Lottie laid on her bed, surrounded by trig worksheets and textbooks and pens and pencils and highlighters one warm Friday afternoon when a sharp rap hit her bedroom door. Trudging over to open it, she found the housekeeper on the other side.
"You're getting a call, Ms. Matthews. This girl says she's Natalie Scatorccio."
"Oh. Yeah. I know her from soccer." Lottie pushed past the woman and down the long flight of stairs, curious. It was unlike Nat to give a shit about her, let alone call at the end of a school week when she no doubt was planning to get up to some debauchery over the weekend.
"What do you want, Natalie?" It came out harsher than she'd like, but she couldn't really bring herself to give a shit.
"Hey, Lottie, you wanna come hang at Emily's tonight? There's gonna be a bonfire and she says there'll be booze. I'll drive if you wanna tag along."
That about stupefied Lottie. "You don't wanna go with Kevin or any of those other emo fuckups you hang out with?"
"Nah, they're busy tonight." Short and to the point. About fit how Nat always talked to her. It didn't take much thought for Lottie to make her decision, though. She was intrigued, for sure, and hell, it's not like she got out much anyway. Her reputation as the neighborhood weird girl tended to precede her, and as an only child it wasn't like she had any siblings to tag along with.
"Yeah, I'll be there. What time?"
"I'll swing by at six forty-five."
"Six forty-five?" she asked, incredulous.
"Yeah I, uh, I gotta meet up with somebody and pick some stuff up." Great, they were hitting up her drug dealer.
"Whatever. Just let me know if you're gonna be late."
{}
Sure enough, it was closer to seven when Nat pulled up in possibly the most beat up pickup Lottie'd ever seen. It was ancient, with the rounded edges of something thirty or forty years old, and it sagged almost to the ground on some old, smooth bald tires. Great, she thought, this won't draw any attention at all. Not like she was ashamed to hang with Nat, shit, they'd played soccer together for probably close to six years, but it wasn't like she had much of a positive reputation either.
"How'd you get your hands on the world's first ever pickup truck?" she joked as she climbed in.
"Shut the fuck up, miss princess and the pea. It's my dad's hunting rig." Lottie thought it was more likely his daily driver, but there was a gun behind the driver's seat, so she held her tongue. "Besides, it's not even that old. It's a nineteen sixty-seven."
"Yeah," she mumbled in lieu of another sarcastic comment. "When the hell does this thing even start? It's still light out."
"Nine," Nat said, putting the truck in drive. Lottie grimaced. Whoever her plug was must live far the fuck out, and she could feel the car seat's springs digging into her ass. Besides, that meant two whole, uninterrupted hours alone with Nat Scatorccio. On top of it all, she was listening to the fucking country station.
They pulled out of the suburbs, onto main street, and then up onto the onramp. Natalie slowly eased the truck out onto the freeway, white-knuckling the steering wheel as she shifted gears. It was obvious she was new to this, and Lottie found herself subconsciously reaching for the oh shit handle, only to find it wasn't there. Great. Maybe the fucking thing would blow up and give her an escape from this Tim Mcgraw-induced hell she was currently experiencing. Next to her, Nat's brow was stuck in a perpetual furrow, and she had to be going ten under at all times.
"Are you gonna drive like this when we get the goods?" Lottie worried the cops would pull them over for suspected drunkenness at any moment, and then they'd both be on the hook for a Minor In Possession. Shit, depending on what Nat was getting, it might not even matter that they were minors. "You're not crossing into New York, are you?"
" 'Course not. Jesus, relax. You can drive on the way back. I'm just picking up some prerolls from this guy Kevin's uncle knows, nothing super illegal."
All of a sudden Lottie flushed and found she'd rather not look to her left. "Well, about that... I've never driven a stick."
Nat guffawed at that, and the truck swerved sharply right. Lottie swallowed hard, gripping the busted seat bottom. "You're serious, you've never driven a stick shift before? Jesus, Lot, what kinda life do you even live?"
"Never had any reason to," Lottie muttered, ears burning, "but I probably could, if I really had to."
"Yeah, right," Nat retorted, and it was a long half hour into the woods after that, only punctuated by guitar riffs and ridiculously over-exaggerated accents. They took an offramp Lottie'd never even heard of and bounced down a rutted dirt road. The supension had to have been about completely shot, and she could feel her brain rattling around in her skull.
"If I get a concussion and have to miss soccer season, I'm killing you, Scatorccio," she complained, but Nat just scoffed.
"Ever heard of lying before? You don't have to treat every little scratch like it's a mortal wound, y'know." That hit some sort of nerve, and Lottie set her jaw in annoyance. Everyone knew the two of them didn't exactly hail from identical backgrounds, but Nat was the one who asked her to come with to start, so why was she entitled to act like an asshole? Lottie's train of thought was interrupted when they screeched to a stop so abruptly she jerked forward. Woulda been awesome if this piece of junk had seatbelts.
