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Chapter one, Things with teeth
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Sometimes, Bonnie wondered if Jackie was even real.
She has this look about her— too golden, too symmetrical— like something from a catalog that never gets smudged or folded. When Bonnie pictured her, it's was always in fragments: the slope of her neck when she's tying her hair back. The gloss on her bottom lip. The white blur of her sneakers when she's running drills. She didn't come together all at once. She's more of a feeling than a person. Like sunlight through a window you're not allowed to open.
Bonnie dreamed about her often. What it would be like to kiss her and not have Jackie pull away a second later, to hold her like she was hers. But that was wishful thinking, and Bonnie was never one to push for what she wanted. She knew there were lines she couldn't cross because if she did, if she were bold, then she'd lose everything.
Jackie is the only soft thing Bonnie let herself have.
Which is why she kept quiet. Kept her quiet. Jackie doesn't belong in her world, the one where affection is a liability, where girls like her end up rumors or jokes or worse. Jackie was bright and beautiful and destined, and Bonnie wasn't.
Still.
She couldn't help the way she needed her.
The smell of lavender and nail polish remover filled Bonnie's nose as she sat on the edge of Jackie's floral comforter, hunched slightly. She wore a red tank top, plaid pajama pants, and mismatched ankle socks. Her dark hair was tucked behind her one ear, exposing a silver stud Jackie had brought her for Christmas last year.
Jackie was sat in front of her vanity, digging through the drawers. Her movements were precise, and her lip was caught between her teeth, the way it always was when she was focused.
"You look like you're thinking really hard about something," Jackie said, pulling out a small velvet box.
Bonnie startled slightly. She hadn't realized she was staring. "Just tired," which wasn't a lie, but not exactly the full truth either.
