Archive of Our Own ^beta

There was warmth and light. Anywhere people gathered, there was always warmth and light.

That was a calming, comforting thought during this time of personal upheaval, time Raine Whispers spent glancing about the unfamiliar Arrivals terminal of this huge foreign airport at far-too-damn-early in the morning, blinking at the concrete walls and columns and people fluorescent-drenched by the line of stale green lights overhead. The decor was strange, the carpeting worn and stained by a multitude of travelers—not at all clean like the small regional airport from a few hours earlier. Unsurprisingly, the flags on display were different, but not everything had changed by crossing the border. 

As always, that commonplace firefly-light of humanity glimmered in the background. People moved in every direction, some arriving, more departing. Love and care and friendship were made manifest in the warm glow shining amidst the crowd; hearts and wrists lit by a brilliant red like fire—like life—as friends and family said farewell, as long-separated lovers embraced in relief; like a garden after a summer’s rain, when the setting sun glittered from every leaf and flower.

Perhaps the Universe had been deeply disappointed by a matchmaking meet-cute gone awry in the distant past, and decided it would be better to be up-front and honest with its intentions. People would find themselves tied together with a red thread of fate— at the wrist for a deep, unshakable companionship and at the heart for a romance indescribably intimate. Not that that was the only answer to be found in life, but it was an answer. People could make it work without their hearts ever shining, and everyone knew at least one story of a pair who met with wrists glowing red only to find their hearts alight years later, because sometimes love takes time to bloom.

The thinning crowd of weary travelers poured from the aerobridge, flowing around a tall black teen standing between the Air Canada gate and the linoleum concourse; dark braided hair pulled into a knot at the back of his head, warm brown eyes watching and waiting for a response to the sign held in both hands. It was ridiculous, all acrylic paint, construction paper, and a double-handful of glitter spelling out Waine Whispers. But it worked. How could it not? Raine could only laugh and try to snatch it away from the taller boy in vain. They clasped hands in greeting before Darius pulled them in for a hug and an affectionate noogie, their left wrists aglow as the best friends were united once more. Raine spluttered in protest as they combed thin fingers through their mint-green hair before they followed Darius toward the baggage claim.

In the years since they met, Raine sometimes wondered why Darius was the one kind of soulmate and not the other, but they found they weren't jealous at all when he went dreamy-eyed over that quiet, scruffy boy at school. They'd truly been happy for him.

Raine turned eighteen the summer they moved in with the Deamonne’s, the summer when everything changed. 

The summer they met her.

~ santa monica

“I know— I know— it’s strange this late in the year, but we have a foreign exchange student joining us today. Would you like to introduce yourself?”

Raine couldn't help but freeze when every eye in the homeroom class turned their way. Stage fright was a spiteful bitch.

Lucky for them, Darius lived for the spotlight. “This is my best friend Raine Whispers, fresh off the plane from Canada,” he threw a muscular arm around their shoulder and nearly jostled their glasses off. “Picked ‘em up th’ other day at the airport, and—”

“Canada?” a voice from the back of the classroom interrupted, and a tall, lanky girl in a letterman’s jacket leaned out into the aisle with a grin, her bright orange hair just shining, shining, shining in the morning sunlight. Raine quite nearly froze again. “Aren’t foreign exchange students from farther away than Canada?!” she called through cupped hands, throwing out a good-natured boooo and a thumbs-down when Ms. D’Angelo groaned aloud.

Darius tipped his head down and grumbled, “She’s always like this, fuhget about her.”

“Just sayin’, we’re gettin’ ripped off here on our cultural exchange, cuz—” 

A red-haired girl in the front row snatched an eraser from the chalk-board tray and the unruly athlete ducked with a shit. “Ignore her, please,” the red-head rolled her eyes, then held out her other hand, “Lilith Clawthorne, class president. Welcome to BHS.” She had a surprisingly firm handshake.

“Thank you,” Raine whispered, then cleared their throat and pressed their glasses up on the bridge of their nose. Focus. Project, fill the room. “M– My family is from Vancouver. My father worked with Mr. Deamonne at Nortel, that’s how I know Darius.” They gestured toward their tall dark-haired friend, and the red gleam at their wrist told the rest of the tale.

“I’m glad you could join us,” the teacher said as she stood, straightening a stack of papers atop her desk. “Find a seat, everyone— Riggins! Sit down.” She glared over the class as they broke into a muted rumble. “I have permission slips for next week’s field trip, pass these back,” She raised her voice to be heard over the din, “If you don't get these signed, you won't go, and you'll have to stay in Principal Faust’s study hall…” 

Raine found an empty seat behind Darius, mumbling brief hellos and how d’ya do’s to the students around them, before they had to turn and pass the extra permission slips to the blonde boy behind them. Since they were already turned around, they snuck a glance at the outspoken girl from earlier.  

The girl with the long orange hair had sprawled back in her seat while she stared out the window, one foot tap-tap-tapping on the floor in impatience. Her hands were shoved in the pockets of her jacket, which was buttoned all the way up to her throat. She looked supremely bored. 

When the bell rang, she was already out the door.

~ hey man, nice shot

It seemed easy enough for Raine to find a comfortable niche at Bonesborough High. Then again, who doesn’t like a soft-spoken, inoffensive classmate with a genuinely kind personality? It was a short list of the usual suspects: the Bullies, the paranoid poli-sci trio on the debate team, and Football Players (natürlich). Thankfully, band kids tend to travel in packs, and drama teens could run interference when an errant musician crossed paths with the Athletics Megafauna. 

The only socially acceptable overlap in the school hierarchy took place on Game Day.

Which is how Raine found themself beside Bonesborough High’s rugby field the evening of their first day of school, right palm stinging from a stream of high-fives given to the Banshees that ran past after halftime, a borrowed Euphonium clutched to their chest. They were playing with the brass band for the varsity women’s rugby match. They’d filled in as a favor for their frantic music teacher, Mr. Newberry; the poor man desperate to replace a student out sick with food poisoning. The BHS Brass uniforms were just like the ones they’d worn back home, which meant the chin-high starched collar was sure to grow uncomfortable long before the game was over. Raine quite liked the experience: the roar of the crowd at a successful play, the athletes crashing into each other during a scrum, and perhaps best of all, nobody in the stadium was really listening to them play. 

She was there, The Girl with the orange hair. Raine had begun to capitalize it in their mind: The Girl. The emphasis felt appropriate, somehow.

The Girl jogged onto the field and the Banshee fans screamed HEARTBREAKER! as she threw her fists in the air. She was stunning. She was strong, and fast, and had an arm like a cannon. Raine nearly forgot how to play while they watched her sprint down the pitch.

