Misty Quigley, the school weirdo.
The kind of girl no one wanted. The kind of girl who never once got a Valentine’s card—at least, not until this year.
Because this year, Misty’s Valentine’s folder wasn’t empty.
A single card slipped out onto her desk, causing her already bug eyes to widen further. The card wasn’t homemade—just a cheap, store-bought thing from one of those grocery store packs. But that didn’t matter.
It had her name on it.
Misty’s fingers trembled as she ripped it open.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Misty.”
Next to the words, a small yellow heart.
Signed, Jackie.
Jackie Taylor.
The fresh new team captain of the school’s girls soccer team, the Yellowjackets.
Misty Quigley realized two things that Valentine’s Day:
1: She was going to become a Yellowjacket.
2: She was the kind of girl someone wants.
Jackie has been struggling since the crash. She’s thinner now—thanks to often offering her food to Shauna—The hunger has hollowed out her cheeks, she’s weaker and the cold has stolen the glow from her skin. But to Misty, she’s still perfect.
More than that—she needs help.
No one else seems to see it. Too concerned with themselves.
They whisper behind Jackie’s back. Complain that she doesn’t pull her weight, that she wastes food. Even Shauna has started to pull away.
But Misty?
Misty will help.
She watches for any sign of discomfort or illness in their captain, always right there to nurse her back to health.
“Jackie you’re hurt!”
Jackie glances down at her knee. The scrape is small, barely bleeding. She lets out a short, breathy laugh that angelic laugh. “Misty, it’s fine. I’ve had worse injuries in practice.”
“It could still get infected out here,” Misty insists. “I’ll clean it.”
Jackie sighs but lets her.
Misty works carefully, hands lingering just a little too long.
Jackie is coming back with water from the lake when she notices Misty’s hands.
They’re stained red. Jackie didn’t know if she was more worried at the thought that Misty got hurt—or that she hurt someone.
She’s heard the rumors about the girl.
Her voice is sharp. “Misty, what the hell happened?”
Misty blinks down at them. “Oh. It’s not mine.”
Jackie’s stomach turns, now even more worried that her ladder thought was correct. “Then whose is it?”
Misty just smiles.
“I was helping Shauna butcher the rabbit for dinner,” she says lightly. “I saved you the biggest piece.”
Jackie exhales, a little shaky. “Jesus, Misty. Warn a girl.”
Misty tilts her head.
“You don’t have to worry,” she says softly. “I know how to butcher a lil’ ol’ rabbit.”
Jackie forces a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
The blood is still on Misty’s hands.
Jackie doesn’t like how comfortable she looks with it.
It was during the fight with Shauna that Jackie realized she’s utterly alone out here.
None of her team chose her, they rejected her as their captain. She’s useless baggage.
At least… that’s what she thinks.
Until the cabin door creaks open.
“Jackie, I heard what happened.”
Misty.
She steps closer, voice gentle, unwavering. “I won’t turn on you.”
Jackie swallows. She wants to be relieved yet she can’t help but feel slightly annoyed at the intrusion—she was hoping for someone else.
“Misty…”
“I mean it,” Misty says, voice even softer now. “I’d never hurt you like she did. Like they all do.”
Jackie sighs. “Misty, that’s really sweet, but—”
“I’m here for you, Jackie.” Misty steps closer. “Anything you need.”
Jackie forces a smile.
Misty is just being kind.
Jackie should be more grateful.
But she can’t help but feel she already lost her support system.
Jackie is cold.
It’s a biting, relentless kind of cold that seeps into her bones no matter how tightly she wraps herself in furs.
She doesn’t complain—not out loud. Complaining just gets her glares now.
But Misty notices.
One night, as Jackie curls up near the fire, shivering, she feels something soft and warm drape over her shoulders.
She looks up.
Misty is kneeling beside her, smiling. “You should take my blanket.”
Jackie frowns. “What? No. You need it.”
“I don’t mind,” Misty insists.
Jackie hesitates, glancing around the cabin.
No one else is paying attention.
She doesn’t want to take it from the girl. But she’s so tired. So cold.
“…Okay,” she mutters. “Thanks, Misty.”
Misty beams.
