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It's a month until graduation - and two months after prom - when Marcy approaches Sasha all hesitantly, like a dog that knows it's done something wrong and is begging for forgiveness. Sasha may still not be the best at reading her, but she picks this out immediately, and scrunches her eyes up in concern.
"Hey girlfriend," she greets, offering her arms. Marcy sinks into them easily, groaning into Sasha's chest, and all Sasha can do is pet her hair bemusedly, waiting.
"I think we should talk," Marcy mumbles into Sasha's chest, barely legible.
"Oh yeah?" Sasha raises an eyebrow, holding Marcy's shoulders still even when she pulls her head away and straightens herself. "About what?"
Marcy inhales and exhales sharply, and her cheeks are flushed red. "About Anne."
"...oh.”
Oh feels like an understatement, because they’ve been playfully swept up in each other and therefore dancing right around the topic of Anne this entire time. Sasha hadn’t wanted to be the one to bring her up, because she knows that Anne’s involvement in the Prom Mishap - as Sasha likes to call it - had been a sore subject for Marcy, and contrary to popular belief, Sasha really isn’t stupid enough to rub salt on what is still very much an open wound.
But if Marcy is the one bringing it up…
“Sorry, this is so out of the blue,” Marcy apologizes, and she’s glancing guiltily at the floor again, shifting from one foot to another as Sasha holds her arms comfortingly. “It’s just… graduation’s coming up soon, and so is Anne’s birthday, and it has me… thinking.”
“Hey, you don’t have to apologize to me,” Sasha says, and she moves one of her hands to the back of Marcy’s head, holding her in place so she can bend over awkwardly and kiss her forehead. “Let me take you back to my place? And then you can tell me all about what’s on your mind.”
“Okay,” Marcy mumbles, and she still looks so conflicted even as Sasha guides her out of the school and towards her car. People are staring– but Sasha’s never really cared about that, and especially not now that she’s gotten what she’s wanted this entire time.
At least now Marcy lets her drive her home. All Sasha has to do is nudge her towards the passenger seat, and Marcy goes obediently, dropping into the seat with a loud sigh. She doesn’t speak much the entire drive back to Sasha’s place, and she’s quiet the entire time going up to Sasha’s bedroom, which really just speaks to how stressed about this she is; her Marcy, after all, is as talkative as they come.
Sasha should be worried, but all she wants to do is pull her close and kiss her and make her forget about her troubles. How stupid is that?
“Okay,” Marcy breathes when they’re finally alone, sitting on Sasha’s fancy designer bed in her fancy designer house. “I… I like Anne. I think I’ve always liked Anne, but we’ve reconnected after sophomore year and I just… it’s bad, right? Because I like you, I know I like you, I’ve liked you for so long now, and yet… here I am. Pining over Anne.”
“It’s not bad,” Sasha says, and she swallows painfully. “I… you know I was all over Anne a few years ago, yeah?”
Marcy just stares at her.
“I know you know,” Sasha grumbles. “Well, that feeling… it never really went away, I just also realized that I really liked you too, and that I was overcompensating hard when you pulled away. I didn’t want to lose you, and I didn’t want to lose her either, why do you think I listened to her romance advice so hard?”
“So you still like Anne,” Marcy whispers.
“I still like Anne,” Sasha confirms, something hollow sinking into her chest. “But… it’s fine! You know it’s fine, because I’m with you, and I would never, ever leave you Marce, okay? You’re my first choice.”
Marcy nods, but she doesn’t say anything, just staring almost blankly into space.
“And maybe it’s… okay, that we like Anne. I mean, polyamory. It’s a thing, I looked it up. It would make sense, right? We’ve always been… a trio, together. Doesn’t make sense to only pair off two of us.” Sasha’s rambling now, and she knows it, spitting out babble and nonsense as she rambles and rambles in a very Marcy fashion. “I mean… it’s Anne’s birthday next month, Marcy.”
“I know,” Marcy says quietly.
“And we both like her?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s do something about it. Invite her into the relationship. If…” Sasha trails off, and she gives Marcy a hard, almost guilty look. “If that’s something you want, I mean. You’re the one who brought it up.”
“You are so pathetic, Sasha Waybright,” Marcy says, but she’s teasing, Sasha can tell that she’s teasing by the sparkle in her eyes even as her facial expression doesn’t change. “Okay, so we invite Anne into our relationship. How would you go about that?”
“I mean, she likes flowers,” Sasha offers, “and cheesy pickup lines. If it came from both of us…”
“...maybe she’ll see it,” Marcy finishes, and she’s finally smiling, no longer looking nearly so guilty. “Okay. Okay, alright, I’m in.”
“You’re in!” Sasha beams, and she throws herself at her girlfriend, wrapping her in her arms as tightly as she can muster. “I love you, Marcy.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Marcy huffs, but she’s smiling into Sasha’s chest, Sasha can feel it. “Wanna prove it? Kiss me.”
“Gladly and with great pleasure,” Sasha tells her, and she kisses her, and kisses her, and kisses her.
~~
Anne is not in love with her best friends.
Really, she isn’t! She’s not in love with them, because they love each other, and she was the one who helped them get together in the first place so when she sees Sasha pull Marcy aside in the halls to kiss her, when she sees the way Marcy glows now… she doesn’t feel bad, she’s happy for them, honestly and truly.
Well, she can only lie to herself for so long; it’s just working right now, because she doesn’t have any reason to stop, or think otherwise.
Anne is not jealous of them, because she is satisfied exactly where she is. Sasha had asked her out last year, and she had rejected it because she remembers how Marcy had looked at them the year before, how sad she had been, how much she had craved Sasha’s affection, and Anne could not in good conscience deny her of it. Anne, after all, has always been too loving for her own good– why would she take something for herself if she knew it was something one of her loved ones wanted more than anything in the world?
So she’s really not in love with them, and she doesn’t feel the slightest bit weird when one of them asks her for something or when she sees them together, or when she can see the remnants of Sasha’s lipstick on Marcy’s lips and cheek, or… or in any situation, because she’s not jealous. She’s perfectly fine!