She took a hit in the second half, near where the brass band was standing. It was brutal. The offending Gravedigger was a nimble mountain of a girl, easily twice her size. She put her shoulder in the middle of The Girl’s chest and chucked her like a broken doll. Raine was horrified. The women’s rugby team was out for blood and not one classmate had thought to warn them? Really!? No concern at all for Raine’s delicate Canadian constitution. Meanwhile, The Girl folded in thirds and slid to a halt in a muddy heap at Raine’s feet. The other musicians jumped back in surprise and what looked like fear, but Raine knelt down and held out a white-gloved hand. “Are you alright?” they called, over the thundering outrage of the crowd. 

When she reached up with a mud-slick hand to clasp their forearm, Raine curled their fingers around her wrist and pulled. The Girl twisted her legs about and pushed herself up to her knees. She wobbled, then grabbed a fistful of her jersey in one hand, over her chest—over her heart—as she gasped for air. The skin where her wrist touched theirs burned; Raine thought they would be consumed by the heat of her. Golden eyes and orange hair? She was a flame. They were certain their whole body would be reduced to ash by the raging inferno under her fist. They asked again, in case she hadn’t heard them over the pulse pounding in their ears; surely she could hear it too. “Are you alright?”

“She’s gonna pay for that!” The Girl snarled, golden eyes twisted in an animal fury. She scrambled to her feet and threw herself back onto the field. She didn’t bother to make it look like an accident, she made it an example. The Banshees went on to win 27 to 24, and the fans went wild.

Raine stood in front of the mirror that night and thought about the fire in the crowd and the fire in her eyes while they unbuttoned their high-necked band uniform, only to see that same fire shining in their chest.

~ when I come around

Raine paced back and forth across their small attic bedroom, gnawing on an innocent thumbnail. Right now was literally—or was it figuratively?—the worst time for any of this. “Oh, hey Darius, I think that troublemaker in Homeroom is my soulmate. Funny, eh?” Who would say such a thing? Out loud? Absolutely out of the question! They couldn’t just ask Darius about her, they knew how that would go! Raine would never hear the end of it. To make matters worse, they didn't know any of their other classmates nearly well enough to bring up this particular subject. 

They would have to play this by ear. “Perfect pitch, don't fail me now,” Raine whispered a prayer to their muse.

Despite being in the same homeroom, Raine barely caught more than a glimpse of that orange mane across the cafeteria, or heard her distinctive snort-laugh from over the crowd in their locker-filled hallway.

Luckily for them— perhaps?— word had spread about how they knelt beside The Girl to offer their hand, unafraid, during Monday night's game. She had a temper of legend, which must be why they’d become a bit of a student-body celebrity overnight. Everyone seemed to have an opinion about her— which, great, Raine thought, gimmie— but the conflicting accounts left them more confused than ever.

“She killed a drug dealer.”
“I heard she is a drug dealer!”
“Yeah, but only pot.”

“She set fire to the school last year. We got a whole week off.”

“She’s dated everyone at school!”
“Even you?”
“...shut up, Richard.”

“She always breaks up with them first.”
“You heard what they call her, right? How d’ya think she got her nickname?”

“I heard she stole a school bus on a field trip, stranded everyone there.”

“She beats up the bullies and steals their lunch money.”

“She robbed a bank—”
“—Oh? Which one?”
“Mid-town.”
“Oooh, yeah. Mid-town’s rough, you don’t wanna go there.”
“Do you— you don’t know where that is?”
“It’s across the train tracks.”
“How long are you gonna be here, anyway?”

“She never dates anyone, she turns down anyone who asks her out.”
“The last guy who tried got laughed outta the cafeteria.”

They managed to pick up a few scraps of information that weren’t entirely rumor: The Girl was co-captain of the rugby team. She was a junior, like them, but she had been held back one year, no, two years, no, not at all. She skipped school whenever she liked and she was always in detention. She’d been banned from shop class. Twice. After that 4-H stampede, the state’s Department of Agriculture required Vice-Principal Bump to personally accompany her on field trips—whether as a deterrent or a punishment, no one knew for sure, or for whom.

Meanwhile, The Universe was back on its value-brand valentine’s bullshit. As if figuratively throwing their soulmate at their feet wasn't enough, now they were starting to run into The Girl all around school.

She was several people behind Raine, just far enough away that they approached and passed each other three times while the lunch line snaked through the maze of barrier ribbons. Raine could feel the warmth in their wrist, in their chest—dear lord, in their face—every time they neared each other, but she didn’t seem to notice. With her ever-present letterman jacket buttoned up to her throat, The Girl spent all her time in line arguing with Lilith, their red-haired class president. It seemed heated, both girls red-cheeked and hands clenched in frustration. Raine lost sight of her after they got their food and a seat with Darius.

Raine looked down a side hall on their way back to World History, and stopped short at the spectacle on display. The Girl was in the middle of using one Doc Martin’d foot to stuff a much larger bully into a locker, then she slammed it shut with a clang. “—and stay there until you’re ready to apologize!” She yelled into the air vents, and then kicked the door twice for good measure. She bent down and picked something off the ground, dropping it in the lap of a smaller student sitting there against the lockers. She turned, brushing off the palms of her hands, when her golden eyes caught theirs just long enough to send a pink blush racing up their face. She cocked an eyebrow and set one fist on her hip, then smirked. 

Oh god, Raine could feel their cheeks turn red. 

She opened her mouth to say something when the bell rang—shattering their semi-private moment into a thousand voices echoing up and down the halls as classroom doors flew open. Raine gave her a timid smile and began to raise a hand to wave when they were jostled by the milling throng. By the time they pressed their glasses back up on the bridge of their nose, she was gone.

~ come out and play

“Thanks, Mr. Newberry. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Raine called to the man sorting sheet music in front of the tall, arched windows of the Music Room, the freshly-cleaned Euphonium dangling from their fingers in its leather case. 

“Have a good night, Raine,” the bespectacled teacher waved a sheaf of papers over his shoulder. Three slipped loose as Raine stepped out of the classroom and into madness.

The bells began to ring a solid, incessant warning and the fire alarm lights mounted high up on the walls blinked to life. A few moments later, both stopped, the bells falling silent with a sad little dong. The ancient PA system crackled with the equally-ancient voice of the front office secretary: False alarm, everyone, there was an… incident… in the Athletics wing. 

Strange how much venom that sweet, near-sighted old lady behind her forehead-high desk could pack into that single word: Incident.

Raine wouldn't normally stand in the middle of the hallway staring off into space, but with a distraction like this, surely these were not normal times. Does she have a son— err, grandson on the team? they wondered, raking their fingers back through mint-flavored hair. Is that why she sounds so mad? The unexpected sound of running footsteps and raised voices from the hallway junction just ahead did nothing to break them from this truly captivating line of thought. Great-grandson?

“She went that way!”
“Get her!”

An orange blur rounded the corner and knocked them right off their feet, Charlie Brown-style.