Jackie doesn’t think much of that look in her eyes.
Not yet.
Jackie is mindlessly fixing her hair in the reflection of an icy pot when Misty suddenly appears behind her.
“You should let me do it,” Misty says.
Jackie blinks. “Do what?”
Misty grins. “Your hair.”
Jackie hesitates. “Uh… I don’t know, Shauna used to usually...”
Misty’s smile falters, just slightly.
“Just let me try,” she says, voice light. “You did so good with my makeup, even though you didn’t know my exact melanin density”. Jackie bites her lip.
She misses brushing her hair—or having it done for her. Misses looking like herself.
“…Alright,” Jackie sighs, handing Misty the comb. “Just don’t pull too hard.”
Misty’s eyes light up.
She sits behind Jackie, working slow, careful strokes through the tangles.
Jackie sighs, closing her eyes.
It feels… nice.
She almost forgets where she is. Who this is. Who it’s not.
Almost.
Then she feels Misty’s fingers linger a little too long at the nape of her neck.
She tenses.
Misty quickly pulls back, clearing her throat. “Sorry! Just a little knot.”
Jackie forces a smile. “Right. No big deal.”
She shakes it off.
It’s nothing.
Right?
Jackie tries not to think too much about the way Misty is always there. Always watching. Always helping her, always touching her, always complementing her…
But it’s hard not to notice when it keeps happening.
Again. And again.
“I don’t get why everyone listens to Lottie now,” Misty whispers one night. “You’re the real leader.”
Jackie laughs. It’s short, bitter. “Yeah, well, no one else thinks so.”
“But I do,” Misty says, eyes shining. “I think you’re amazing.”
Jackie smiles, brushing it off yet again, but something about Misty’s expression lingers.
Something too intense.
…giving her gifts…
Jackie wakes up to something prickly on her pillow.
She blinks, groggy, fingers brushing over the texture of small, dried flowers.
Jackie frowns.
Flowers? In the middle of winter?
She sits up, glancing around the cabin. Everyone is asleep.
Almost everyone.
Across the room, Misty is watching her.
Jackie holds up the flowers. “Where’d you get these?”
Misty smiles. “I found them a few weeks ago, before the snow really hit. Thought they’d cheer you up.”
Jackie hesitates, then smiles back.
“That’s… really sweet,” she admits. “Thanks.”
Misty’s face lights up.
“You like them?” she asks, too eagerly.
Jackie shrugs, tucking the flowers beside her bedroll. “Yeah. It’s nice to get something pretty.”
Misty nods, pleased.
Jackie doesn’t see the way Misty’s eyes flicker to the flowers like they’re a promise.
She’s just glad Misty isn’t staring at her again.
For now.
…sleeping with her…
It’s one of the worst nights yet. The coldest they’ve endured.
And Jackie can’t stop shaking.
Her fingers feel like ice.
She barely notices Misty slipping into her bedroll until she feels warm arms wrapping around her.
Jackie jerks. “Misty—”
“You’re freezing,” Misty murmurs. “We need to share body heat. It’ll help.”
Jackie stiffens.
But Misty is warm.
And Jackie is so, so cold.
Shauna has been sleeping by Tai.
Jackie has been in a corner by herself, until now.
She forces herself to relax.
“…Fine,” she mutters.
Misty smiles against her shoulder.
Jackie doesn’t fully feel the way Misty’s lips press against it.
Jackie wakes up warm.
For the first time since the snow fell, she isn’t shivering. There’s heat pressed all along her back, arms wrapped too tightly around her waist.
It takes a second to remember—Misty.
Jackie tenses.
Misty’s breath is warm against her neck. Her grip isn’t just close—it’s tight. One of her hands is clutching Jackie’s like a lifeline, fingers intertwined.
Jackie slowly shifts, trying to pull away.
Misty makes a soft noise, tightening her hold even more.
Jackie’s breath catches.
“Don’t go,” Misty murmurs, still half-asleep. “You need warmth.”
Jackie freezes.
Her pulse pounds. Misty’s voice is too soft. Too intimate.
It’s not normal.
Jackie forces a laugh. “Yeah, well, body heat works. But it’s morning now, so—”
She shoves Misty’s arms off. Not too hard. But enough.