But she doesn’t really feel fine here anymore.
It’s a month until graduation. Anne’s own birthday is only a few days before graduation, so it’s also a month until her birthday. A full month, and she still has very little ideas for what she’s going to do once she graduates– she thinks she might try for culinary school, but she hadn’t sent any applications and the deadlines are steadily encroaching. Becoming an adult, she thinks, is severely overrated, and she’d much rather stay with her parents for as long as she can, bask in the success of the restaurant, with nothing that could ever stand in her way.
“I’m staying in LA.”
Marcy says this so innocuously, so out of the blue. It’s a Thursday, and they’re taking lunch together in the library at Marcy’s favorite table like they have been once a week every week since prom, and Anne’s never questioned it before but she’s certainly questioning it now as she nearly spits out her tea.
“What?” she questions, once she regains her breath.
“I thought you should know,” Marcy says, only half-apologetically. “For college… you know my parents had wanted something real grand for me, like Stanford, but… I don’t want that for me, and you and Sash have both helped me see that. I’m… I’m going to go to Cal Arts. Art school.”
“That’s… really cool, Marmar,” Anne says, and she grins, hoping the smile is as real as she wants it to be. “I’m glad you’re following your heart.”
“It wasn’t an easy choice for sure,” Marcy laughs, “but I didn’t want to leave Sash, and I… don’t want to leave you either. Is that crazy?”
Yes, Anne thinks, because Sasha is your girlfriend and I am just the friend you ran away from when you felt like it. How do I know you won’t do that kind of shit again?
She doesn’t say that though. She can’t– not when she’s just reconnected with Marcy, and she doesn’t want to jeopardize their newfound friendship.
“I don’t know where I’m going,” she confesses instead, vulnerable and pathetic, “I mean, I haven’t really figured out who I want to be yet… nevermind, it’s silly.”
She expects Marcy to agree with her, or to pull away, or to change the conversation.
Instead, Marcy takes her hand.
“It’s not silly,” she says, so seriously, squeezing Anne’s hand in a way that makes her heart pound in her chest, “I mean it. You don’t have to have everything figured out right now, you know? I mean, I certainly don’t– why do you think I’m going to art school of all places? I want to find myself, and I think you need that too– no matter what you do.”
Anne swallows down the urge to cry, and she shakily nods. “Thanks Marbles,” she whispers, her cheeks all flushed. “I’m glad we’re friends.”
Marcy smiles, something pure and honest and loving. “Me too,” she says sincerely, and Anne believes it.
~~
“We should have a flirting competition.”
Sasha says it so nonchalantly, Marcy almost can’t believe her ears. “I’m sorry,” she says, “what?”
Sasha grins, all smug and superior like they hadn’t been making out for the past thirty minutes– if not longer. “Since we both want Anne,” she clarifies, “we should compete for it. Make it fun. If I can convince her first, I win– you get it?”
“That’s a horrible idea,” Marcy tells her straight, even though her chest is starting to flutter with butterflies. “I mean, won’t Anne feel used?”
Sasha just gives her a flat look.
“Okay okay, fine, you got me, I do love a good competition.” Marcy snorts, and she curls into Sasha’s chest. “Do you think… do you really think she likes me?”
“Marmar, you are so lovable, I don’t know how anybody doesn’t like you,” Sasha tells her sincerely. “I mean it. Anne doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
Marcy laughs, but she feels all sorts of tingly and warm inside– somehow, Sasha’s gotten really, really good at comforting her and tending to her needs since they started dating, despite the rocky start. “Thanks,” she whispers. “For what it’s worth, I think… you too. That Anne should love you, I mean. I thought everybody loved you at one point in my life.”
“Everybody does love me, you’re not wrong about that,” Sasha grins, all smug and superior. “But thanks, I appreciate it too. We are going to kill this competition, I just know it.”
“Maybe we should set a time limit,” Marcy suggests, shuddering as Sasha starts to play with her hair, “like… if we don’t get her to confess to one or both of us by her birthday, we throw her a big birthday party and confess to her then. Together, as a unit, so she knows that we’re… really serious about her. I mean, I’m really serious about her, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Sasha says softly, “that’s a really good idea, Mars. I’m in.” She pauses, and her fingers are working so deftly in Marcy’s hair, she thinks it might be a braid. “We should throw a party for her regardless though. I mean, it’s her eighteenth birthday– gotta host it in style, you know?”
Granted, the last time Sasha had thrown Anne a birthday party it had gone disastrously, but that’s why they don’t talk about middle school anymore. Marcy bops her head in agreeance, even as it earns her a startled squawk from Sasha who is now very much braiding her hair.
“Do you like braiding my hair?” she wonders aloud, “or is it a stimulus type of thing? I mean, both are equally valid, but–”
“--I like it,” Sasha interrupts, and Marcy thinks she can feel her smiling even though she can’t see her face from this angle. “You have nice hair, Mars. Think you’re gonna grow it out any longer than this?”
“Hm. Probably, if you promise you’ll do it for me every day,” Marcy tells her.
“Sounds like we have a deal, buttercup,” Sasha is definitely smiling now– Marcy can just picture the goofy, lovesick grin on her face brought on by the nickname.
She’s going to have to work really, really hard if she wants to woo Anne before Sasha does, isn’t she?
~~
There is a box of chocolates in her locker.
Anne stares at the box very hard, squinting at the labels curiously. Milk chocolate with caramel filling… it’s her favorite kind, though she rarely eats them cause chocolate makes her stomach hurt. There are no notes, no letters, not one clue as to who might’ve left her chocolate in her locker, but her heart flutters all the same as she takes the box out, examines it.
“Woah, Boonchuy,” her doubles teammate comments, eyeing the box in her hands. “Looks like it might be your turn for a secret admirer, huh?”
“It’s not even prom season anymore,” Anne says, and she rolls her eyes, stuffing the box inside of her backpack.