They would have bounced their head off the scuffed tile floor were it not for The Blur. Strong arms wrapped around their shoulders mid-fall, and bandaged fingers cradled the back of their skull as the pair hit the ground with an oof and a wheeze, tumbling over once before they slid to a halt with a squeak of bare knees on tile. Raine was pinned to the floor on their back, glasses askew, their hands raised at their chest in a futile effort to ward off danger. They turned a dazed stare upward to meet a pair of wide, golden eyes. The Girl straddled their waist, her fall-tousled hair draped over them both like a curtain of flame, a molten waterfall backlit by the late-afternoon sunlight pouring through the hallway windows. 

“Shit, you okay?” She winced as she pushed herself up on straightened arms, planting her hands on either side of their face, peering down at them in worry.

Raine groaned something unintelligible before they blinked in recognition and gasped, a deep crimson glittering at their wrist and crawling up their face.

Her eyes darted around their face once more before she noticed their wrist, and she tilted her head in surprise. For some reason, a tendon in her jaw tightened. Raine glanced away from her unreadable expression to see a fierce red glow shining from her own pale wrist, which drew her attention a moment later, followed by a soft, “Huh.” Her eyes narrowed as she examined the slender musician stretched out beneath her in a new light.

Angry voices sounded from the corner once more, closer this time. “Why’s she so fast!” “You’re gonna pay for that, bitch!” 

The Girl gave a disappointed pout and patted Raine on the shoulder, “I gotta go…” she sighed. The Girl sat up straight and adjusted their collar with both hands, playfully brushing at the wrinkles in their striped rugby-style shirt as she smiled down at awestruck green eyes. 

The sight hit Raine like a second orange-haired truck. 

“See ya ‘round,” The Girl winked.

Three enormous football players pounded around the corner and ran past Raine, who was still laid out flat in the middle of the hallway. They blinked up at the ceiling, laying there motionless, until finally they moved their hands up to clutch at their collar where her hands had just been. Gently, reverently, in something like a prayer.

~ cumbersome

Raine unlocked their borrowed Mongoose and started the walk back to the Deamonne’s home, alone. Darius had an eighth-hour study group, and it was too nice a day outside to spend the afternoon cooped up in the library. Besides, maybe the greenery would help keep their mind off those golden eyes and that curtain of orange hair, and the red glow at her—

“D’ya still have it?”

Raine glanced to their right. The Girl was walking along beside them as if she’d been there the whole time. 

Raine might have jumped. They definitely didn’t shriek.

The Girl gave them a wide, split-lip grin and chuckled. 

Raine sent a glare her way then did a double-take. Her hair was disheveled, her t-shirt collar ripped, and her jacket looked to have been hastily buttoned wrong—two snaps free on one side, and three on the other. One eye looked red and swollen, and she had blood smeared across her cheek, from both her lip and her nose. She was also smiling, smiling, smiling, a wide, pleased-with-herself sigh on her lips before she cracked the bloodied knuckles of one hand against her jaw. 

One of her canine teeth fell out.

Raine actually clapped one hand to their face as they yelped, “Oh my god!” Who knew they were the type of person to react like that? What an uncomfortable truth to discover.

“What? Oh,” The Girl frowned down at her chest, and plucked the tooth free from where it had snagged on her jacket. “It's fine, I’ll get a gold one when I'm famous.”

“Are you okay?” Raine gasped. 

She puffed out her chest in satisfaction and arched an eyebrow. “You should see the other guys!” The Girl laughed, still grinning, ending in a snort and a sigh. She glanced sideways at the pastel-haired musician walking in silence, then tch’d softly and shrugged, “Yeah, I’m— I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you look—” Raine hmm’d to keep their treasonous mouth from agreeing with her aloud.

The Girl shook her shoulders loose, pushed her sleeves up to her elbows to bare her forearms—like a bird of prey baring her talons—then jammed her fists into her jacket pockets. She slouched along beside them, matching their pace, two sets of tennis shoes patting against the cement, the bike’s chain tick-tick-ticking as its wheels turned. Shade-dappled sunbeams turned her hair into a bonfire. She spat a bloody gobbet into the grass beside the sidewalk, then shot them a sly grin and asked again, “D’ya still have it?”

“Have what?” Raine scrunched their face in confusion.

“I stuck it in your pocket when I knocked you down,” The Girl stretched out a hand, beckoning, “Which— sorry, I hope I didn’t hurt’cha.”

Raine half-turned to face her when she reached for them, and had just enough time to ask, “You put what—?” before she snaked slender fingers into the breast pocket of their long-sleeved shirt and tugged out a flash of silver on a bright red cord. Raine felt their chest grow impossibly warm at her momentary touch. They felt heat rush to their face, and were sure their cheeks were glowing just as bright as their heart. How could she be so calm right now? Raine surreptitiously wiped a sweaty palm on the leg of their cargo pants, unable to ignore the soulmarks burning in their chest and wrist from merely being in her presence. 

The Girl looked quite pleased with herself as she held up the Lucky Whistle she’d stolen from the football coach’s office. They both watched the silver bauble dangle from her pale fingers, then Raine noticed the glow at her own wrist. 

The Girl saw their green eyes dart from her wrist to her face and back again. “Look—” She sighed, drawing a silver circle in the air with a snap of her wrist to catch the whistle in her hand, “You’re probably pretty cool— I mean— you’re bee-eff-effs with Darius.” She paused long enough to shove her hand in her pockets once more, then shrugged, “And he's cool— but, like— no offense— I think soulmates are a bunch o’ bullshit.” 

Raine blinked.

The Girl waggled a hand, like, sorta. “In general. The idea of soulmates.” She snorted and shook her head, holding up four fingers, “Six billion people on this planet, but there's only one person out there meant for me who I'm destined to meet no matter what?” 

As she continued, Raine felt the warmth in their heart begin to ache, beat by beat. They’d never thought they’d find their soulmate and be rejected.

They studied the taller girl’s profile while she railed against the injustices of a shitty system designed to enforce an unwanted Hallmark-style girl-meets-world meet-cute mentality on an uncaring late-stage capitalistic society. If she stayed home and did nothing with her life, would the universe make her soulmate deliver pizzas for a living? What did the universe care about agency? What about free will? Why should she rely on some fickle universe to show her her destiny? 

But the longer she ranted, the more Raine began to doubt the sincerity of her beliefs. They thought they could catch a glimpse of what lay beneath: a deep hurt shaped from a desperate unhappiness and longing. 

The Girl sneered at the placid suburban world spread out before them and shook her head, “Like the universe knows me better than I know me?” She scoffed, then, and swiped a knuckle under her nose, dragging a crimson streak across her cheekbone, unawares.  She raised an eyebrow when she glanced at Raine, like a challenge, “Nah.”

She was brash and bold, she was impulsive, she was unapologetically alive. When she gave them that carefully guarded, cooly calculating side-eye afterwards? They were almost certain. She wanted to be loved, not to just be a soulmate. Should they show they understood by following her example? Yes. Time to be brash and bold. 

“You are a riot,” Raine tipped their head back and laughed. “D’ya practice that in the mirror every morning?” They rolled their eyes and sighed, pulling a high-pitched English accent, “Methinks she doth protest too much.”

