Beyond the Bleachers

The house was already alive when Lingling’s car pulled up.

Bass thumped so loud it rattled the windows. A line of students spilled down the front steps, drinks in hand, glowsticks wrapped around wrists, laughter sharp and chaotic.

Milk climbed out first. “Holy shit, it’s packed.”

Oom whistled low. “Alice did not come to play.”

Lingling adjusted her hoodie over her cropped tank top and slid on a ball cap low, but it didn’t help.

“KWONGGGGGGGG!!!” someone screamed from across the lawn.

A group surged toward her, phones out, trying to get selfies. Some were genuine fans. Others? Just thirsty.

She smiled, polite but distant, pushing through the bodies.

“Get me a drink,” Oom shouted. “You owe me for that touchdown high!”

Ling just waved her off and kept walking.

Inside, the place looked like a music video—lights pulsing neon pink and purple, balloons stuck to the ceiling, the kitchen already wrecked. Someone was DJing from the living room. There were people dancing on the counters.

Lingling should’ve been overwhelmed.

But she wasn’t.

Because the only thing she was looking for—was Orm.

Orm was in the middle of the party, dancing with Kary and a few other cheerleaders, drink in hand, smile just a little too bright.

Her black crop top hugged her perfectly, and her hair was down now—wild and soft and everything Ling hadn’t seen under stadium lights.

She was glowing.

Someone had spilled glitter across her chest and collarbones. Orm didn’t bother wiping it off.

She didn’t need to. She was already shining.

But when she turned—and saw Lingling walk in?

The world paused.

Her body stopped moving.
Her lips parted.
And the drink in her hand trembled—just a little.

Lingling froze, too.

Their eyes locked across the chaos.

There were people shouting, jumping, throwing things into the pool behind them. A girl fell off the couch with a laugh. Someone was crowd-surfing. The DJ yelled something about “another body shot round.”

But none of it mattered.

It was just Orm and Ling.

And the weight of everything unsaid between them.

Orm didn’t move.

Lingling did.

Through the crowd. Slow. Steady. Like she belonged there. 

The music thumped like a second heartbeat.

Bodies moved around them—drinks spilling, lights flashing, someone screaming the lyrics to a song no one even knew. But Orm only saw her.

Lingling, standing too close.

Too confident.

Too obvious.

Ling’s breath was warm against her ear when she whispered, “You look better than I remember.”

Orm turned, slow, lips already curled into a smirk that didn’t reach her eyes—not because she didn’t want this, but because she wanted it too much.

And so, in a voice low and sharp like the edge of a knife, she said—

“I thought we wanted to keep this a secret. And the first thing you do is walk straight to me?”

Ling didn’t flinch.

Instead, her smirk deepened. “I couldn’t help it. My body was drawn to you. But maybe I was aiming someone else”

Orm raised an eyebrow. “You walked through this party like it was a straight line. And I was the end of it.”

Ling leaned in, her mouth barely brushing Orm’s ear. “Because you are.”

Orm sucked in a breath, her lashes fluttering.

Kary blinked at them from the side. “Do I… leave? Or…?”

“Yeah,” Orm muttered, eyes never leaving Ling. “You leave.”

Kary raised her hands. “Yup. Got it. Gone.”

She disappeared into the crowd.

Ling and Orm were alone now—in the middle of everyone.

But the space between them? Charged. Quiet. Private.

“I can go back to the other side of the room,” Ling said, voice softer now. “Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“You won’t.”

Ling nodded once. “You’re right.”

Another pause.

Orm looked her up and down. The fitted hoodie. The rolled sleeves. The muscle peeking just under Ling’s neck where her jersey collar used to be. Her lips parted.

“You look good,” Orm whispered.

Ling smiled. “Good.”

And then—Orm stepped back. Just half a step. Enough for the space to cool.

But not enough to break the tension.

“I’ll see you later” she said, voice low and firm. “When it’s quiet.”

Ling tilted her head. “And if we don’t?”

Orm’s smile was wicked now. “Then I’ll come find you.”

And just like that, she turned—disappearing into the haze of the party, hips swaying like she knew Ling would be watching.

And Ling?

Ling wasn’t moving.

Because her entire body was on fire.

Lingling stood in the middle of the backyard, a solo cup in one hand, her hat now backwards, hoodie sleeves pushed up. The air was thick with beer, perfume, and smoke. Laughter echoed from the pool, the kitchen, the second floor where people were already getting way too naked.

Oom and Milk flanked her, already tipsy.

“You are so hot right now it’s disgusting,” Oom said, swaying into her. “If you weren’t my friend, I’d be writing your name in cursive on my thigh.”

“Get in line,” Milk added. “She’s been getting stalked all night.”

And it was true.

They came in waves—girls with glossy lips and wide eyes, all “Hey Ling,” and “Great game,” and “Want a refill?”

One bold girl ran her fingers along Ling’s bicep and said, “That touchdown made me feel things.”

Ling chuckled politely, pulling back slightly. “Thanks.”

She wasn’t rude.
She just wasn’t interested.

Because the only person she wanted to touch her tonight…

Wasn't touching her at all. And wasn’t even paying attention anymore. But that was what she thought.

Orm saw everything from the upstairs balcony.