“Come on, it’s romantic! I thought you liked romance?”
Anne likes the idea of romance, she thinks. There was a period in her life where she’d been thrilled to pick a box of chocolates out of her locker, and she’d swoon in front of the waiting audience hoping the giver would pop out of nowhere and catch her. It would be romantic, she’d probably be kissed, and live happily ever after, the end, right?
Life doesn’t really work like that, though, and after playing matchmaker - as is her specialty, after all - for most of her life, Anne thinks she’s just fine by herself, thank you very much.
“It’s sweet,” she says instead, smiling to herself as she slings her backpack over her shoulder, “but I don’t really like mysteries for myself. I’d rather them come out and just… give it to me in person, you know?”
“Makes sense,” her teammate says, and that’s the end of it… except Anne can’t stop thinking about the box, about the appearance in her locker, and about the only two people in this entire school that would know her favorite chocolate type.
There’s no way, she tells herself, clutching her bag to her heart, someone just got really lucky and guessed. Or, or maybe they asked them for the information to woo me. It’s fine.
~~
It’s not fine.
“She didn’t like getting the chocolates anonymously,” Sasha groans, slumping into the wall of the locker room that her Anne had just exited.
“Well, you had given the flowers to my face. You know Anne, she’s going to overthink everything and catastrophize the smallest of details in her head. You gotta be upfront about it.” Marcy says flippantly, her voice tinny in the phone speakers.
“Catastrophize. That’s a big fancy word, Wu. How do you know Anne so well, anyways?”
“We’re a lot alike, we all are– and I’ve watched videos, it’s pretty much a form of therapy at this point, ” Marcy snorts. “Listen, I know your attempts didn’t work on me, but I’m not Anne, and Anne likes direct action! Tell her you like her, and she won’t be able to deny it!”
“Is that what you’re going to do?” Sasha accuses.
“Yes!” Marcy says eagerly, and Sasha can just see her grin even though she’s on the complete other side of the school. Her energy is infectious, though, and Sasha’s shoulders have relaxed throughout the entire conversation. “This might be a competition, but I’m not above helping you out a little– I’m still going to win.”
“Oh, you’re so on.”
“Sash–”
Sasha hangs up, smiling victoriously.
~~
Anne takes her lunch in the cafeteria today.
She doesn’t always. Sure, she always has lots of friends and people to talk with, but somehow she has never really… fit with them. She feels like she’s sitting on the back wall near the exit, like at any given point she could get up and leave and nobody would care.
It’s a lonely existence, but that’s been her reality since Marcy distanced herself and Sasha became too overwhelming. It’s just fine for her right now though, and Anne smiles at her friends as she sits with her lunch, picking through her food as quickly as possible.
After only a few minutes, though, there’s a lull in the conversation and a tap on her shoulder. Anne spins around, fork still in her hand… and it’s Marcy, standing awkwardly behind her with a bag in hand.
“My study partner wanted to do labs today, but I was… really hungry,” she says, almost apologetically, “and I didn’t have anywhere else… could I sit with you?”
“Oh,” Anne says, smartly, “I mean… yeah! You’re always welcome here, dude.” She pats the seat next to her, and Marcy smiles gratefully, sitting down right next to her.
It’s a crowded table. Their sides are brushing against each other, and though Anne’s used to physical affection and especially with Marcy… it’s been awhile, since they’ve done anything aside from the short hugs over the past month. Anything else feels like wading in dangerous waters, like they might tread too far and get way in deep over their heads and drown with the force of it.
But if Marcy minds, she doesn’t say so. In fact, if Anne didn’t know any better, she might think that Marcy’s actually leaning into the touch, scooting closer to her when she has room on the other side as she eats with her left hand purposefully. She doesn’t want to elbow me?
“So… your day been going good?” Anne asks, and then mentally curses herself immediately after. That was a stupid question, Boonchuy, and you know it.
“It has, actually!” Marcy perks up, beaming wide as she shovels food into her mouth. “I’m almost ready to take the ACT again– not that I need another score, but I wanted to see if I could get my own higher… but that’s a little boring, haha. What about you?”
It’s smalltalk. Anne kills smalltalk, she always has, but something about this feels like unchartered waters as her eyes drift to the smaller Marcy leaning against her, hair done in a very messy braid, glasses perched precariously on her nose, and it’s the same person that Anne has been friends with since they were too young to talk and yet everything has shifted.
Anne doesn’t know why.
“Well, we have the state finals coming up soon,” she says, answering Marcy’s question finally after a pause too long for her own comfort. “Not to brag, but it’s kinda a big deal.”
“That’s so exciting Anne!” Marcy’s eyes light up, and she’s still smiling so widely, now giving Anne a look so adoring she has to look down at her food aggressively. “I’m so happy for you, really. Have you made any plans to celebrate afterwards?”
“Why celebrate if we don’t know we’re gonna win yet?” Anne shakes her head. “Besides, it’s too close to my birthday, and you know how my parents get for my birthday.”
“Fair enough,” Marcy says, and she jumps up to her feet, her lunch absolutely demolished despite the fact that they’ve been chatting the entire time– or maybe she just hadn’t gotten much to eat, Anne hadn’t been paying that much attention. “We should talk more, could I join you at lunch again?”
“You… don’t need to ask, Marbles, you know I love your company,” Anne frowns up at her.
“I know, I know, but I… don’t want to intrude your space, okay? So if I’m ever… I don’t know, it’s silly,” Marcy fidgets, and she steps backwards– subconsciously, most likely, but it does mean that her foot catches the strap of a backpack sitting on the floor and she flails.
Anne doesn’t even feel herself move. One minute, she’s sitting down and in the next, she’s flung herself out of her seat to catch Marcy with one arm around her back, holding her in some dance position with their faces inches apart.
“Ah,” Marcy whispers, and her eyes are wide, just as adoring as they had been earlier. There’s a smattering of freckles across her nose, Anne realizes, and the smallest of yellow flecks in her eyes, and her lashes are long, so long, and her cheeks just as flushed as Anne knows her own are.