Her mouth fell open in surprise. “Oh— oh, ho ho,” The Girl snort-laughed in disbelief, “Did I— ha!” She stopped dead in her tracks just grinning, grinning, grinning while Raine and their bike traveled another two steps before they came to a halt. She gave them an appraising look before sauntering close, one step, two. “I think we are gonna be friends,” The Girl promised with a rather self-satisfied tilt to her jaw. She held out a hand, a lantern below her palm, “Eda Clawthorne, pleased ta’ mee’cha.”

Eda. The Girl was Eda.

~ heart-shaped box

Eda “The Girl” Clawthorne wasn’t just a jock with a heart of gold, she was also a damn fine musician. Raine could have felt intimidated by what they stumbled across in the Music Room that last week of school, but they went with enamoured instead. The Fine Arts wing had been largely empty during the run-up to Finals, and the Junior Class had been busier than ever filling in around the school for all the out-of-town Seniors. Raine had sought out the peace and quiet to be found within the forest of metal sheet music stands, the gentle arc of chairs flowing up the ensemble riser like a wave. 

They slipped through the heavy wooden door and turned at the soft sound of music.

Eda sat in a sunbeam, ankles crossed around one leg of her chair as she curled over an acoustic guitar, a warm chord hanging in the air overhead. Green eyes met gold, and after a lingering pause, her fingers began a delicate dance across the strings. She stepped down a handful of keys in a slow, loping progression, settling into a melancholy G minor.

“O–Oh, sorry, eh?” Raine chuckled as they ran a hand back through their hair, “I can go, if you—?”

Eda shook her head, still playing, still watching them fidget in the doorway. She grinned then, and popped her eyebrows like she just had an idea. She looked down at her guitar and picked her way through a mournful arrangement of a lingering Top 40 song. Raine recognized it within three notes. She plucked at the metal strings, pulling a melody line out amid the buzz and thrum of the backing chords. Eda bent the notes going into the chorus and grinned up at Raine when they snorted, “Show-off.”

“Says you,” The Girl shot back, then nodded her jaw at a nearby chair, adding, “Stay a while, why don’cha.”

When would there be a better time? Raine tapped their fingertips against their leg in thought for a pair of heartbeats, then they turned to the wall of instruments behind the teacher’s desk. When they sat down, they cradled a chocolate-brown Taylor six-string in their lap. Eda pulled an incredulous face, like, Oh, really? In my church? but continued to work her way through the second verse. Raine settled on the chair, tapping their foot in-tempo as they listened, holding their guitar at the ready. When the time was right, they dove in.

The hour passed in a blur. Making music with Eda was like dancing— they both already knew the steps and only had to learn each other. Where she led, they followed; when they took the lead, she fell into an easy harmony. In a word, it was magic.

It felt right. That only made sense, what with the soulmarks in their wrists burning red, steel strings gleaming under the warm light. Raine still couldn't see a hint of light under her collarbone, not like the small flame still hiding in theirs— but that was okay. It was, it was okay. That's what they told themself, at least. So what if her chest didn’t glow? Raine would follow her anywhere.

This could be enough.

~ steal my sunshine

With summer break came freedom from school, and the freedom to find a part-time job. Mrs. Deamonne—bless her heart—had reminded them twice now that they really didn’t have to find a job if they didn’t want to. Raine appreciated that, they really did. Both of Darius’ parents were wonderful people, truly generous folks. They were willing to take Raine in for however long it took for their parents to sell their house and get their papers sorted; not many people would be willing to open their home to their son's childhood pen-pal for an unknown length of time. That made Raine all the more determined to find a summer job, in order to help ease any burdens they might cause.

Their parents would make them find a job anyway, once they were all moved in. They might as well make some spending money now while they were under minimal parental supervision.

Eda was absolutely no help at all; she merely warned them against becoming an unwashed cog in the capitalist nightmare machine— but her sleep-deprived sister looked up from her summer-school textbook long enough to let them know her manager was looking to hire. That very afternoon, Raine filled out paperwork in the local Boston Market and shook hands over $5.25 an hour. One blue hat, polo shirt, and apron later, they were struggling to pour a fifty-pound bag of cornbread batter into a four-foot-tall mixing bowl. 

Eda laughed and laughed when she stopped in to annoy Lilith and catch a peek at Raine in-uniform. But she did stop by, so that was nice.

And yeah, it was menial customer service work for a dime above minimum wage. They had to deal with impatient customers during the chaotic dinner rush, and mop the floors or clean the bathrooms during their slow times, but the free food helped make it all worthwhile— seventeen-year-olds can’t be too choosy after all.

Besides, who knew garlic butter was a thing? “I’m going to get so fat,” Raine muttered under their breath at least twice a shift.

~ only wanna be with you

Darius would stop by the Boston Market every few days around lunchtime, both to hang out with Raine and eat some free food. Their manager didn’t mind them taking their break when their housemate stopped in, which was extraordinarily kind of the ancient thirty-five-year-old woman. Some evenings he’d swing by with Alador and grab a couple sandwiches to go and drop a Whatupdoe! on his way out the door.

Raine was glad they were working until close those nights.

They spent the days they didn’t work with Eda. “You need’ta know your way around, and no one—” the orange-haired girl gestured in a wide, sweeping motion, which nearly knocked over their milkshakes, “—knows their way around town like me.” She jabbed a thumb into her chest and grinned. 

Eda was always wearing her pager. Raine could send her the phone number for the location where they wanted to meet up, and fifteen minutes later she would coast into the parking lot on her tan-and-brown bicycle.

Raine and Eda would bike to the mall and blow a pocket full of tokens in the arcade. They’d walk the entire length and breadth of the massive two-story Y-shaped building, starting at Wetzel’s Pretzels and ending at Auntie Anne’s for a giant cookie. They’d pick out clothes in JCPenny’s to do a changing-room fashion-shoot with disposable cameras, they’d browse the earrings and necklaces at Claires, they’d see how many shoes they could try on before the Footlocker clerks would ask them to leave.

When the weather was nice, they’d go to Three Rivers Park and throw bread to the ducks and each other in the creek. When the summer heat grew unbearable, they’d buy four-dollar tickets to a 10AM matinee and hide from the swollen yellow sun in an ice-cold theater. If they were lucky, they’d sneak into another screening and stay indoors until dinnertime. If they weren’t, they’d figure out something else to do after their eyes adjusted to the blinding afternoon sunlight.

Raine would talk to their parents on the phone at least once a week, and each time they’d have a half-dozen new “Eda” stories to tell. Perhaps they were sick of hearing about her, but Raine didn’t care. The wheels of bureaucracy moved ever-slow; it would be months yet before they could officially move to Bonesborough. They were happy to hear Raine had already found a group of friends. 

Life was good. No… Life was great. 