They were parked at about a thirty degree angle between the dirt road and somebody's fence, at the intersection of a grass-choked driveway. It was growing dark, and the trees loomed dense and tall all around them. Lottie knew she should be nervous, but something about the situation put her at ease. Maybe it was the rifle jammed behind the seats. Just then, Lottie noticed how it'd been pointing up roughly towards her head this whole time. Just lovely.
"Do you even know how to shoot this thing?" she asked, but her question wasn't justified with an answer. Thanks, asshat.
"Where is this guy?" Nat asked, more to herself than anything, leaning over the steering wheel. Lottie sat back with a huff, thoroughly pissed off now. It would've been ridiculous to do this with someone she liked, let alone a bleach-blonde jerk who hadn't made it all that clear what was in it for her to begin with. The dark was gathering at a rapid pace, and Lottie began to feel just a bit nervous.
"You said Kevin's dad knows him?"
"Uncle. He's a cop, and he told Kevin this guy got busted a while ago, so we know he's got the stuff."
Oh, so they were meeting up with a felon in the woods in the dark, and no one knew they were out here. Lottie simmered unhappily in the passenger seat. After a few more minutes of awkward, impatient silence, a faint light began to shine from deeper within the woods.
"Must be him," Nat moved to get out of the rig.
"Should we bring the gun?" Lottie offered.
"What? Fuck no! We'd scare him off, or he'd call the cops or something, and the whole deal would be done for. What, you're not gonna wait in here?"
"No," Lottie responded forcefully, "if we're not going to take the gun, then we'd better at least have strength in numbers. This fucking dude could murder both of us and they wouldn't find our bodies for months!"
Nat huffed and slammed the door behind her. Lottie hopped up and followed close behind, reluctant to get left behind in these creepy-ass woods. They met the guy, some skinny, graying man in denim overalls, a little ways up the driveway, and his frailty put Lottie at ease, somewhat. They were both varsity soccer players on one of the best teams in the state of New Jersey, so surely they could put one guy on his ass if they had to, right? She stood a ways behind Nat as she haggled the ex-con like some sort of menacing guard dog, backlit by the headlights. Her train of thought got to wandering, and she wondered what kind of dog she would be if she was one. A doberman, she decided, fearsome but gentle enough to be desired by families. Something that didn't quite have the bad rap of a pitbull. That was Nat, always scaring people off in the way she did.
She was roused from her daydreaming when Nat schlepped past her, blunts in hand. "You coming, or you want me to leave you out here with the hillbillies?"
{}
Sitting on a log in some chick's backyard she'd never been to before, Lottie logged this as one of the worst parties she'd ever experienced. There had to have been ten people, tops, and whatever was in her cup tasted like shit, some dark liquid she couldn't identify. At least there was some sort of booze and this Emily bitch hadn't been messing with them. But the worst part was that Nat's sorry ass hadn't even been hanging out with her. She was off passing those blunts around with a couple dudes, joking with all of them in her dudebro way and leaving Lottie to stare blankly off into space, hoping none of the scraggly-bearded guys would come over to talk to her. She wasn't even sure how Nat heard of this thing - they were on the other side of town and she was pretty sure none of these people even went to Wiskayok High. It was a whole-ass bust and her mood only soured as time went on.
At least they weren't playing country. God, she hadn't taken Nat to be such a hillbilly. She supposed it made sense, though, seeing as she lived in a trailer and all. Lottie didn't know much about Nat's personal life, but she did know that, and her, and it was a relief to see her start to head her direction.
Nat was picking her way across the lumpy grass with way too much concentration to have been sober, and as she walked her blunt went out. She stopped in front of Lottie, went in for a hit, and cursed as she realized. Lottie watched her fumble with the lighter and for a moment worried she'd have to get up and light it for her. She was in no mood to help Nat with anything after everything that bitch had dragged her into tonight. The other girl finally got it lit, took a puff, and plopped down next to her, offering.
"I can't," Lottie said, looking at her out of the corner of her eye, "it doesn't work with my meds."
Nat raised an eyebrow, and Lottie stumbled over her words. "My birth control. You know, for my acne and all."
Nat didn't look convinced, but Lottie doubted she gave a fuck about much anything at this point in the night. "More for me."
She was sitting and swaying next to her, and they'd brush shoulders every so often. "This shit sucks, Nat."
"Nah, I think it's great." Nat spoke in a near-mumble, and her words slurred together in an ooze of speech. She was staring off into the fire with a dull look in her eyes that let Lottie know she was tripping balls. After a while, she fixed that gaze on Lottie herself, just staring at her face with a weird sort of intentness that Lottie didn't like one bit. She hunched further over, finished her drink, and tossed the plastic cup into the flames, watching it melt and belch up black smoke.
"Nat, this is fucking weird. Why don't you go over and stare at one of those dickheads instead?"
Nat wouldn't budge, until she suddenly rose, grabbing Lottie forcefully by the upper arm and yanking her off her log and back towards the woods bordering the yard.