“You gotta be more careful,” she scolds, but her heart isn’t into the scolding– instead, it’s pounding so loud in her chest she can barely hear a thing over the bloodrush in her ears.
“Anne…” Marcy says, breathlessly, “I… I–”
–the bell rings.
The bell rings, and Anne jumps back, releasing Marcy back onto her feet with all the energy of a hyperactive puppy. “Sorry, I… gotta go, it was nice seeing you Marce, take care of yourself!” she says quickly, firing off each word as she shoves her lunchbag back into her backpack, throwing it over her shoulder with her cheeks burning the entire time.
Gods, what was she thinking? She hasn’t had to actively keep Marcy out of danger in… at least a year, and it’s something she’s done hundreds of times, so really she should know better, she shouldn’t have gotten so involved, she should’ve pulled away immediately, she shouldn’t…
…she shouldn’t still be thinking about it, the way that Marcy was looking at her. Anne pulls the collar of her shirt into her face and she groans, long and loud.
~~
“You didn’t tell her?”
Marcy kicks her feet against the boards of Sasha’s bed, frowning at the floor. “No,” she admits, and although she still feels giddy from the way Anne had been holding her earlier, she’s also grumpy, mad at herself for stammering on the very important informational tidbit she hadn’t gotten to say.
Sasha isn’t judging her, but she is giving her a very curious look through the vanity mirror as she reapplies her eyeliner.
“I mean, I tried. I really tried, okay? I even purposefully tripped cause I knew she’d catch me!” Marcy waves her hands around as she explains, swinging her legs a little bit harder against Sasha’s bed. “But then she just… she was just looking at me with those big, kind eyes of her and I just… I couldn’t say anything.”
“Understandable, I get that way around you sometimes,” Sasha comments, and she finally puts her makeup stuff down, turning her head over her shoulder to give Marcy a hard look. “Sounds like you’re doing pretty good though, Mar. You said she was blushing at you.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Marcy mutters, and she groans, flopping downwards. “This is why I never pursued you, you know. I knew you knew that I liked you, and I really couldn’t do anything about it because it was just too embarrassing. Do you think Anne knows I like her too?”
“Who knows?” Sasha asks, and footsteps pitter across the carpeted floor as Sasha comes to join her on the bed. “Come on, Mars, we should get our minds off of it. What if I took you to the arcade tonight?”
“You know how to spoil me so well now,” Marcy sighs, grinning to herself as Sasha pulls her onto her feet. “Okay, okay. But we gotta talk about this again later!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Sasha kisses her, and Marcy laughs, sinking into the affection like quicksand. She can think about Anne later.
~~
Anne can’t stop thinking about them.
It’s a curse now. She adores her friends, of course she does, but she can feel Sasha’s eyes on her the entire time she walks the halls in school, and everywhere she goes, she thinks about the wide-eyed adoring look that Marcy had given her before, and the twitch of her nose, and… it’s annoying, she shouldn’t be thinking about them, because they’re her friends and they’re in a very happy relationship that Anne had personally put her bets on and that’s the end of that!
But she keeps thinking about them regardless.
It’s a new day, and when she opens her lockers, she expects… chocolates again, which is silly cause she got the chocolate days ago and there hasn’t been anything of them since, and Anne herself had declared them unwanted out loud to anyone who might hear her, and so she really shouldn’t be expecting chocolates.
There’s no chocolates.
Anne sighs, and she closes her locker, only to jump back half a foot as a pair of mischievous eyes focus on her, lined in dark eyeliner. Sasha has certainly cleaned herself up well after her disastrous courting attempt, with her hair down and styled in waves, her makeup done perfect, and her cheerleading garb replaced with casualwear as she smiles at Anne lazily.
She’s holding a giant bouquet of flowers in her hands.
“Hey Sash,” Anne greets nervously, wiping her forehead for any sweat she swears she can feel. “You totally scared me, dude– those for Marcy?”
“Actually, Boonchuy, they’re for you,” Sasha says, and she all but shoves the flowers outwards, offering them towards Anne. “I… put a lot of thought, into them, so.”
“Sasha,” Anne says, her voice coming out a whisper as she takes the flowers. “I… this is sweet, but you’re dating Marcy! You can’t just go around giving me flowers, we don’t… we can’t be like that anymore.”
“Marcy knows,” Sasha blurts, and she flushes bright red, her eyebrows all knit in frustration as Anne squints dubiously at her. “I mean it. She knows about… everything. Us. The way I feel about you.”
“You can’t do that to her,” Anne says, trembling, “you can’t… Marcy deserves to be adored, you know that, I told you that. She deserves to be spoiled, so… give her the damn flowers, Waybright.”
“Anne–”
Anne shoves the flowers right back at Sasha and she storms off.
~~
“She rejected your flowers?”
“Stop repeating it, it’s embarrassing enough already,” Sasha groans, flopping back in the library chair.
She doesn’t go to the library very often– the only time in her recent memory had been during Marcy’s chess match. But she had needed to vent her extreme frustrations, and she had called Marcy, and Marcy had been here, studiously working on homework just like the perfect valedictorian she was.
By the stars, Sasha loves her precious little nerd.
“No no no, tell me it again,” Marcy says, a little smile on her face even as she keeps her eyes on the paper she’s writing. “Anne rejected your flowers cause she wanted you to give them to me instead, is that right?”
“She cares about you,” Sasha admits, and she groans again, burying her hands in her eyes. “Damn it, we’ve been going about this all wrong, Mars. Anne knows I like her, but she doesn’t know that you like her. I can write her a fucking love song and she’d never openly reciprocate my feelings because she doesn’t want to hurt you.”
“Uh huh,” Marcy says absent-mindedly.
“Which means… we have to get her in love with you. ”
“Right.”