~ wish you were here

Raine was slowly beginning to see through the laissez faire facade that Eda put on for everyone else. She had to go, to move. She hated to sit still and waste time doing nothing. Lily thought that's why just the threat of Saturday detention helped rein in Eda's destructive tendencies— which is why that one evening in July stuck out in Raine's memory. 

Eda had been strangely tired all day, and she fell into a pensive, brooding silence while they watched the fireflies flit between the willow trees. The setting sun traced long, golden brushstrokes across the ankle-deep grass, and a cool breeze chased the evening humidity away. Raine sat beside her in a companionable quiet, braiding the long blades into chains until she spoke in a soft, troubled voice. 

“What do you wanna be when you grow up?”

Raine wasn’t sure they liked the subtle emphasis she put on that second ‘you’, but when they turned a worried, questioning look her way, she changed the subject.

~ just a girl

Eda’s dangerously competitive side made an appearance every time they went to Pirate’s Point. It was really quite unfortunate—for everyone else—how the putt-putt golf ‘emporium’ had the cheapest-priced pizza in town.

No matter the weather, Eda wore her letterman’s jacket. The evening was breezy and warm so it was only half-buttoned, and she had the sleeves pushed up past her elbows. She planted herself at the tee, knees bent, twisting at the hips as she pantomimed a full-swing with her putter. “Just you watch, Rainestorm,” Eda pointed one arm toward the flag and squinted down the crooked length of her borrowed golf club, confident, “This’ll be a hole in one.”

“This is Clown-Head,” Raine scoffed as they motioned toward the plastic grotesquery looming over the green with its leering eyes and gaping, flat-toothed maw. It giggled. “Pirate Pete said no one gets a hole-in-one.” If they couldn’t believe a middle-aged man who was paid to dress like a pirate, who could they trust?

That very same man yelled Ahoy, mateys! to newcomers through a megaphone, down at the gangway leading up to the ticket booth.

The Girl with the orange mane squared up to the tee, her red ball sitting snug in a divot worn into the plastic astroturf. Eda swung her putter back, up over her shoulder in a perfect long-drive stance, pausing to glance between her ball and the course one last time, then—

“Oh my god, is that her?!” An obnoxious, nasally voice pierced the bubble of their friendly game, “It is!”

A second equally-irritating voice answered after a pop! of bubblegum, “Oh my gaawwd, it’s the Queen.”

Eda slumped her shoulders, then tipped her head back with a groan while Raine turned toward their audience. Two girls in Latissa High t-shirts and denim short-shorts stood there, waiting for their turn at the eighth hole. A pair of tall, muscular boys in football jerseys lurked behind them, peering over their sunglasses at another group of highschool girls down at the Castle Rock green. One of them wolf-whistled. 

“Oh hey, Prudy,” Eda shot back with a scowl, “I thought you got shipped off to boarding school.”

“Bitch,” Plausibly-Prudy hissed.
“Skank,” Eda gave her a saintly smile.
“Sllllut,” the second girl hit the ‘t’ sound with a little extra pepper, then laughed and began open-mouth-chewing her gum.

“Speaking of,” Eda zeroed in on the second girl, “You get that oozy rash treated yet, Brittney?” She waved a hand toward the leering meatheads in the background, and snarked, “Or were ya gonna share it with your bestie’s boy-toy first?”

Both girls gasped, but the first’s face darkened as Eda’s comment struck home. She tried to shake it off with a mocking laugh. “How’s life, Heartbreaker?” Probably-Prudy sneered, before flipping her bottle-blonde hair back over her shoulder. 

The second broke out in a witchy cackle as she crossed her arms, “Yeah, break any hearts lately?”

“Your mom’s,” Eda brushed her fingernails off on her jacket as her voice dripped honey-sweet venom, “and your dad’s. Sorry ‘bout the divorce.” The second girl turned an alarming shade of purple. Eda glanced side-long at Raine when they hissed Eda, and made a face, like, what are you doing.

That caught the first girl’s attention. “Who is this,” she crooned, batting her eyes at Raine.

They gulped, “Uh, hi, I– I’m— nobody.”

“Ohhh, that can’t be true,” Presumably-Prudy stalked toward Raine in a slow, sultry sway, peering them up and down with a hungry gleam in her eye. She leaned to one side to arch an eyebrow at Eda, “Is this your next victim?”

Eda grit her teeth. She might have growled.

Raine glanced between the mean girls and Eda; they had a bad feeling about this.

“He’s so cute,” Potentially-Prudy pouted, reaching up to brush a thumb along the edge of Raine’s jaw. She gave a sharp, unsettling grin when they backed away from her touch. 

“Yeah,” the other girl took a step up beside the first, smiling, reaching for their sleeve, “It’d be a shame to break his—”

Eda pushed between Raine and the other girls and snarled, “Leave them alone!” 

Raine had never seen her this angry before— except, perhaps, that very first night on the Rugby field. Her eyes were on fire, her hands clenched in trembling fists; she was heaving air through bared teeth, like a billows for the forge-flame burning in her chest. The sight of her soulmark shining so bright while her face twisted in rage brought out a complicated set of feelings that Raine would have to unpack later. Right now, they—

“I said back off!” The Girl with the orange hair lunged forward, arms raised and ready to shove Perhaps-Prudy right off her feet. 

“Hey, whoa, whoa,” Raine dropped their putter to catch Eda under the armpits, barely holding her back from the other girls. She snarled and kicked, clawing at the air, her wrist and chest blazing a furious red light. “Eda, stop!”

“Oh my god!” 
“Hey, watch it!”

“C’mon, we gotta—”

“Hey!” Every head at the Point turned toward the Pirate with the megaphone, “No fighting!”

Presumptively-Prudy pointed a shaking finger, yelling, “She started it!”

“She has crabs!” Eda bellowed.

A thick, uneasy silence fell across the crowd while every eye turned to rest on the girl from Latissa. She shrieked in outrage, “I do not!”

~ hemorrhage

“Eda, what was that?”

She stomped down the winding sidewalk through the park in an angry silence, aside from her breathing. 

“Eda.”

“She had no right t’ put her hands on you!” Eda snarled, her eyes flashing like fire. “You were not okay, I could tell! I had’ta do something—”

“Eda, that's—” That made Raine almost miss a step. They were touched; they had frozen in the face of unwanted attention—an absolute stranger touching their face? No thank you—and Eda stood up for them. Protected them. A fresh warmth pooled in their chest at the consideration behind her display— although— No, don’t you get giddy about that. Fighting is still bad, Raine, don’t forget. “Thank you,” they said instead, “but…”

She was still panting for air, sucking lungfuls of the cool evening breeze through clenched teeth and snarling lips. Her face was flushed and red, shining red from the soulmark still burning, burning, burning under her throat. She glanced their way and caught how their worried eyes were drawn to the light below her collarbone, then she crossed her arms over her chest to hide her heart inside her jacket. “It’s not what you think!” Her voice was high and tight. Pained.