Misty blinks awake, looking at her with something like hurt. Like a kicked poodle.
Jackie forces herself to act casual.
“I gotta pee,” she mutters, already knowing the bucket is full and not wanting to change it, she grabs her coat. She doesn’t look back as she steps outside.
When Jackie steps outside, she’s hugging her jacket tight. The cold is sharp, bracing, real.
She still feels the ghost of Misty’s arms around her, the press of her breath against her neck.
Jackie shudders—from the cold, she tells herself.
She moves far enough away from the cabin to pee, knees wobbling from both the freezing air and the uneasy weight in her chest.
She’s barely finished pulling her pants up when she hears it—the crunch of snow behind her.
Jackie’s shoulders snap up. She whirls around, expecting to see Misty.
Instead, it’s Shauna.
Jackie goes still.
Shauna hesitates, just a few feet away. The angle of the trees casting long shadows over her face.
Neither of them speaks.
Jackie should say something. She’s been waiting for Shauna to say something.
But now, standing here, face-to-face after so much silence, she doesn’t know what she wants to hear.
So she just sniffs, folding her arms. “What, are you following me now?”
Shauna rolls her eyes. “Yeah, because I really missed you that much Jackie.”
Jackie scoffs, looking away. Shauna should miss her. She should & shouldn’t have done a lot of things.
Shauna shifts her weight, arms tucked close for warmth.
Something is there, in her face. Not quite regret. Not quite anger, either.
Jackie doesn’t know what to do with it.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” Shauna mutters. “It’s freezing.”
Jackie lets out a bitter laugh.
“Oh, don’t worry,” she says. “Misty’s got me covered.”
She doesn’t mean for it to come out like that—sharp, uneasy, bitter, flaunting.
But it does.
Shauna’s brows furrow. “Misty?”
Jackie waves a hand, like it’s nothing. “Yeah. She’s been really… attentive lately.”
Something about the way Shauna looks at her then makes Jackie’s stomach twist.
Like she’s seeing something Jackie isn’t ready to.
After a beat, Shauna just says, “You coming back in?”
Jackie exhales, glancing toward the cabin. She knows if she walks in now, Misty will be waiting.
Watching.
Jackie swallows. “In a minute.”
Shauna lingers for half a second more before nodding and heading inside.
Jackie doesn’t follow.
She just stares down at the snow, heart pounding, telling herself it’s just from the cold.
Letting herself get lost in the empty white color.
Misty has been watching Jackie—not watching her pee, of course, she turned away for most of that.
When someone else steps into view.
Misty stiffens.
Shauna.
A rush of heat flares in Misty’s chest, flashing hot, then icy.
She can’t hear what they’re saying, but it doesn’t matter.
It’s Shauna.
Again.
Shauna, who hurt Jackie. Shauna, who abandoned her.
And yet, there she is, standing too close, still thinking she has the right to talk to her.
To take her away.
Misty grips her shirt so hard her knuckles ache.
Jackie was with her tonight. Misty had taken care of her, kept her warm, held her.
Jackie needed her.
But now, Shauna is out there. With her.
And Jackie isn’t walking away.
Misty’s pulse pounds in her ears.
She watches as Shauna turns back toward the cabin, Jackie lingering.
Why isn’t she coming in?
Jackie doesn’t want to go inside yet.
Misty sees that thoughtful look Jackie gets when she’s deciding on soccer plays. She’s thinking about something.
Or maybe… someone.
Misty lets out a slow breath.
Maybe Jackie is thinking about her.
How warm it was, how safe she felt, how much she liked being held.
She’ll come in soon.
And Misty will be right there waiting. But until then she’ll just watch.
Jackie is curled up near the fire, she had fallen asleep.
Misty is sitting beside her, watching her sleep, touching her hair.
Not brushing it. Not fixing it.
Just stroking it.
Shauna sees Jackie’s fingers twitch.
A tiny movement. A flinch.
Like some part of Jackie knows something is wrong. Even in her sleep.
Shauna steps forward.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Misty’s head jerks up.
“Shauna?”
Shauna’s eyes are on Misty. “I asked you a question.”