“No, I’m serious Marcy,” Sasha slams both of her hands down on the table, and finally Marcy looks up at her startled, eyes wide. “Anne loves you, I can tell. You just gotta seduce her a little bit to make her realize it. That faking a fall stuff is pretty good, but you need to go bigger. She likes the big gestures, you know?”
“Sash,” Marcy whispers, and for once, she looks confused, genuinely confused, like she doesn’t understand what Sasha’s telling her.
“It’s okay, Marce, this is… we want Anne, right? Then you have to convince her. Flirt with her, woo her, kiss her, whatever you gotta do to get her to realize she likes you.” Sasha’s rambling now, and she leans across the table, takes Marcy’s trembling hands in her own. “You’re smart, you’re cute as fuck, and Anne told me today she thinks you deserve to be spoiled. Spoiled! Like I don’t spoil you enough.”
Marcy snorts, and then she’s shaking her head, little giggles escaping her. “Okay, okay. I… I’m not a great romancer, Sash. But I can try.”
“Just be yourself,” Sasha encourages, “you can do this, buttercup.”
“You really like that nickname, huh?” Marcy snorts, and she stands, pulling her hands away from Sasha to put books away back into her bag.
“It’s pretty. Plus, you’re my Buttercup, and I’m your Wesley, right?” Sasha flicks her hair, offers her most devilish grin.
“You would make for a good Dread Pirate Roberts, that’s for sure,” Marcy deadpans.
“I’m taking that as a compliment!” Sasha stands as well, sliding her bag back onto her shoulder before offering her arms out wide. “Come on baby girl, you know you want one.”
“Insufferable,” Marcy mutters, but she sinks into Sasha’s arms for a parting hug regardless, and she fits so perfectly, so tight and snug as Sasha holds her.
Sasha doesn’t really know how she actually feels about this situation. She doesn’t know how things will change with Anne, or if they’ll burn bridges they didn’t think had ever been built in the first place… but she knows so long as she has her Marcy, everything will be fine.
Right?
~~
If the situation at lunch was strange, then what happens afterwards feels straight up otherworldly.
Anne stands in the bathroom after school. She has practice, so she focuses on the mirror, hairband in her mouth as she concentrates on taming her hair, gathering the curls with both of her hands. This specific bathroom is quiet, because it’s in the science wing of the building, far away from all the unruly sports kids that would otherwise be around; it’s why she chose it, and why she keeps coming back here.
Unfortunately, it means she’s in danger of being found.
The door swings open, and Anne’s eyes jump upwards, staring at the mirror as none other than Marcy Wu herself comes strolling in. Marcy’s hair is messy, and there’s a smudging of dark red lipstick against the corner of her lips, one she doesn’t seem to notice.
It makes something vicious curl inside of Anne’s gut, but she ignores it.
“Oh, hey Anne,” Marcy greets, and she jumps on top of the counter, swinging her legs as she leans against the mirror with a sigh. “Didn’t expect to find you here.”
“Marce, what are you doing ?” Anne asks, squinting at her dubiously.
“I’m walking home today,” Marcy explains, “but everything got… overwhelming, haha. And sitting on the counter is fun.”
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Anne sighs, and she finally gets a good grip on her hair, carefully holding it one-handedly while she retrieves her hairband with the other. Her arms ache from the strain of it, but it’s an ache she’s familiar with, and she isn’t bothered in the slightest as she finally gets her hair all properly tied up.
When she looks back up after a period of silence, she finds Marcy’s eyes on her, staring at her with flushed cheeks.
It’s cute. She’s cute. Marcy has always been the cutest of them three and the years have done her justice, even if she does have… fuck, smeared lipstick on the corner of her lip, because this is insane and Anne doesn’t know why she’s thinking about it.
“Did Sasha give you those flowers?” she asks instead, hoping maybe the topic - the idea that Sasha had approached Anne with flowers - would be enough to drive Marcy away without Anne having to say so.
“Flowers?” Marcy questions, and then her eyes widen almost in recognition. “Oh, those! Actually, uh… I made that bouquet.”
Anne stares at her.
“It’s true! Dandelions and hibiscus, your favorites, right?” Marcy sighs in relief when Anne gives the tiniest of nods. “But it seemed… weird, coming from me, so I gave them to Sasha to give to you instead. I just… cause your birthday is coming up, right? And I… appreciate you, a lot. And I wanted to give you flowers.”
“Mars, that’s… really sweet of you, but you should really be giving flowers to your girlfriend, not me,” Anne snorts, and she offers her arms carefully. “Come on, get down from there and I’ll walk you to the front of the school.”
Marcy stares at her with a flat, unreadable look for a moment, but then she’s sliding off of the counter, landing with a little oomf directly in Anne’s arms. She’s just as warm as she had been during lunch, and without a crowd to stare at them or a bell to interrupt them, keeping an arm around her waist feels… natural.
“Thanks, Anne,” Marcy whispers, flush against her side.
“Yeah, no problem,” Anne grins, and she pulls Marcy into her a little bit tighter. This, at least, she can do– she’s just being a good friend, right?
…right?
~~
Marcy is decidedly not great at this flirting thing.
After she had pretty much confessed to Anne - cause what friend gifts their bestie flowers two weeks before her birthday? - and it had backfired, she realized she really… really needs to get a grip and make an actual plan instead of going with the flow.
It’s stupid. It’s all entirely too stupid, and she’s just as bad as Sasha had been during the courting period, and Marcy really doesn’t know what she’s thinking, trying to confess explicitly to Anne…
…no, she knows what she’s thinking. She knows that there was a reason she pulled away from both of her friends in sophomore year, when she had been unimaginably jealous and didn’t actually know who that jealousy was directed at. She knows, because before the thought of Sasha being with Anne was painful and heartwrenching, but now… if she was there…
…yeah okay, she likes Anne.
She likes Anne, and Sasha likes Anne, and she had been convinced that Anne had liked Sasha too, and she’s not entirely unconvinced that Anne didn’t only reject Sasha so that Sasha would go out with Marcy, which is really sad and something that Marcy could see herself doing so it’s unfair, it’s wholly unfair to Anne, and–
–and she’s overthinking it again.