“Then what is it?” They wondered aloud, on accident.

“—Just!” She raised both hands up by her face and took a deep breath, “Drop it, Raine—” her voice broke when their name crossed her lips, “I— I just—”

“Eda,” They pitched their own voice low, soothing, “I’m sorry, It’s— whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“I’m fine!” Eda seethed.
“You don’t seem f—”
“I said drop it.” She sounded like she was about to cry.

“Eda, what—”

“Y’know what?” She wheeled about, arms spread wide before she let them fall to slap her palms against her legs. “I’m gonna go.”

“Wait, I’m sorry, Eda, I just— I’m worried, you’re not acting—”

Eda shook her head, her jaw set in stone. “Nope.” She turned the other way and leaned forward to rest her hands on her knees, wheezing for air. “I’m… I– I’m gonna… gonna go home.” She wobbled and clutched at her chest.

“I— What?” Raine watched her blink twice and hiss. “Wait, I’ll walk you home.”

She glared over her shoulder, “I said no, Raine.” She clenched her eyes shut for a moment and swayed on her feet before standing up straight, her hands balled into fists.

Raine looked up at her in concern. Her face had turned a ghastly white and her eyes were glazed and unfocused. “Is it asthma?” they asked, taking a step closer to her, a hand outstretched in worry. “Do you have an inhaler?”

“Go,” She growled as she gave her head a savage shake, “away.”

Raine stopped dead, stunned, their hand nearly touching her shoulder.

“I’m…” Eda sucked in a thin, reedy breath, “going now.” She staggered three whole steps, then collapsed in a bush.

“Oh my god!” Raine ran to her side, “Eda!” 

They managed to pull her out of the shrubbery, but good lord, she weighed more than she looked. Raine pulled her head and shoulders into their lap and brushed the leaf-specked orange hair away from her face. Her eyes were half-open, but she didn’t even blink when they leaned down to listen for the thin whistle of air in and out through her teeth. She’s still breathing, Raine carefully wrapped their trembling hands around her and hugged her close. I need to get help. That thought had been bouncing through their head for a minute, but it finally stuck. They reached into their cargo shorts pocket and pulled out a handful of change: two quarters, three dimes, and— pennies and nickels were useless. Why bother counting them? Two quarters, who should I— Lily’s pager? No, she’s at work. Their house? Darius? 

Raine shook their head and put a hand to Eda’s jaw, to feel her weak, thready pulse fluttering beneath their fingertips; they couldn't wait. “I gotta go find a payphone, Eda.” They craned their neck from side to side, trying to see the edge of the darkened city park from where they knelt. “I think there’s one by Commons,” they looked down at her face again, hoping to see some recognition in her vacant eyes. “I’ll— I’ll be right back, okay?” Raine started to stand, to slide her gently onto the grass. Her fingers snagged on their shirt sleeve as they set her down. “I’ll be back, I promise.” 

They ran for the closest intersection.

It was a warm summer night, but Raine felt cold, like ice, like the pilot light had gone out in their chest. They felt numb as they stumbled over cracks in the cement with wooden feet, jelly-kneed legs carrying them to the payphone mounted on a pole by the bus stop. They fumbled a quarter into the machine, which happily swallowed the coin until they dialed 9-1-1. Once the handset started ringing in their ear, they felt a rattling under their fingertips, and their quarter dropped into the coin release. They pulled it out and stared at it, as if there was nothing more interesting in the world.

As if their best friend— their soulmate— wasn't lying in the grass turning cold.

They couldn’t concentrate on whatever questions the 911 Operator asked. They must have given some kind of answer, some set of information that would get help sent their way. They'd surely been gone too long— they whispered a hoarse I should be there with her before they ran back to Eda’s side, the handset dangling from the payphone. All they could do was hold her hand while her skin turned gray. She was fighting for air. Raine wasn’t sure how long it took the ambulance to get to the park, but they put two fingers in their mouth and whistled a shrill, sharp note to bring them running.

They held her hand as the paramedics wheeled her to the ambulance. She was awake now, glassy eyed, an oxygen mask strapped to her face. She mouthed something. Raine leaned close to listen.

“Game… on Fri… Friday.” Eda gasped every word, nearly hidden beneath the droning hiss of machinery. “You’ll… cheer… for me… right?”

“Of course,” they promised, squeezing her hand with each word. “Of course I will.”

Raine watched the ambulance drive away in a flurry of red and white lights flashing in the dark.

~ the background

One week without Eda turned into two, then three, then a month and a half. The halcyon summer days lost their endless glow. Eda's wild, spontaneous energy made the time pass by in a blink— but now each day crept along at a glacial pace. 

Raine still didn't know what happened to her, and not for lack of trying. The receptionists at the hospital information desk wouldn’t tell them which room she was in, and the nurses in the cardiac wing wouldn’t let them into the ward. They would just give them a sad, “She isn’t ready for visitors,” or send them on their way with an irritatingly vague, “She needs her rest.” They thought about slipping through the double-doors when someone else walked out, but decided not to chance it. A trespassing charge would cause trouble their parents didn’t need.

“Can you tell her I stopped by?” Raine would ask every time.

“Of course,” the nurses would always say.

Eda never called. Lily had been a zombie at work, from pulling double shifts most days and taking two summer school courses— she’d actually been confused when Raine asked if she had news about Eda. Perhaps that’s just how things are with sisters. They’d been debating whether or not to talk to her parents again, but her dad was downright intimidating and her mom was insufferably optimistic. She’ll be home tomorrow, right as rain, you’ll see, but ‘tomorrow’ had come and gone weeks ago.

And so, they waited.

The time without her wasn’t completely awful. They were able to spend more time with Darius, now that they weren’t roaming the streets with Eda every spare hour of the day. Raine took comfort in their friend’s familiar presence. But as the saying goes, misery loves company. Nearly two months to the day that she collapsed, Raine trudged up the narrow attic staircase after a long day at work to find Darius waiting for them in their room, sitting in the open window, one foot inside and the other resting on the dark-shingled roof as he watched the stars. Raine knew what had happened just from looking at him. Darius had to try three times before he could force the words through the lump in his throat, “He broke up with me.” They crossed the room and wrapped their arms around him, and let the taller boy cry on their shoulder.

“I guess… I thought we were gonna be together forever.” 

Raine leaned back on one elbow as they watched Darius stare up at the night sky. A thousand jewels hung in the black, glittering in the tear tracks that traced the tall boy’s cheekbones. “I’m sorry,” Raine whispered, just as soft, “I know you loved him.”

“Loved?” Darius gave a snort of derision, louder now, “Still do.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Waine.” Darius waved a dismissive hand, brushing aside Raine’s muttered duh with a pained smile, “He picked her over me, simple as. It just… Life sucks.”

“And then you die?” Raine couldn’t help themself.