Misty blinks, smiling. “Oh. Jackie likes it.”
Shauna tenses.
Misty tilts her head, like she doesn’t understand. Like Shauna is the weird one.
“She lets me, I’ve been doing her hair” Misty says simply.
“While she’s asleep?” Shauna glares.
Misty reluctantly stops and meets Shauna’s glare.
“Goodnight, Shauna”
Outside, the wind is brutal, but Shauna barely notices.
Jackie crosses her arms, wanting to make a remark about how Shauna is pervy for always being there when she’s peeing, but she doesn’t have the energy. “What, Shauna?”
Shauna takes a breath. Doesn’t sugarcoat it.
“Misty is obsessed with you.”
Jackie rolls her eyes. “Oh my God, not this. Jealous much?”
Shauna huffs. She’s not jealous that Jackie has a new bff or whatever—she’s concerned. “I’m serious, Jackie. She’s always there. She’s always—touching you. And you let her.”
Jackie bristles. “She’s been nice to me. What do you care?”
Shauna’s chest tightens. “I care because it’s not normal. And I think you know that.”
Jackie exhales sharply. “She’s not obsessed, Shauna. She’s just—”
She hesitates.
Because what is she supposed to say?
That Misty comforted her after their fight?
That she let Misty hold her when she was too cold to care?
That Misty might make her a bit uneasy but at least she’s there for her?
Jackie shakes her head. “You’re being dramatic.”
Shauna’s jaw clenches. “Jackie, just listen to me—”
“No, you listen.” Jackie steps closer. “Not everyone here hates me. Misty actually gives a shit about me. Maybe that bothers you, but I don’t care.”
Shauna grits her teeth. “Jackie, she doesn’t just ‘care.’ She—”
Jackie cuts her off.
“I’m done talking about this.”
She turns and walks back toward the cabin.
Shauna watches her go, frustration burning in her chest.
She knows Jackie sees it. But she won’t admit it.
Not yet. Not until it’s too late.
Misty had been out there too—gathering some twigs for Mari’s breakfast stew. She had heard the accusatory words out of Shauna’s mouth. But what really stuck with her was the way Jackie defended her from them.
The care in Jackie’s voice that was for her.
Shauna’s pulse picks up when she nearly walked into Misty on her way back to the cabin.
“Misty,” she says carefully.
Misty tilts her head. “You really don’t like me, do you?”
Shauna exhales. “I don’t trust you.”
Misty’s smile widens. “That’s okay. Jackie does.”
Shauna’s stomach tightens.
Misty leans in, voice too soft.
“She doesn’t believe you,” Misty whispers. “She thinks you’re just jealous.”
Shauna tenses. “I’m not—”
“I don’t blame you.” Misty’s voice is so gentle, so rehearsed. “You had her first. But she’s mine now.”
Shauna’s breath catches.
Misty leans back, still smiling.
“Almost breakfast time” she waves the twigs and heads inside.
The moment Jackie finds the old Valentine tucked into Misty’s bedroll, her stomach drops.
She stares at it, running her thumb over the faded paper. The edges are soft, worn down, like someone has touched them constantly.
Jackie barely remembers giving it to Misty.
But Misty never forgot.
Jackie glances up, uneasy, and finds Misty watching her.
“You kept this?” Jackie asks, trying to sound casual.
Misty nods, smiling. “Of course.”
Jackie lets out a breathy laugh. “Wow. That’s… crazy.”
Misty tilts her head. “Crazy?”
Jackie hesitates, she regretted her wording. “Not you I just mean wow—barely even remember giving it to you.” She feels like her foot is halfway down her throat.
Misty’s smile flickers. “But you did. You gave it to me.”
Jackie nods quickly, sensing a shift in Misty’s mood. “Yeah. I did.”
Misty smiles again. “And it meant something.”
Something cold settles in Jackie’s gut.
“Yeah.. it was really sweet that you kept it Misty”
Sweet. Misty replays the word over and over in her mind. Jackie keeps calling her that. Jackie thinks she’s sweet…
…Jackie thinks she’s funny…
Misty remembers telling some stupid joke—something about Coach Ben being secretly in love with Nat.