She sits in her room, staring at her idea board with tired eyes. She’s tried… well, she hasn’t actually tried flirting, because flirting on the spot is already hard enough with Sasha so it’s like, doubly hard with her sweet Anne. She’s tried an indirect confession and she’s manipulated situations to get herself into Anne’s arms, and that hasn’t been enough, she has to go bigger.
Marcy stares at her calendar, where Anne’s birthday is circled in blue ink, and an idea pops into her head.
~~
“Hi Anne– ah!”
“Marcy!” Anne leaps forwards, just in time for her best friend to come stumbling from the other side of the hallway. What she tripped on, Anne has no idea, but she catches her all the same, pulling her into her chest to stop her fall.
“You’ve gotten clumsier since the last time I saw you,” she chides, holding Marcy steady as she rights herself. “Are you okay, Marmar?”
“Me? Anne, I’m fine, just… caught someone else’s untied shoe, I guess?” Marcy laughs all nervously, and she shifts from foot to foot as she straightens up. “Sorry this keeps happening, though. You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Anne says, and she offers her arm– Marcy takes it without hesitation. “Just worried for you. Are things… going okay?”
“With… what, with Sasha?” Marcy blinks up at her with those long lashes, and she snorts with laughter. “Aww, Anne, is that what you’re worried about?”
“Listen, Marce, I know we’ve only recently reignited our friendship, but when you pulled it away, it… gave me a lot of time to think, okay?” Anne stares at the floor as they walk, arm in arm like they used to do all the time as kids. “And knowing you weren’t happy before meant I can look back and see the signs of it, and… you’re getting spacey, just like you used to. I’m just… concerned for you, that’s all. I don’t want to lose you again.”
“Anne, you’re not… you’re not going to lose me, I promise.” Marcy stops in her tracks, and she tugs her arm free so that she can stand in front of Anne instead, staring up at her with big, soulful eyes. Her hands fall onto Anne’s shoulders, and Anne half-heartedly goes to hold onto her wrists, locking the two of them together.
“You’re right, I wasn’t happy before. I was a pushover just like you used to be, and I had convinced myself that I’d put up with anything if it meant us staying together… but when staying together was what was hurting me, it just wasn’t working. I never meant to hurt you, I think… I didn’t think you guys would care so much, if I pulled away. It felt natural.” Marcy breathes, and her eyes are misting up behind her glasses, and Anne thinks she might be tearing up too. “But I really, really like you, Anne, and I always have. You’re not going to lose me unless you want me to leave, because I’m yours, I always have been. Okay?”
Anne sniffs, and then the floodgates open and she wails, pulling Marcy into her. Marcy makes a muffled sound of protest, but Anne ignores it to pull Marcy into her arms once again, holding her close.
And to think she had been feeling conflicted about Marcy just a few weeks ago. How silly was she to think that Marcy would hurt her on purpose? Anne knows her Marcy, and she should’ve known her better– but that’s okay, because now they have all the time in the world.
After a few minutes of the embrace, though, Marcy makes a noise of complaint again, and she squirms. “Anne,” she whines, “I have to get to class.”
“Right, right,” Anne pulls away, cheeks heating in embarrassment. “Yeah, sorry. Uh. See you later?”
Marcy smiles at her, that same fond, intimate smile that Anne has been seeing a lot of in recent memory. “Yeah,” she says, “see you later.”
And it is only after she’s gone, after Anne walks to her own class and sits down and thinks on the conversation, that she has an intense realization.
Wait.
Did Marcy tell me she loves me?
~~
Sasha has been having a stellar time.
Her reputation had taken a massive hit when she had skipped prom - not that she had any regrets, not when it meant she got to spend the entire weekend learning more about her Marcy - and ever since Marcy had started trying to flirt with Anne, there had been… less than stellar whispers. Sasha had put a stop to them every single time she heard them, but that didn’t stop them from sticking under her skin.
“You think Wu is cheating?”
“Makes sense to me. Figures she’d already have someone. Waybright should’ve cut her losses from the start.”
“Think she got what she deserved, honestly. Serves her right.”
Sasha grits her teeth, and she groans, sinking down onto the bleacher seat. She should be rehearsing - she’s going to be performing for graduation, which she suspects is only because of how much the teachers like her since there has never been a cheerleading performance at graduation before - but she’s tired and sweaty and she misses her girlfriend and she misses–
“Uh, Sasha?”
–Anne.
Sure enough, Anne Boonchuy herself is sticking her head through the gym door. She’s still dressed in her tennis uniform, and her hair is all sorts of frizzy from the heat, and she looks dead on her feet exhausted… but she’s here. Talking to Sasha, when she hasn’t willingly initiated a conversation with Sasha in… ages. Not since the rejection.
“Oh! Hi, Anne,” Sasha says, and she feels a little bit like a loser, jumping to her feet to greet her friend. “Done with practice?”
“Yeah, with the tournament this weekend we’re pretty much ready,” Anne says, and when she looks back up at Sasha it is with something almost apprehensive. “But… okay. I’ll be upfront with you. I have questions.”
“Questions?”
“I think Marcy told me she loves me.”
Sasha freezes at the statement.
Sure, she knows the plan. She knows that she told Marcy to make a big, bold move, one that Anne couldn’t deny or ignore, so that they could continue on with the plan to drag Anne into the relationship. She knows that. But there is something about knowing it and something about hearing it that make the two feel… very different.
She can’t let that slip, though, so she plasters on her most easygoing smile. “Anne, you two have been friends for… what, fourteen years? I’d be more surprised if she didn’t love you.”
“She also told me that she made that bouquet of flowers. You know, the ones you tried to give to me.” Anne inhales, and she’s standing in front of the gym door like she’s going to bolt. “Listen, Sash, I don’t… I don’t like being played with, you know that. What’s going on? Why is Marcy being so mushy with me?”
“You like her, don’t you?” Sasha asks, softly.