"Hey, what the fuck? You're super fucked up, Nat. Don't you think it's time to go home? I think we should head back now."
But Nat just dragged her off until they were standing behind enough trees not to be seen, the firelight casting the dimmest of glows on the brush around them. Much to Lottie's alarm, she leaned in close on unsteady legs, eyes half closed. It was as if she was surrounded by a cloud of foul-smelling intoxicants, but Lottie couldn't focus on anything but the pounding of her own heart. What she asked next nearly had her own knees buckling.
"I really wanna kiss you. Can I kiss you?"
Lottie's eyes had to have been the size of dinner plates, her heart was beating out of her chest, and her breathing seemed short. Of all the ways this night could've ended, she hadn't anticipated this. It was unusual for her to be caught off guard by anything, she was fucking pissed at Nat, and there really wasn't anything to lose anyway - so what if some jerkoffs from a different district thought they'd ditched?
"Sure," she offered lamely, but then Nat was grabbing her arms and resting them loosely around her neck, and leaning in. Lottie had to bend down at an almost severe angle to reach her lips, and when she did she was met with a sloppy, uncoordinated effort from the other girl. Nat's hands reached around her back to pull her closer, and she licked into Lottie's mouth in a way that made spit drip down her chin. It wasn't great, but it was interesting, and not a lot happened to Lottie that was interesting, so she embraced it. Nat was swaying on her feet, and her hands moved to Lottie's hips before she could think to stop them. Her fingers ran along her waistband, and all of a sudden the whole thing was becoming a bit overwhelming.
She grabbed Nat by the forearms, as much to keep her from unbuttoning her skirt as to hold her upright. It wasn't hard to keep her steady, being so much taller and stronger and less intoxicated than she was. Lottie had half a mind to break away, but something told her not to. There was so much more to be explored.
Nat made a small noise, and only then did Lottie realize the force with which she'd been gripping her arms. In the split second after she loosened her grip Nat broke free, reaching up in earnest to unbutton Lottie's shirt, and the gig was up.
Lottie shoved Nat away from herself, then had to grab her by the wrist to keep her from landing on her ass in a half-dead bush. It all hit her at once, then, almost like she was high, the realization that she'd just made out with a girl, one she knew well, and one she'd have to see every single fucking day at soccer practice. She felt like she was going to throw up, but her frantic brain landed on one thing - Nat was way too fucked up to remember anything, or for it to have meant anything. It was extremely clear to Lottie, though, that they had to pick up and get the fuck out of there, immediately.
Nat managed a quiet "what the fuck, Lot," before Lottie shushed her and started pulling her along.
"You're super fucking faded, and I just think we should try to get home."
Slightly panicky at the thought of someone having seen, Lottie looped one of Nat's arms around her neck and started to help her back to the truck like they were Marines, like this was some sort of no-man-left-behind shit. It was insane, but in a way that felt sort of sick and twisted, Lottie loved it. Besides, it wasn't like they were dudes, girls experimented with their friends all the time and no one gave a shit. In a way, it had all worked out. Lottie had been given compensation for being dragged out of her house on a Friday night, Nat wouldn't remember anything the next morning, and it would all become just another never-have-I-ever story. Her stomach flipped to remember the kiss, Nat's hands on her belt and the noise she made, but it didn't mean anything. It really didn't mean anything.
The truck was parked on the side of the house, and they managed to get within a couple dozen feet when Lottie was hit with a realization that stopped her in her tracks. Nat turned to her with a dazed look on her face.
"Nat, I can't get us home. I can't drive a stick."
Nat's mouth started to bloom into a smile. "Well shit, Lot, good thing I came prepared!"
She swung down the tailgate and there was a ratty old blanket, dead leaves all caught in it, and a pillow. Lottie felt her face flush in a way that would've been ridiculous to behold in the daylight. They were gonna have to sleep together in Nat's dad's fucking truck bed, and every indication said that Nat had planned for this.
Despite being completely crossfaded, Nat hopped up with ease and looked back at Lottie with that shit-eating grin she so often wore. It was ridiculous to think that moments ago that mouth had been pressed to hers, and Lottie had liked it. She grimaced in kind and hopped up with her. The bed was hard as shit and ridged in a way that made it completely uncomfortable, but she opted to give Nat the pillow. Unfortunately, the other girl then decided to press right up against her so her breath was tickling Lottie's neck.
"Nat," Lottie warned, though without much force, "what the shit are you doing?"
"It's chilly," she spoke, still slurring, "and we're friends, right? Right? No big deal if we sleep together."
The way she phrased it made Lottie's face go dark again, and she opted to roll away from the other girl, but it was no use. Nat scooted right up next to her, and even had the gall to throw an arm around her waist under the blanket. Lottie sure wasn't gonna move it, though. Fuck it, she thought. She was gonna have a massive headache in the morning, and have to explain to her parents why she'd been out all night, but it would be a good story. Before she could stop herself, she ended up saying,
"We should hang out more. You're fun."
And Nat replied, "Yeah."