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Shauna watches Allie’s slideshow of her dead teammates with disinterest. She knew going into this that she’d have to listen to Ally's speech about togetherness and community and how everyone is a Yellowjacket at heart, but it didn’t make her any more happy to actually hear it. Tai and Nat clearly share her annoyance, both of them with I can’t believe she’s up there saying this plastered on their faces. Shauna's eyes, desperate to look away from the shitshow on stage, land on Misty.
Unsurprisingly, Misty doesn’t have the same disdain as the other women. If anything, she’s looking at the display fondly. Shauna hadn’t seen Misty in person in maybe 20 years (she’s sure if she asked Misty, she’d give the exact year, month, day, and hour they last saw each other) until she showed up in Adams apartment ready to hack a body apart, even before Shauna explained why she’d done it. Misty has the obvious signs of age they all have in their 40s, but if anything, she looks the youngest of them all. Shauna wonders if she’s lost any sleep at all over what happened out there.
She allows herself to watch Misty for a while longer; she’ll live if she doesn’t hear everything Allie has to say. Her eyes rake up and down the black dress she’s wearing; it’s tight, but her chest is hidden by a blazer that puffs up her still unintimidating five-foot form. This isn’t the most interesting thing about her outfit, though; what is interesting is the golden heart necklace resting on her clavicle. Shauna bites the inside of her cheek as she tries to imagine Misty picking it out; Oh, this would be a fun reminder of the wilderness! she imagines her thinking, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Her make up looks… good, surprisingly. Her red lips stand out most to Shauna; had she chosen that herself? Shauna feels herself lick her own lips and she observes her.
When Allie says something that must’ve been a joke based on the extremely scattered laughter in the crowd, Misty elbows Nat gently and whispers something to her that makes Nat smirk. Shauna's brain springs a question for the ages onto her: Is Misty Quigley a lesbian? It had, shockingly, never crossed Shauna's mind before. Misty was into Coach Ben in the wilderness, so Shauna assumed that Misty had a new man that was wholly disinterested in her. But she’s not married, she doesn’t have a date, and she's leaning up towards Nat so she can whisper her another comment.
Shauna hasn’t had a woman since the wilderness. She tried before Melissa killed herself; there was awkward touching and kissing before they both backed away. It didn’t feel right back in society. Even now, she can’t imagine having sex with another woman without there being dirt and blood and cannibalism involved. She wonders how Misty does it; how does she do what she wants, unclouded by her past? When she feeds her elderly patients their pain medication, does she get sick at the thought of Coach Ben? Does she think of killing that stupid little pigeon in her house in case of a food shortage? Maybe she does, Shauna concludes. Maybe she doesn’t mind it.
Her eyes follow Misty's nail as it traces the rim of her shot glass and she momentarily wonders what it would be like to have sex with her. She imagines going to Misty's lonely little house and thanking her for helping with Adam. She would finger Misty in whatever room her parrot wasn’t allowed in and forget that they’re both forty-year-old women; instead, she’d be her seventeen-year-old self again, hundreds of miles away from civilization and starving. She’d tear the golden heart necklace off her and Shauna would be back in Canada, happier than she’s ever been, happier than when she got into Brown or on her wedding day or when Callie was born. And Misty would come. And Misty would understand.
Tai's heel taps Shauna's leg under the table, tearing her from her deprived train of thought. She finally pulls her eyes away from Misty to look at Tai, who raises an eyebrow: everything okay? Shauna nods and grips her dress under the table. She doesn’t look back at Misty. No one could ever understand.