“That doesn’t matter ! She is with you! She is with you, and I respect that, I’m so happy you two are together and happy, and she wants to be happy so I’m not going to interfere with it, but…” Anne groans, long and slow, and she buries her face in her hands. “Forget it. This was a silly idea. I just wanted to make sure you’re not… projecting your feelings for me onto her and making her do silly things.”
“I can’t make Marcy do anything,” Sasha says, quietly, “not anymore. And I’d never want to, I told you I’m done being that kind of person. Anne–”
“-forget it, I said forget it.” Anne shakes her head, and she peeks out from behind her fingers finally with a quiet resignation. “Sorry. For getting so defensive against you. You don’t deserve that.”
“I definitely deserve that,” Sasha tells her, and she snorts with laughter. “It’s okay, Anne, I can handle it. Are you… okay? Happy?”
“I don’t know. I… I’m fine. You should take her out on a date or something. She’s spacing out again, and I’m worried.” Anne pauses, and then shakes her head again, slipping right out of the gym door before Sasha can say anything else.
Sasha sits there on the bleachers for a moment, two moments. Once she’s absolutely sure that Anne’s not going to come barging in, she pulls her phone out.
“Hey, you still at school?”
“Marcy, what the fuck did you tell Anne today?” Sasha blurts.
“I told her the flowers were my idea, and she told me today she doesn’t want to lose me again so I told her she wouldn’t. I’m doing what you told me to do!” Marcy protests on the other line, sounding genuinely scared– scared enough that Sasha sighs, inhaling a deep breath to calm herself down.
“Sorry, sorry. Just… she’s really confused now. I think we should pull our punches and confess to her at her party, just like planned.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same. You got any ideas for the party?”
“A few.” Sasha sighs, and she slumps back against the bleachers. “I just… really want this to go right. Love you?”
“Don’t say that like a question, Waybright,” Marcy teases, “love you too. Come over later tonight? I’ll leave my window open.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time, buttercup!”
Sasha hears Marcy laugh, and then the phone beeps as she hangs up. She hangs up, and now Sasha has a party to plan, because this has to be absolutely perfect. Nothing short of the best for their Anne.
This has to be perfect, she tells herself.
I have work to do.
~~
It starts with a text from Marcy.
CONGRATS!!! it reads, with a screencap of the local newspaper, broadcasting Anne’s recent victory at state. It had been such a private event, and honestly, Anne didn’t think anyone would notice – or care.
But Marcy had, and it had made Anne smile to herself, even as she had pointedly avoided her friends, not wanting to be caught in… whatever was going in between them.
Anne: thanks, Marmar !!!
Marcy: I know you said you didn’t want to celebrate prematurely or anything but
Marcy: tomorrow is your birthday! And so I was wondering… wanna come out with us? I’ll treat you to boba :3
Anne:
Anne stares at her phone. Us, implying that it would be Marcy and Sasha, so it’s not like Marcy’s explicitly asking her on a date or anything, but… it’s still…
… whatever makes them happy, Anne reminds herself.
Anne: yeah, I’d love to come! thanks, mars <3
Marcy: ehehe. see you at five?
Anne: I’ll be there.
~~
It starts with a text from Marcy.
Marcy: I don’t know what you planned
Marcy: but Anne won her tennis match, she’s a state champ.
Marcy: and i saw an opportunity and took it.
Marcy: i invited her to boba. with us. tonight.
Marcy: better dress up.
Sasha: i thought you were supposed to be the planner? IM the impulsive one marce, what the hell
Marcy: is that a no, you don’t want to go out with anne n i for boba?
Sasha: brat. fine, okay, we’ll do things your way
Marcy: >:3
Marcy: see u at five!!!
Sasha rolls her eyes fondly, and she pockets her phone. Well, it won’t affect her plans too terribly much to shift things over to tonight. Good thing she went shopping yesterday.
~~
Anne arrives at the boba cafe anxiously.
She doesn’t even know why she’s so anxious about this. After all, she’s just meeting her best friends for her birthday, to celebrate her state championship win. It’s fine, she’s totally fine, there’s no reason for her to be freaking out so hard…
…except she’s still having those strange, mixed feelings, and she doesn’t know what to do about it.
Inside, Marcy and Sasha are already here, and they look… wonderful, with Marcy decked out in a sundress and cardigan and Sasha wearing a blazer and dress pants, both of them looking far too fancy for a night getting boba. Anne checks her own outfit anxiously, and she stops in front of their table swallowing.
“Hey,” she says, softly.
“Hey, champ!” Marcy greets, beaming as she pats the seat across from them. “I already ordered your drink for you– hope it hasn’t changed?”
Despite herself, Anne smiles, and she drops herself into the chair. “Thanks, Marce. I… I appreciate it a lot, honestly. That you remembered.”
“Of course I remembered, how could I forget?” Marcy reaches across the table and she takes Anne’s hands with both of her own, smiling at her so compassionately, Anne almost feels guilty for avoiding her.
…almost.
If Sasha thinks anything strange of the way Marcy holds Anne’s hands, she doesn’t say so. In fact, she just stares at Anne, something fond in her gaze as well, and that too has Anne feeling icky in ways she can’t explain– she likes it, she’s always liked the attention, but…
…she can’t do that to Marcy.
Frog, why is this all so hard?
“Something wrong, Anne?” Sasha questions. “I have your birthday gift with me, by the way– hope that isn’t off-limits or anything stupid.”
“You… you didn’t have to get me a birthday gift,” Anne protests, but Sasha’s turning around and pulling a box out of her pocket anyways. It’s small, and the icky feeling in Anne’s veins spreads to her stomach as she takes the box, pulling away from Marcy to do so.
It’s… it’s a bracelet.
A really cute bracelet, actually, one decorated in sunflowers and blue butterflies. It almost looks custom made, and Anne swallows, staring down at it in apprehension. “This is… beautiful,” she breathes, and she glances up at Sasha in near shock. “Sash–”
“-Marcy, why don’t you put it on her?” Sasha interrupts, and she holds Anne’s gaze proudly, almost defiantly.
