Chapter Text
The thing about it is, in every way that matters, she and Cassie shouldn’t get along.
Maddy’s bold, expressive, bitchy, and Cassie’s shy, timid, awkward. To see the two together, you wouldn’t think they’d work better together than apart, but that’s just the way it is. Maybe it’s because there’s more to either of them than what people see on the surface: Maddy is more than the overly confident, superficial airhead than people make her out to be, and Cassie’s more than the sweet, innocent little bunny rabbit people want her to be. Whatever it is, they’re better friends than either girl would have suspected.
Although, to be fair, Cassie kinda loses the saint image when her asshole boyfriends start spreading her nudes, and Maddy loses her loses her Wicked Witch of the West stamp of approval once word gets out that Nate choked her. Maddy isn’t sure if the changes are better or worse, but she doesn’t really care. Because through it all, Cassie’s standing right there, at her side, always with an ear to listen, even if Maddy doesn’t want it.
She thinks Cassie gets it. Her boyfriends may not have ever hit her, but they do put her down; they make her feel bad; they make her feel like sex is the only thing anyone would ever want from her. So, bruises or no bruises, Maddy knows that Cassie can relate because at the end of the day, it’s not the bruises that hurt the most.
They don’t talk about it. Not even when Maddy comes over one night, pulls off her scarf, and just shows her neck, the recent and the fading colors tainting her skin. Maddy stands there, holding her eyes like she’s daring Cassie to pity her, to coddle her, and Cassie just returns the stare, unmoving, until Maddy averts her eyes and sits on her bed.
“Did you study for that Chem test tomorrow”, Cassie asks softly, and they never talk about it.
She knows she could, just like Cassie knows she could always come to her. But that doesn’t change the fact that there are just some things they don’t talk about: her parents; Cassie’s dad; the end of her pageants; Cassie’s leaks. They trust each other more than anything, but that trust only goes so far.
It’s a weird relationship; complex, even. In some ways, they’re closer than she thinks any two people have a right to be, and, in others, she wishes they were more.
But then there are nights like this. Nights where the line between friendship and something more gets blurred and everything they do and don’t tell each other ceases to matter.
Maddy never tells anyone about these moments, when Cassie’s arms find themselves around her waist and her mouth finds Cassie’s lips and they slip beneath the covers and just hold each other and kiss each other and watch each other like they’re the only things that exist in this world. Partially because of those labels that, even now, after all this time, they’ve yet to shed, because they’d never understand something about two people they don’t understand. But mostly because Maddy doesn’t quite know what this is. Not really.
And the thing about it is, she doesn’t want to. Because she and Cassie have always been weird. This is just another kind of weird, a new weird. She doesn’t see the need to label it, and, when she and McKay break up and those moments become more and more often, the need lessens even further.
She never tells Maddy to break it off with Nate, even when she sees Maddy flinching away from his touch or glaring at a new text from him. She holds her hand, kisses the skin between her neck and her shoulder, maybe, but she never makes her do anything, even when she probably should. And maybe that makes her a bad friend, or maybe it makes her a good friend, but who fucking cares? Because Cassie’s always there, she’s just there, and Maddy thinks that should count for something. In her heart, she knows it counts for something.
Nate questions her about it once. Says she and Cassie have a “freaky close” relationship and that he doesn’t like it. Maddy just rolls her eyes and retorts something about Cassie being like a sister to her. He doesn’t let up, though, not until Maddy says she feels sorry for Cassie and that she’s only friends with her out of pity.
Then she drives over to Cassie’s house, cuddles with her, and tells her he’s unbearably controlling. Cassie rolls her eyes, calls him an asshole, tells Maddy that she’s an independent woman that don’t need no man, all the right things, all the safe things, and Maddy holds her just a little bit tighter, and whispers, a rarity, “I hate him”. And Cassie whispers back, “I hate him, too”, another rarity, and the rest of the night passes in silence.
She thinks about it. Breaking up with Nate. They’ve had their breaks before, but this time, this time, she really considers it. It makes her nervous, given that they’ve been together for so long, and she honestly can’t picture truly ridding herself of him. Then she thinks of what she’d be if she stayed, and it’s like, is there honestly anything worth salvaging?
She knows what it is about Nate that attracts her. He’s handsome; he’s smart; he’s decent in bed. But moreso than anything, he does what she wants, he makes her feel wanted. Maddy likes knowing that he’d die and kill for her, it’s like a power trip, one that makes her feel as in control of her destiny as her pageants used to. Smile with your teeth, bat your eyes, say something sweet, and you get a prize. In this case, the prize is Nate, it’s always been Nate, but what if it’s something else now?
What if it’s someone else? Someone she doesn’t have to put on a show for. Someone she can just lie in bed with and bitch about cramps and midterms and whatever the fuck else comes to mind because they could literally just talk for hours and hours and hours.
“Go to sleep”, Cassie mumbles, pressing her face closer into Maddy’s stomach.
Maddy just runs her fingers through Cassie’s hair and stares up at the ceiling. “You ever think you’ll fall in love again”, she whispers, and her phone beeps from where it’s sat on her nightstand. She blinks back tears because she knows, even without looking, that it’s Nate, calling to check up on her.
“I hope not”, Cassie murmurs sleepily. “But...probably, yeah.” She looks up at Maddy, blinks the sleep out of her eyes, and watches her. “You?”
Maddy squeezes her tighter and wraps her legs around her. “I hope so.”
Love. Love is a funny thing, she decides. Addictive, painful, maddening, but mostly funny. Most her life, she hasn’t wanted much of anything. And when the pageants came to an end, it seemed hard to really want to do anything.
Then she started watching movies, reading books. All romance, of course, and she realized it took a helluva lot of effort to be in love with someone. And it was a different kind of effort, unique, because it wasn’t like studying for a test or practicing lines or memorizing steps. It was deceit and performance and manipulation but also tender kisses on a carousel and sharing a jacket beneath a stormy sky and staying on the phone until dew drops began to form on spades of grass.
Ninth grade came and Maddy knew that above all else, above college and babies and a nine to five job, she wanted to love someone.
And she did. Not like Cassie but she loved all the same, with all her heart and body.
She just never realized that emotional effort could be as tolling as physical effort.
And that, when the guy you love’s an ass, they can often overlap.
It makes her think of her parents and of their love and how it ran dry in just ten years. Sometimes, she thinks of those Lifetime-esque movies where the dad beats on the mom and they both try to hide it from the kids. She knows it’s fucked up, but she watches those movies and wishes that were her family. At least then, they’d talk to each other. At least then, the house wouldn’t be so quiet that Maddy sometimes just screams to fill the void.
‘Course in that scenario, she wouldn’t be the only one screaming.
Regardless, she wishes they’d just talk to each other. Or at the very least, get a divorce so she doesn’t have to listen to all the silences in the house and stretch herself thin attempting to fill them.
“If I fall in love again”, Maddy whispers. “It’s gonna be for good. And it’s gonna be good. You know what I mean?”
Not good like with Nate or even those wackass John Green books. No, it’s gonna be the kind of love where you can kiss somebody without worrying if your breath smells like ass and not giving a shit if they can smell your fart or not. The kind where she won’t get random texts as three in the fucking morning about how her hair wasn’t on point this week, where she just show up looking like she just rolled out of bed and went and not get shit for it.
“I hope you find it”, Cassie murmurs against her.
Maddy purses her lips and narrows her eyes. “I will”, she says.
It’s a promise she intends to keep.