And Jackie laughed.
A real, genuine laugh.
Misty didn’t expect that reaction—she was half-serious after all—but still she beams. Jackie’s laugh is so holy, Laura Lee would’ve probably labeled her a false prophet.
…Jackie wants her…
Misty remembers the Valentine’s Day card like a prayer. A sign from the universe, a promise. Jackie had chosen her.
And Misty had proven herself worthy. She became a Yellowjacket, she fought to be closer, to be useful, to be needed.
Now, in the wreckage of their lives, Jackie needs her more than ever. Misty made that happen.
Misty sees it when Jackie shivers, when she presses her hands together to warm them, she needs Misty’s warmth.
And when she looks at Shauna like she’s drowning.
Misty knows Shauna isn’t going to save her.
She will.
And inside Jackie knows it too.
She must.
Why else would she let Misty touch her, brush her hair, hold her through the night?
How else would she make her laugh and keep her warm?
Jackie likes it. Jackie likes her.
Even if she doesn’t say it.
But she says Misty’s sweet. And that’s all the confirmation Misty needs to hear.
Jackie is so sick of this.
It’s bad enough that everyone has turned on her—ignoring her, muttering about her, acting like she’s dead weight.
But now? Now Mari is complaining about the damn pee bucket?
“It’s disgusting, Jackie,” Mari snaps, arms crossed as she stands near the bucket like it personally offended her. “You’re the one who’s like, never dumped it. So it’s well past your turn”
Jackie’s hands clench into fists. “Seriously? But I ‘like, never’ use it!”
Mari shrugs. “Yeah, well, you haven’t done much else, so…”
Jackie feels the eyes on her. Some of the girls agree with Mari. Others—like Shauna—just look away.
It’s not worth fighting.
With a huff, she grabs the bucket, the warm, rancid liquid sloshing against the sides, and storms toward the door.
Before she can even step outside, a chirpy voice cuts through the tension.
“I’ll go with you!”
Jackie stops.
Of course.
Of course Misty would volunteer to accompany her on this humiliating little chore.
Jackie exhales, exhausted. “You really don’t have to.”
Misty smiles. “I don’t mind!”
Jackie doesn’t argue.
They walk in silence, the snow crunching beneath their feet, the bitter cold biting through Jackie’s coat.
The cliff isn’t too far. But it’s far enough away for Jackie’s legs to feel like they’re going to freeze off. Misty however, actually looks happy to be there. Walking alongside Jackie in the frostbite inducing cold.
Jackie exhales, staring down at the icy drop as she sets the bucket down.
She’s put this off long enough. She should’ve listened to Shauna sooner. To her gut.
She turns to Misty, arms crossed, steeling herself.
“Misty… I know.”
Misty blinks. “Know what?”
Jackie sighs. “That you have… some sort of.. feelings for me.”
Misty doesn’t even try to deny it.
Instead, she smiles.
“I do,” she says simply. “I think you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met.”
Jackie’s breath catches. She expected awkward denial, maybe defensiveness or even anger—it is the 90s after all. But Misty’s voice is steady, confident.
Misty takes a small step closer.
“Jackie, I know you’ve been struggling. I see how they treat you, how Shauna abandoned you. But I haven’t.” Her eyes shine with something raw, desperate, reverent. “I never will.”
Jackie swallows hard. She knew this conversation would be uncomfortable, but the sheer intensity of Misty’s words makes her stomach twist.
“I… Misty, that’s really sweet, but…” She sighs, trying to be gentle. “I don’t feel the same way.”
Misty freezes.
For a moment, the only sound is the wind howling through the trees.
Jackie waits, bracing herself. For Misty to cry, get upset, something.
Instead, Misty lets out a small, breathy laugh.
“You don’t mean that,” she whispers, shaking her head. “I know you care about me, too. You let me hold you. You let me keep you warm. You let me in. You gave me your feelings in that card”
Jackie takes a step back.
“Misty, I—”
“You don’t have to be scared,” Misty reaches for her. “I’ll always take care of you, Jackie. I—”
Jackie pulls away.
“Misty, stop,” she says, firmer this time.