“It is pretty,” Marcy agrees, and she takes Anne’s hand back, delicately holding it as she clasps the bracelet on. The charms are cold, and Marcy’s hand is warm, and she lingers even once the bracelet is on, holding Anne’s hand. “You have really good taste, Sash.”
“You already knew that,” Sasha teases, and she and Marcy finally look away from Anne to exchange looks with each other, and that really is the final straw for Anne.
“What is going on?” she demands, her heart pounding. “What… what are you two doing, is this a game? I don’t… I don’t understand, what are you…”
“Anne…” Marcy says, softly, helplessly.
“We like you,” Sasha says bluntly. Marcy elbows her in the side.
“You like me,” Anne states flatly, “right. I noticed that, but… but why? You two are happy together! You don’t… you don’t need me.”
“Yes we do!” Marcy blursts, and she stands, rummaging through her purse for a few long seconds before pulling out what looks like a notebook. “Anne, listen, you… we’ve always been together, the three of us, and realizing that, realizing that we’ve always been the three of us together… it made being just two of us seem really shallow, you know?”
Anne stares at her. Her heart pounds just a little bit harder.
“We want you,” Marcy finishes, and she opens the notebook on the table– only to reveal that it isn’t a notebook at all, it’s a photobook.
It’s a really, really well made photobook.
“I know it’s not as impressive as Sasha’s fancy, hand-crafted bracelet, but… and you don’t have to say yes, I get it, being pursued when that’s not something you want is awful and I would never willingly do that to you, but I like you a lot, and Sasha likes you a lot, and I think you like us too, and I… we, we want you. With us.” Marcy heaves, and she’s breathless, panting and red-faced.
Anne can only stare at her, eyes wide, the blood rush in her ears almost too much for her to bear. “I… you… both of you?”
Marcy nods. “We both tried to be… less obvious, about it,” she admits, “but I think neither Sasha nor I learned our lesson from a few months ago. We should’ve just told you.”
“I just… you really want me?” Anne blinks, and there are tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as she glances between the breathless Marcy and the quiet Sasha, her breathes coming in quick and needy. “This… that’s what’s been going on? I don’t… you really…?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Sasha grumbles, and she scooches out of her seat, jumping sides so that she can sit next to Anne instead. She reaches one hand out, brushing it against Anne’s cheek, and despite herself, Anne leans into the touch. “Anne, you know I’ve been in love with you for as long as I’ve known you. You also know that I love Marcy. I am not giving Marcy up to be with you or vice versa, I want you both. Can I kiss you?”
Anne manages a jerky little nod, and so Sasha kisses her.
The kiss is… maybe it’s a little silly, calling it everything Anne has ever wanted, but as the touch soothes her nerves and eases her anxieties, she realizes something that she had been forcibly not thinking about earlier: she wants this. Maybe she’s always wanted this, and maybe she’s just never loved herself enough to let herself have it, but if it’s available to her…
…well, what’s stopping her?
Sasha kisses her, and Anne lets it happen, and when Sasha pulls away she’s half-tempted to lean back in and kiss her again because this is everything she’s ever wanted–
–well. Almost.
“Boonchuy, I’ve wanted to do that for at least five years now,” Sasha breathes, and she’s red in the face and smiling and Anne manages a weak little smile at her in return.
“Okay, okay,” Anne inhales, and she glances at Marcy, who is still standing and now leaning on the table, watching them with something distant in her eyes. “But… I can have both of you?”
“We can have each other,” Sasha says, and she scoots out of the booth now, gesturing for Anne to follow her up and out, where Marcy is waiting for them.
“Hi there,” she greets, smiling shyly as Anne steps in front of her. “Uh, I didn’t do a great job at seducing you, I know.”
“You were better than Sasha,” Anne tells her seriously, and they both giggle.
“Hey!” Sasha protests, but they ignore her, too focused on each other.
“Have I ever told you that you have such nice eyes?” Marcy reaches upwards, brushing stray hairs out of Anne’s face. “Happy birthday, Anne.”
“What a birthday present,” Anne snorts, and she bends down, tilting Marcy’s chin up so that she can kiss her.
This, too, is everything she’s ever wanted. Sasha had kissed her passionately, greedily, and Anne’s always loved that fire and that tenacity but there’s something about Marcy that feels like sitting in front of a fire during the winter, or curling up under blankets during a rainstorm– like coming home, as cheesy as it sounds.
Marcy gasps into the kiss, and eventually Anne pulls away, admiring the way her eyes sparkle and her cheeks flush red and her nose twitches. Adorable, she thinks, and this time there is no shame in the thought, because she’s allowed to have this.
“So, what do you say?” Sasha asks, and when Anne glances at her she’s just watching them, no jealousy or anything else in her eyes– just love. “Be our lucky number three, Boonchuy?”
“Okay,” Anne agrees, and she giggles as Marcy curls into her front and Sasha sinks against her back. “Okay, okay, I will, can you get off of me?”
“No,” both girls chorus, and they all laugh.
~~
And life still isn’t perfect. After all, they’re still graduating seniors– but with Marcy going to Cal Arts and Sasha studying psych right here in LA and Anne applying for a local community college, it feels easier to make plans.
Anne still has her moments of doubt, through it all. After all, she’s denied the thought of having romance for herself for so long, it doesn’t quite feel real ; and sometimes, she doesn’t want it to be real, but sometimes she does, and in those moments, Sasha and Marcy are quick to sit at her side and hold her hands just like she’s always wanted.
Nothing really changes, but everything changes, and Anne thinks she’s changed along the way just like Sasha and Marcy have, and it feels… nice, to change.
And, even if it means she’s going to have to endure Sasha’s ridiculously cheesy petnames for the rest of eternity, or Marcy’s quips and bad habits, or anything else that comes with being in love with her best friends…
…she wouldn’t have it any other way.
THE END