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Late August. Sunday. 6pm. The sun hung low in the sky, making KJ squint as she tried to relight the end of the joint the girls were sharing.
It was forecasted to rain in Stony Stream for the rest of the week, and as Mac watched her friend struggle with the lighter in the last of the summer heat, her stomach churned with a strange, sinking feeling of finality that sort of made her want to cry.
It was probably the last day of actual summer, but with KJ leaving for New York in less than two weeks, and Tiff going to Massachusetts and Erin at Ohio State, it felt like more than that. The four girls had a goodbye sleepover planned the next week. They didn’t really do sleepovers in the same way that they used to when they were thirteen - movies and pillows and popcorn eventually became crashing on couches at 2am, followed by greasy hangover food the next morning and a roundup of the previous night’s events (Tiff always remembered the other girls’ embarrassing drunken fuckups and would make sure to remind them constantly), but a good old fashioned slumber party felt like a nice nostalgic way to end things. Mac was also planning on saying goodbye to KJ in person the morning she left, and they’d already agreed she’d come visit her, so, as Mac told herself, it wasn’t like this was the end of anything. Not really.
Mac was fine about staying in Stony Stream. Yes, when she was younger she used to dream about turning eighteen and driving far, far away from everyone and everything. But it was fine. One day she would get out. She may not have gotten to go to college, but one day she’d be able to afford a car.
“Aha! Finally managed to light this goddamn thing!”
KJ held the joint to her lips and took a drag, before passing it to Mac.
“My mom’s taking me shopping tomorrow. She keeps talking to me about joining a sorority. I didn’t even know there was Greek life at NYU.”
Mac snickered, spluttering out smoke. “Oh yeah, I can totally see you as a trashy sorority girl, Kaje.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Maybe you’ll get a frat bro boyfriend too - some blond guy called Chad or something.”
“I’d rather die before going out with a guy called Chad,” KJ giggled, leaning back on her palms. The idea of being stereotypically feminine, of dating douchey guys and wearing makeup and dresses and caring about things like sororities and prom and parties, was almost an inside joke between Mac and KJ at this point. One may argue their outlook was pretentious, and it was a bit, but Mac felt free with KJ. Neither of them cared about getting a boyfriend or desperately trying to live up to stupid magazine trends. They were a team, best friends, too wrapped up in their own little world to bother with all that stupid shit.
The idea of KJ actually getting a boyfriend at college made Mac feel kind of nervous and sick for some reason. She usually chalked it up to her fear of being left behind.
“I need to remember to bring some extra bedding for when you come visit. Or we can share my bed I guess, but it might be kinda small for the both of us.” KJ’s fingers brushed against Mac’s as she took the end of the joint. “Although I guess it shouldn’t be a problem for you since you’re kinda small too.”
For a second, Mac imagined waking up with KJ wrapped round her in their tiny dorm room bed. She wondered what it would feel like to bury her nose in her curly hair and breathe in her vanilla shampoo.
She quickly pushed the thought out of her mind.
“Shut up, asshole.” Mac nudged her friend softly. “I’m actually average height by the way. It’s not my fault you’re a six foot hockey freak who needs an extra-large bed.”
“I’m five eight!”
“Same thing.”
KJ rolled her eyes and nudged her back, harder. The weed was making Mac’s mind feel hazy. The air was thick, like glue. Warmth seeped through her skin.
Suddenly they were both laying on their backs. Mac couldn’t tell how much time had passed. She looked at their hands, displayed next to each other in front of them. KJ’s fingernails were extremely neat. Not chewed like hers were, but shapely. Dainty.
Mac turned her head at the soft sound of humming next to her. KJ’s curls were spread out around her head like a halo in the yellow grass. She studied her face, clothed in summer light; the slope of her nose, her angular cheekbones, her lips.
Mac sometimes wondered what it would feel like to kiss KJ. She wondered whether she would taste like vanilla too.
She often felt guilty about wondering things like this. Ever since she was little, before she even thought about any of that stuff, Mac got picked on, by her dad and Dylan and fucking Bryant Gibbs in the fifth grade, for looking and acting the way she did. She knew what the bitches at school were saying about her when they whispered and giggled to each other in the girls locker room while she stared furiously at the floor, cheeks burning red. If everyone thought she was a lesbian, Mac felt like it would somehow be wrong for her to actually be a lesbian. She felt like she was being predatory. It was as if KJ had given her a chance by being her friend, and Mac was betraying that trust by thinking of her in that way.
