie into the steaming water. It takes way too long for them to get clean now that they know just how to distract each other, and by the time they get out and Lottie has dressed Nat in a ridiculous pair of pajamas, the only stragglers from the party are Jackie and Shauna, snoozing on Lottie’s couch.
Lottie exits her room first, padding across the wood floors sprinkled with gold and silver confetti before waving Nat out into the living room once it’s clear everyone else has left.
Shauna is snoring with her head in Jackie’s lap, party hat askew and smudges of mascara under her eyes, and Jackie’s eyelids droop as she sips on the last dregs of a glass of champagne and pets Shauna’s dark hair. Her eyes widen marginally in surprise when Lottie and Nat tiptoe out, both with damp hair, to say goodnight. She starts to ask where they’ve been, but seems to be too tired to broach the subject and too smart to know that it's a question for another time.
As Natalie follows Lottie back to her room, they pass by dozens of empty glasses and bottles strewn about Lottie’s apartment. Streamers and polaroids litter the counters and forgotten keys hang lonely on the hook by the door. Distantly, Natalie thinks that it’s going to be a bitch to clean all of this up tomorrow. But maybe, she could stick around and help.
Her apartment is lonely anyways.