“It was just a Valentine”
Misty shakes her head quickly, sharply. “No. No, it was more than that. You meant it.”
Jackie takes another step back. “Misty…”
Misty’s eyes soften, pleading now. “We should take care of each other. We could be… close.”
Misty isn’t getting it.
“That’s not what this is. I—God, I was just being nice. I didn’t want you to feel alone—I didn’t want to be alone, but that doesn’t mean—”
Misty interrupts, stepping closer. “I know you’re scared, because Shauna hurt you, and everyone else turned their backs on you, and you don’t know who to trust anymore, but—”
Her fingers graze Jackie’s wrist.
Jackie instinctively pulls back again.
Misty freezes.
Something in her eyes flicker—just for a second.
Jackie exhales. “Misty, please. I just—I don’t want you to waste your energy on me, okay? You deserve someone who actually feels the same way.”
Misty stares at her.
Like she’s waiting for Jackie to take it back.
Like this is just another one of Jackie’s mistakes—one Misty is willing fix.
But Jackie doesn’t. So Misty can’t.
So something in Misty snaps.
Her eyes go wet, wild. “No, no, you don’t—” She steps closer, hands reaching out, voice rising. “You don’t mean that, Jackie, you just don’t see it yet—”
Jackie steps back. “Misty, stop—”
And suddenly there was a scream. Misty didn’t know where it came from until she realized Jackie wasn’t in front of her anymore. She had fallen.
Misty had just reached out to try and hug her, that’s all she did…
Jackie lies in a crumpled heap at the base of the cliff, limbs bent at angles that don’t look right, hair splayed around her like a golden brown halo.
Misty’s chest seizes.
For a moment, she just stares.
Her mind refuses to accept what she’s looking at.
Then she’s moving—stumbling forward, dropping to her knees beside Jackie’s broken body.
“Jackie,” she tries, gently shaking her shoulder. “Come on, you’re okay. You’re okay.”
Jackie doesn’t move.
Misty feels something crack inside her.
Her breathing turns ragged, uneven.
“No, no, no, no—”
She presses both hands to Jackie’s chest. Maybe she can—maybe if she just—
But Jackie’s ribs are wrong. Beneath the tattered layers of her coat, something feels too sharp, too shattered.
Misty pulls her hands back like she’s been burned.
She suddenly has blood on her hands, Jackie looks butchered with the red staining the snow around her.
This isn’t happening.
This can’t be happening.
Jackie was supposed to fall in love with her, not to her death.
Misty just sits there, legs going limp, staring into red.
All Misty wanted was for Jackie to see her. Really see her the way she saw Jackie.
But all Jackie saw in her was a sweet treat, a pleasure to indulge in before going back to her regular diet. But it was too late, Jackie’s teeth had already rotted.
The cabin is silent.
The kind of silence that settles deep, that presses down, that doesn’t lift.
The fire has burned low, casting flickering shadows along the wooden walls. Everyone is in their own world—too hungry, too exhausted, too consumed by the cold to speak.
Shauna can’t move.
Can’t blink.
Can’t breathe.
Jackie is gone. “Missing”.
Her hands tremble as she reaches into the pocket of her coat, fingers brushing against crumpled paper.
A Valentine’s card.
Jackie gave it to her a couple years ago.
It’s still in good condition despite being in the wilderness. Shauna took good care of her books and that’s what she considered this. Words that kept her up at night.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Shauna.”
“I don’t say it enough, but you’re my favorite person. I’d be lost without you.”
Shauna closes her eyes.
Her chest aches.
Jackie had been lost—and Shauna let her go.
Shauna presses the card to her chest, as if that can bring Jackie back.
As if that can undo what’s been done.
Tears blur her vision, but she doesn’t wipe them away.
She just sits there, frozen, holding on to the only piece of Jackie she has left.
She knows she didn’t just go missing—Misty Fucking Quigley, she’ll take care of her soon—but right now she just needs to mourn.
Butchering Misty will have to wait until her mind is done carving her own heart out of her chest and squishing it. It’s what she deserves. What Misty deserves.
Her and Quigley were never Jackie’s knights, never her protectors.
Combined they were like the big bad dragon who charred the princess’s skin off.