Brain Stew
It starts because someone’s bored.
Maybe Van. Maybe Mari. Maybe they all are.
The fire’s burning low and everyone’s just a little too buzzed—warm booze and too much air and not enough music. Someone’s phone died. Travis is trying to start a fight with Nat and failing. Tai’s balancing a cup on her knee and not listening.
“Let’s play spin the bottle,” Van says, and it’s not a question.
There’s a pause. Jackie snorts. “What are we, twelve?”
“Do you have a better idea?” Van asks. “Besides sitting around pretending we’re not all about to fall asleep in the dirt?”
“I’m not about to fall asleep,” Mari says, like that matters.
“I’m not kissing Travis,” Nat says.
“No one asked you to,” Tai replies, half-laughing.
They clear space in the pine needles. Misty volunteers a bottle from her backpack—glass, real, surprisingly clean. Lottie passes it to Van.
They don’t look at each other when they start.
⸻
Shauna’s sitting close to the fire, hoodie sleeves over her hands, eyes down. She hasn’t said much tonight. Not since she got here. Not since she saw Jackie already posted up with Mari and grinning like it didn’t matter, like it never happened.
Jackie hasn’t looked at her. Not really.
But Shauna feels her looking. Every time.
The bottle spins. Kisses happen. Some awkward. Some for show. Tai kisses Van like she means it. Nat kisses Lottie and Lottie just laughs afterward and takes a drink like it’s nothing.
And then it’s Jackie’s turn.
She doesn’t say anything. Just leans forward, spins, sits back. Confident. Careless. Or pretending to be.
Shauna watches the bottle slow.
She already knows where it’s going to land.
Of course it lands on her.
And then everything is too quiet.
Jackie laughs. Too fast. Too big.
“Oh my god, no. Ew. She’s like my sister.”
That lands hard. Harder than anyone expects.
Nat looks away. Tai clears her throat.
Shauna doesn’t say anything. She just stares at Jackie.
Jackie won’t meet her eyes.
“I’m kidding,” Jackie adds, but no one laughs.
“Sure,” Shauna says. Her voice sounds calm, but her throat is tight. “Whatever.”
Jackie opens her mouth like she wants to say more.
Doesn’t.
That’s when Lottie moves.
“Jesus,” she mutters, standing. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
Shauna turns, startled. “What—”
Lottie steps into the circle, kneels in front of Shauna. There’s a flicker of something—daring, maybe. Or defiance. Maybe kindness. Maybe cruelty. Shauna can’t tell.
Lottie leans in and kisses her.
It’s not soft. It’s not fake.
Shauna doesn’t move at first.
Then she does.
Her hand tightens on her cup. Her eyes close.
It lasts too long.
When Lottie pulls away, she smiles a little. “There. Problem solved.”
The silence afterward is loud.
Jackie’s not smiling.
Shauna wipes her mouth on her sleeve, not looking at anyone. “Cool,” she says. “Great game.”
She gets up, walks into the trees, out of the firelight.
No one follows.
Jackie watches her go.
Doesn’t say a word.