Jackie could’ve fixed this. The thought ran through Nat’s mind on a loop, like a broken record; a painful reminder of what could’ve been if things had been different. Jackie wouldn’t have let Mari and Shauna fight like she did, she’d have the pair wrapped around her finger. She’d be able to make them apologise in minutes — Jackie had always been persuasive before the crash. It had irritated Nat, but now she just found herself missing it — they wouldn’t mean a word they’d say, but she’d be satisfied, and they wouldn’t fight again. No one would even be able to tell they ever had. That was Jackie’s effect on people; it was an effect Nat knew she’d never have, especially not on the Yellowjackets.
She still couldn’t figure out why Lottie had chosen her as their queen. It didn’t make sense. There were better choices. She’d said it was the wilderness's choice, but Nat doubted that. Maybe Lottie —along with the rest of the Yellowjackets— believed in that shit, but Nat didn't. Lottie had just cracked under the pressure. Nat was sure she’d crack too. It was only a matter of time.
Their faith in her was already dwindling. It had been for weeks, she was sure of it. Her mind drifted back to Jackie once again. After all, she’d been their captain. If she was Jackie, she could’ve regained their trust, possibly even strengthened it. Even when the team had doubted her, Jackie had never seemed to falter. That unwavering confidence of hers was another thing Nat wished she had. She could be tough, but that was it. It was only an act.
It wasn’t the first time she’d found herself jealous of Jackie Taylor, she knew it wouldn’t be the last either. In her defence, who wasn’t somewhat jealous of her? It was hard not to be. Jackie had been perfect. She had been everything Nat couldn’t be, everything she wished she could be. In a sense, she still was.
It was cruel that, even in death, Jackie had still found ways to make Nat wish they could trade places.
“Seriously, Nat. It’s not my fault you’re fucked up.” A voice laced thickly with condescension cut through her thoughts. She recognised it almost immediately, it’d been months since she’d last heard it, but it was hard to forget something so memorable.
Nat didn’t look at her, keeping her gaze fixed anywhere but the source of the voice. Maybe, if she didn’t look, she’d go away. This sentiment seemed to amuse her, she could hear her stifling a laugh from the other side of the hut. Her chest tightened with a familiar sense of unease, her heart thrumming fervently against her ribs. This was it, her breaking point, she was sure of it. Her own descent into wilderness-patented madness.
“Looking up wouldn’t kill you, y’know.” She laughed, the sound was almost seraphic, even though she was mocking her. She was right, it wouldn’t.
Despite herself, she glanced in her direction. Wide hazel eyes stared back at her, gleaming with satisfaction. She looked as perfect as she ever had, almost hauntingly so, forever frozen in time. Her lips were pursed, as if surveying what she saw, sizing Nat up; she felt small under her gaze. That wasn't a surprise, she always had.
“You look like shit.” Jackie hummed, swallowing a snicker.
“Fuck you, Jackie.” She muttered, gritting her teeth as she did. It’s not like Jackie was wrong, she was sure she did, that didn’t stop her from being offended though.
She smiled at that, it was contagious. For a moment, it felt natural, to be here in the middle of the fucking wilderness, bickering with Jackie fucking Taylor. Then, her smile dissipated in seconds, and her brows furrowed.
“It’s hard to be me, isn’t it, burnout?” She’d believe she was being sympathetic — in some strange, Jackie-like way — if it wasn’t for the anger her tone held. She sounded bitter. It had never seemed hard, at least it hadn't to Nat until she’d been forced into the same position. To her, it had seemed natural, as if Jackie had simply been born to lead them.
“They’re going to turn on you, just like they did to me.” She chided, she had a look in her eyes that Nat recognised. It was the same way she’d look at them during the half-time of a particularly miserable match. She vaguely remembered Jackie giving the same look to Allie at States.
“I can take it.” Her voice came out more confidently than she’d expected it to. Despite that, Jackie didn't seem to believe it, she tutted at her, gaze hardening.
“They’ll find out about Coach eventually, you know that right?” She looked sombre, staring at Nat with furrowed brows. She was right, of course she was, because Jackie Taylor was always fucking right. Nat grimaced at the thought. She knew they'd find out, no matter how long she tried to hold it off. Now, with their faith in her as a leader withering, it was only a matter of time until they realized she was lying. She didn't want to think of what they'd do when they found him.
There was a moment of pointed silence, the tension between them palpable. Jackie stared at her, gaze fixed. She felt her heartbeat quicken.
“I thought you'd be better at this,” Jackie sighed, brows knitted together. “I don't know what I expected from you.”
She wasn't sure why the words made her chest feel heavy or why the notion that she'd disappointed Jackie stung so badly. Her eyes burned in response.
Nat opened her mouth to say something — anything, really. Before she could decide on what, the words had already died in her throat. Jackie's gaze had wandered away from hers, settling on her neck.
“Is that my necklace?” She laughed, the sound was soothing, melodic. She seemed softer now. Her earlier malice melted away in seconds at the sight of the trinket. The answer was obvious, of course it was. She grinned, leaning closer and taking the charm between her fingers. Her hand ghosted over Nat’s neck as she did, the touch lacking any warmth it may have held before. For a few seconds, she stayed silent, staring at the heart-shaped pendant fondly before her gaze snapped back to Nat’s.
“It suits you.” She mused, her voice quiet. Silence fell over them once again, it was almost comforting this time. At least it would've been if Nat wasn't painfully aware of how close they'd gotten. Her gaze darted to Jackie’s mouth and — just for a second — she had wanted to lean in, to close the distance between them. She's sure Jackie’s noticed it, but she didn't object, her own lips parted in response to the attention. For a brief moment, she’d let herself believe it, shutting her eyes and tilting forward. There's no contact, she couldn't trick herself into feeling Jackie’s lips brush against hers.
It took a moment for Nat to snap out of her Jackie Taylor-induced haze — to realize how insane she must've been. She pulled back, tugging the pendant from Jackie’s hand as she does. Jackie hummed, the sound laced with discontent. Everything in her urged her to lean back in, to try again. Instead, she had clamped her eyes shut, ignoring the soft scoff the action prompted.
She hadn't known how long she’d waited to open them again but when she finally had, she'd been alone. Jackie was gone. She’d laid down, forcing her eyes shut once again. This time, there was silence. She urged her mind to focus on anything but Jackie and for the first time in weeks, it worked.