KJ turned her head towards Mac and smiled warmly. Her eyes were hooded and bloodshot. Mac focused her attention on the gentle buzzing of cicadas in the surrounding trees.
“I’m going to miss you so much Mac.”
Mac swallowed hard. She felt sick again.
“Promise me we’ll still be best friends.”
“Of course. As long as you still wanna hang out with me once you’re with all your cool fancy New York friends,” Mac teased.
KJ rolled her eyes again.
“And as long as Chad’s okay with it.”
This earned her a punch in the arm.
“Seriously though, guys are gonna be all over you over there. Don’t go getting some fucking boyfriend that takes all your time away from me.” Mac meant this as a joke, but it came out sounding more desperate than she intended.
KJ frowned, making her cringe internally. She wasn’t sure why she kept bringing up the boyfriend thing; her and KJ never talked about guys. She supposed that maybe just talking about the idea somehow made everything less weird. Mac didn’t want to come off like a creep.
Or, maybe, she wanted that feeling of hope and validation she got every time KJ grimaced and dismissed the idea. She wanted to hold onto that feeling forever.
“Don’t you know me Mac? You know I don’t care about boys.”
KJ turned her attention to the piece of grass she was pensively fiddling with, looking forlorn. She chewed her lip.
“I think there’s something wrong with me.”
Mac’s eyebrows pricked up.
“What do you mean?”
KJ turned her gaze to meet Mac’s and breathed in gently. There was an unmistakable soft sadness in her eyes.
“I guess… I don’t know. I should like boys, right? I keep waiting for it to happen but I don’t think it ever will. I think I might be broken or something.”
Mac opened her mouth to speak but words didn’t come out. KJ reached out to touch her arm; a featherlight graze that made her want to explode.
The air somehow felt even thicker.
“I wish you were a boy.” KJ smiled sadly at her, lazily drawing circles on her skin. “All the feelings I guess I should be having for guys… I feel like I could genuinely love you like that.”
Mac couldn’t quite tell what KJ meant. She wanted to know how much of this was just the weed talking. She really hoped some of it was real.
“That’s kinda gay, Kaje.”
KJ chuckled.
“What? I think you’d make a handsome boy,” she teased, tapping Mac’s nose.
“Uh.. thanks?”
“You’re so pretty, Mac.” KJ reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind Mac’s ears. She gingerly traced the outline of her cheekbone with her finger. Electric.
The faint hum of the cicadas grew louder. Mac reached up to hold KJ’s hand in her own. All of it - the eye contact and the touching and everything - felt overwhelmingly, unbearably intimate. The atmosphere had a sense of magnetism, like Mac was being pulled towards her by some ineffable force of nature. KJ was a vision of flushed cheeks and kind eyes and curly hair, laying beside her, basking in the summer haze.
Mac softly stroked her hand. KJ was seconds away; brown eyes bearing into her skull, close enough to smell the vanilla. No one would ever understand her like KJ did. It was just the two of them, alone together forever in the vast world of KJ’s backyard, glowing under the last evening sun. It would always be just them; nothing else mattered, and Mac never, ever wanted to let her go.
KJ breathed in deeply, cupping Mac’s cheek. It was like everything was in slow motion as the distance between them closed. Warm brown eyes. Pink cheeks.
And then their lips were touching.
Mac kissed back hungrily, tasting smoke and raspberry chapstick and remnants of spearmint gum. She moved her hand to stroke KJ’s cheek, before running it through her curls fervently. KJ opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, placing her other hand on Mac’s waist.
They laid there kissing for a few minutes, but it felt like longer; lips crashing together again and again like waves rolling onto the beach. KJ sighed into Mac’s mouth as she began to run her hand under her t-shirt and up her spine. Neither of them were experienced, teeth awkwardly knocking together a few times, but Mac knew she was already addicted to this.
KJ was the first to pull away, tenderly stroking the back of Mac’s neck as she pressed their foreheads together.
“Kaje-”
“Come to New York with me.”
KJ’s voice was barely louder than a whisper, as if anything she said was meant for Mac’s ears only. Thoughts of KJ and Mac in the distant future swam through her mind - thoughts of them in their future apartment, cuddled up together under a blanket on the sofa, or drinking coffee in bed; being able to kiss and touch and hold hands without worrying about anyone watching. Mac wouldn’t care what anyone had to say about it as long as KJ was there with her; the two of them against the world.
She pressed her lips against KJ’s forehead. Her skin was warm.
“Okay.”
It may have been the last day of summer, but when the sun finally sunk beneath the brown-tinted trees, Mac smiled with excitement as she pulled KJ in.
The future was looking bright.