Despite everything, Darius barked a laugh, “Yeah, life sucks and then ya die.” They both watched dark brushstroke clouds drift across the darker sky in a warm silence, their small square of residential rooftop bathed in the soft, crimson glow from the marks at their wrists. Darius sniffed and sighed, then swiped his knuckles across his eyes before he gave Raine a curious glance. “You doin’ okay?” He asked.

Raine blinked in surprise. “Huh?”

“I know you’ve been hurtin’ too,” Darius pulled one leg up to his chest and leaned his chin on his knee. “Your soulmate didn’t break up with you, but I’ve never seen her sick this long before.”

Raine opened their mouth to protest, to deny, to something, but all that came out was a squeak. Their heart helpfully rerouted their bloodstream directly to their face.

Darius rolled his eyes, “What, you think I didn't know?”

“I– I– uh, no,” Raine floundered in the spotlight, “I—”

“C’mon dude, I've known you for years,” the taller boy pinched his face like he was offended, “Why didn't you tell me?”

That question made Raine pull up short. Why didn't they tell Darius? Was it because they didn't want to be teased? Was it because she hadn't asked them out—and God only knows when they'd work up the nerve—so why define some unlabeled thing? They weren't embarrassed of her, they'd told their parents all about her. Was it because living under the same roof as Darius made them want to keep at least one thing to themself? Had they… had they just not mentioned it because Darius had been off with Alador half the time, and they felt left out? Were they really that petty? Time to face the music.

“I… I don’t know,” Raine swallowed and shrugged, “I really don’t. I’m sorry, I should have.”

“‘S fine,” Darius waved off their apology.

“I guess I was…” Raine paused while they searched for the right phrase to capture the feeling of those golden days. “Too… wrapped up in… spending time with her?” That would have to do.

Darius nodded in understanding, “Yeah, I get that.”

“I’m sorry,” Raine offered again, but with more meaning this time.

The dark-haired boy held out a fist, “Naw, I’m happy for you.”

“Right, well…” Raine raked a hand back through soft-hued hair before returning the fist-bump, “Thanks.” They sat in silence long enough for Raine’s embarrassment to drain from their face. 

Then Darius asked, “They still won’t let you in t’ see her?”

Raine just shook their head.

“That shit sucks.” He always was one to state the obvious, but sometimes he could surprise you. “I think you’d know if something bad happened to her.” 

Raine examined him with no small amount of curiosity before they asked, “What do you mean?”

“You’d feel it,” Darius tapped at his chest, over his heart, “Right here.”

Raine made a face, like, c’mon.

“Friggin’ soulmates exist and that’s where you draw the line?” Darius had to laugh at the scowl he pulled from his best friend. He gave them a playful nudge with his elbow, asking, “What does your heart tell you?” in a mockingly saccharine voice.

Raine couldn’t be sure, and it took them more than a few minutes to be able to admit as much out loud.

~ good

Taking out the trash was the worst part of the job. Not even dealing with a rush of hangry customers could compare to the lingering stench of warm garbage that would cling to skin and clothing. Raine had learned the hard way not to dump too many of the dining room garbage cans into the same hundred-litre bag. 

They’d had to get hosed off.

Raine lost the coin toss that evening, so they dutifully swept the dining room, bussed the tables, and began consolidating the garbage into the large black industrial bags. Once the dining area was clear, they pulled the trash from the meat carving station—heavy with chicken bones and tinfoil—then the wide back-kitchen cans that were stacked full of plastic food packaging and potato peels. Raine tried not to breathe in while they tied the bags and heaved them out of the waist-high garbage cans. The bags slid easily across the wet tile floor as Raine lined them up in the back hallway. Once they propped the heavy fire door open with a brick, Raine paused to wipe their hands on their apron and take a deep breath of the fresh outside air.

The sun was beginning to set as it poured a rich, golden warmth across the Boston Market parking lot and the small strip mall set back beyond the concrete dumpster corral. Pink-flowered trees lined the nearby sidewalk, shifting in the breeze, splintering the evening sun into a million points of light that danced across the blacktop. Raine sighed after a peaceful moment, then resumed their disgusting task.

They threw the tall dumpster lid open, then made a quick retreat to escape the billowing cloud of warm, fetid air.

It had rained earlier in the week, but the night was warm and dry, with none of the lingering humidity that made it so miserable days before. The sunlight warmed their arms, their chest, their face, chasing away the artificial chill of the restaurant’s air conditioning. They rubbed at their chest and sighed. They hadn’t felt warm in a while, so this was nice.

They began carrying the black bags out one at a time, careful not to snag them on the brick or catch them on the door. One by one, they went up and into the dumpster, each sending up a fresh plume of putrid air in their wake. Raine struggled with the last and largest bag, which had been left behind by the unhelpful afternoon shift. They tried to ignore the clumpy sloshing sounds as they waddled toward the dumpster, desperate to keep the bag from dragging on the pavement.

If they thought carrying it was bad, lifting it was worse. Raine managed to push the unwieldy burden up to their chest, pressing it against the sun-heated dumpster as they worked their hands underneath the garbage bag— all the better to roll it up and over the rim to let gravity pick up the slack. They heaved, arms straining, to lift the bag above their head.

The garbage inside shifted away from the dumpster with a wet sloshing sound, and the heavy black bag began to tip toward the parking lot at their back. Raine felt dread run down their spine as the immediate future unfolded before their minds-eye: an explosion of grease-soaked sludge, their clothes and shoes ruined, hours spent scrubbing the pavement before they could go home and wash off the worst of it with the garden hose. “Shit,” they hissed, “Not again!”

Two hands joined their own on the unsteady bag, bracing the tottering pile of garbage long enough for Raine to slip the bulk of it up and over the lip of the dumpster. The half-liquid mass fell out of sight with a heavy splash, like the world’s worst water balloon; a misty plume of grease broke across the far side of the dumpster like sea-spray near the Exxon Valdez. A foul, eye-watering stench colored the air.

The helping hands held an opinion, “Gross, dude.” 

“Oh my God, that was close,” Raine’s nerve-riddled laugh sounded half-frantic, “Yeah, super gross.” They turned to face their unexpected savior, “Thanks, you—”

“Ewww, my hands are wet!” Eda stared down at her glistening palms in horror, “Why are my hands wet?!”

“It was— on the floor—?” Raine pointed toward the still-open doorway in a half-hearted protest; that weak explanation was hardly their best work. They were too distracted by Eda, here, now. “Casey mopped, and…”

She was thin and pale—more so than usual—and her cheekbones stood out sharper than when they’d last seen her. Eda’s long orange hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, windswept and hand-combed, a testament to how little she cared. Her ever-present letterman jacket was hanging open this time, her sleeves pushed up around her elbows. She was a beautiful sight; Raine drank her in.

“That’s not water, dude,” Eda sniffed at her fingers and gagged. “Ugh, that smells like ass!”

Raine couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re laughing?!” Eda managed to sound offended, but Raine could hear the grin in her voice. “I got ass juice on my hands, and you’re laughing?”

“Sorry, Eda,” Raine promised, hand over their heart, like a pledge—that was the moment they realized they could feel that warmth in their chest again.

“You’re not sorry,” The Girl squinted her eyes at them for a few heavy heartbeats, and then her face fell. Eda looked down at the ground, and kicked the toe of her Adidas on the pavement. “I’m sorry…” She spoke with a voice far too old for her years. “I’m sorry, Raine. I… I told the nurses not to let you in to see me.”

Raine took a step back like they’d been struck. She could see the Why? written on their face.

Eda gave a lopsided shrug, “I didn’t… want you to see me like that.” She went to put her hands in her pockets, but stopped short. Instead, she looked up at the sky and blinked away the moisture gathering in her eyes. “Like I was just… some… broken thing.” She looked down and shrugged again. “I dunno, I thought…” She had to swallow before she could whisper the last few words, “I was afraid you might not want me anymore.”

Raine made a bewildered, questioning noise, like a “wait, what?” and a “but how!” mixed with a honk. So embarrassing.

“I know you’re my soulmate, Raine.” Eda had the absolute audacity to sound exasperated as she stood there, stiff as a board while she held her hands away from her sides. “I— I’ve seen it, I can feel it— Look.” She pointed toward herself, toward her heart; Raine could see a bandage wrapped around her chest, half-covered by her orange camisole, “Just because my stupid heart is busted, that doesn’t mean I can’t tell you’re the best thing that’ll ever happen to me.” She sniffed, and breathed out a wet chuckle, “I know it’s you. I’ve always known.”

“Well—” Raine’s dazed rebuttal finally found its footing. “I tried to see you, because I needed to know you were okay.”

“I’m sorry.”
“You passed out in the park.”
“I— I know!”

“No one would tell me anything.” They frowned when she didn't reply. “You could have said something.”

Eda grimaced and looked away.

“You could have— I dunno— left a note for me?!” Raine threw their hands up in the air.

“I know, okay? Why didn’t I—?” Eda squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, “I should have— God— I’m sorry, Raine, I just— I hate the way people look at me for this, and— and— I couldn’t bear the thought of you—”

They raised a hand, like, just stop, and she stumbled into silence. “You didn’t…” Raine sighed and tipped their head, staring at her, “You didn’t even give me a chance.”

After a long moment, she shook her head and whispered, “I should have.” 

“I wish you had,” Raine took a step forward, and gently lifted one of her hands in their own, “But I’m glad you’re here, now.” They tried to squeeze her hand in reassurance, but it made a squelching noise and nearly slipped from their grasp.

She huffed a laugh, then mumbled, “Gross. Your hands are wet.” Raine couldn't help but chuckle at that, with a fondness that came from somewhere deep inside.

Eda took a shuddering breath and managed one word before her voice broke, “Listen—” She sounded so unlike herself at that moment: small, timid. Vulnerable. Raine reached for her other hand and laced their fingers through hers; she held on tight. “The doctors… they— I don’t know how much… time… I have,” Eda whispered, her eyes fixed on their hands, unable to look them in the eye.

Raine hummed a calm note of understanding, something like I see, but perhaps closer to I’ve always known. She was a flame, a bonfire in human form; a candle burning at both ends. They had seen it from the beginning, they just hadn’t recognized the signs.

The Girl with the orange hair gave them a sad, lopsided smile of resignation. “I can’t… promise you forever.”

They tightened their hands around hers once, twice, before they shrugged, “Who wants to live forever?”

Eda looked at them, then, lower lip pinned between her teeth as her breath caught in her throat, her golden eyes flitting left and right as she examined their face for some sign of rejection, for some hint of You’re too much, or Life would be easier without you. Perhaps it would, but Good Things Are Often Hard. Their parents taught them that. Raine just smiled up at her, unwavering conviction in their eyes. She had to look away, just blinking, blinking, blinking, her lips pressed together in a quivering line. A slow hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when she breathed out a soft admission, “I think I friggin’ love you.” 

She blinked again and froze, then her face turned red.

Raine watched as unbridled horror filled her eyes and they couldn’t help but laugh. “I think I friggin’ love you too,” they grinned, and paused for a beat before adding, “Dork.”

She giggled then, giddy and perhaps in love, her face still burning red, still utterly embarrassed. That was when Raine noticed the pale light in her chest, beneath the bandages: a fitful, flickering glow that settled into a dim, muted orange. They watched it with a fair amount of concern. When Eda saw it, she merely muttered a soft, “Huh.”

In the end, that's all it took; a quiet sound of recognition, an easy smile of acceptance.

“Are you hungry?” Raine asked, abruptly aware of how low the evening sun had sunk in the sky, the long black shadows it traced from their silhouettes. Taking out the trash didn’t usually take half an hour, but it was time for their break, anyway.

“Whaddayou think, Rainestorm?” Eda snort-laughed like the question was the dumbest thing she’d heard all day, “I’ve been eatin’ hospital slop for weeks!” 

After hearing their nickname cross her lips, Raine felt a burden fall off their shoulders. They had never acknowledged the true weight of their fear and uncertainty during those long weeks apart. If anything, the red glow in their heart brightened at the word. “Lemme get you dinner, then,” Raine offered with a smile, wide and free, their green eyes crinkling with joy.

Eda blushed again, prettier than ever. “Okay.”

Raine tipped their head toward the Boston Market’s back entrance, and started to pull her along.

“Wait,” The Girl looked surprised, “Here?”

“Why not?” Raine gave her a quizzical side-eye, “I get free food.”

She fell into step beside them, spluttering, “If Lily— Free— well— then it’s not a date!”

“Um,” Raine considered her well-researched argument for an appropriate amount of time, then rejected it outright, “Yes, it is.”

“No, because—” Dark red spots bloomed high on her cheekbones as she waved at their uniform in protest, “you wouldn’t be wearing that on a date!”

“Fine, this is just an outta-the-hospital celebration,” Raine rolled their eyes before they turned around to walk backward, the better to watch her reaction, “I’ll wear that cardigan you like when I take you out tomorrow on a ‘proper’ date.” They dropped a set of air-quotes and winked, then most of her blood raced to her ears. Raine gestured toward the propped-open door with a half-bow, letting their voice drop to a low, crooning note, “After you, Edalyn.”

They got their food to go, so they could sit outside at the picnic table and watch the setting sun paint the sky with red and orange, much like the light shining from their wrists, from their hearts. What could be better than this, Raine could hardly imagine: a warm summer evening, that warmth in their chest, and a cool hand clasped in theirs. They glanced at Eda again in a mixture of wonder and disbelief; she was back. At last. They smiled, then turned back to watch the sunset. 

Eda propped her chin on one palm and watched them instead, wearing a crooked, gap-toothed grin. If she happened to lean over and give them a kiss on the cheek, well, Raine certainly wasn't one to complain. 

But if they turned their head and caught her lips with their own? Well… that would have to be a story for another time.