Cup in hand, arms crossed, leaning against the railing with a dangerous stillness. She sipped her drink like it was water—but it burned.

She watched Ling laugh at something Oom said. Watched another girl tuck hair behind her ear while whispering in Ling’s.

Ling didn’t even move away.

She didn’t lean in either.

But Orm’s stomach twisted anyway.

“Hey, stranger,” a smooth voice said beside her.

She turned.

A tall girl in a deep red dress, someone from the senior volleyball team, smirked and slid closer. “You look like you need something stronger than that.”

Orm forced a smile. “Yeah? You offering?”

“Maybe.” The girl traced the rim of her drink. “Or maybe I just wanted to say you looked hot at the rally. That flip? Sickening.”

Orm sipped again. “Thanks.”

She tried to look away.

Tried to keep her eyes off Ling.

Failed.

Because now the same girl who touched Ling’s arm was pressing closer again. Ling was laughing at something. Milk nudged her like she was encouraging it.

Orm’s jaw clenched.

She looked at Red Dress again.

“What’s your name?” she asked, voice low.

The girl smiled like she’d won something. “May.”

“Well, May…” Orm leaned in a little, smile too sweet. “Want to dance?”

May grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Orm didn’t look back at the yard.

But she hoped Ling saw.

She hoped it burned.

A while later, From the bottom of the stairs, Lingling saw it.

The dance floor was half-lit, colored lights splashing across skin, sweat glinting on arms and necks.

And right in the center—

Orm.

Dancing with some tall volleyball girl in a red dress.

Their hands brushed hips.
Their faces were close.
And Orm was smiling.

Ling’s throat went tight.

Milk was mid-sentence when she noticed. “You good?”

Ling took a slow sip of her drink.

Then she smiled.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m great.”

She turned back toward the house, eyes landing on a girl she vaguely recognized—short hair, a lopsided smile, leaning against the kitchen counter with a bottle in hand.

Cute. Confident. Watching her.

Ling tilted her head. Approached.

“Is this your drink or just your vibe?” she asked, nodding toward the untouched bottle.

The girl smiled. “Little bit of both.”

Ling grinned back. “Wanna dance?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Now they were both dancing.

Ling and Short-Hair in the backyard, steps away from the open living room.
Orm and Red Dress inside, framed by flashing lights and low ceilings.

And at one point—

They saw each other.

Eyes locked across the open door.

Orm’s hand was on May’s hip.
Ling’s hand was on the girl’s lower back.

Neither stopped moving.
Neither looked away.

The crowd pulsed between them. The air buzzed with bass and breath and something sharp and unspeakable.

Milk leaned toward Ling, muttering, “Careful. That’s the look of someone who wants to commit crimes.”

Ling chuckled, but her jaw was tight.

Across the room, Kary whispered into Orm’s ear, “You’re dancing with May, but your heart’s across the lawn.”

Orm didn’t reply.

Because she didn’t have to.

Her eyes were still on Ling.

Ling dipped her head, laughed at something her dance partner said, let her hand trail a little lower—but it wasn’t about this girl. It was about her.

She looked back up.

And Orm wasn’t smiling anymore.

Just watching.

Just burning.

____

The lights flashed.

Orm stood in the middle of the dance floor, the heat of May’s body close, her perfume cloying, her laugh too loud.

May leaned in. “Wanna get out of here?”

Orm didn’t answer.

Because her eyes?

Her eyes were locked on Ling.

Outside, under the fairy lights. Laughing. Dancing. One hand resting low on a girl’s back, lips brushing her ear when she whispered something. Her hat was backwards, her hoodie sleeves pushed up, her smile wide.

She looked so easy. So free.

So gone.

And something inside Orm snapped.

She stepped back from May, quick.

“Hey,” May frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I’m sorry,” Orm said, breath catching. “I can’t do this.”

She turned.  Pushed through the crowd. Out the living room. Down the hallway.

Fast. Heart hammering.

She didn’t even grab her jacket.

The laughter was too loud.

The music was too much.

And Ling should have been having the time of her life—bodies dancing around her, drinks flowing, eyes watching her like she was the sun.

But in the corner of her eye— She saw Orm.

Moving fast.

Slipping through the living room, past the kitchen, straight to the front door like she couldn’t breathe.

And then— She was gone.

Ling’s whole chest tightened.

The girl dancing with her leaned in. “Where were we—?”

“I’m sorry,” Ling cut in, already stepping back.

She turned, eyes scanning the crowd, heart in her throat.

And there—by the hallway—

Orm’s jacket. Still hanging on the hook. Forgotten.

Ling grabbed it.

Didn’t think. Didn’t ask. Just ran after her.

The front yard was buzzing with people—but Orm was nowhere near them.

Ling darted down the steps, weaving through lawn chairs and beer cans and couples making out on porch swings. Her breath fogged in the cool night air as she jogged toward the sidewalk, head snapping left—

And then—

There.

At the end of the street, under a tree, half in shadow.

Orm.

Her arms were crossed, her body turned away, her phone clutched tight in one hand like she was deciding whether to call a ride or just disappear.

She looked so small. So tired. So not Orm.

Ling slowed her steps.

Walked up gently.

Didn’t say anything.

Just… held out the jacket.

Orm turned, startled.

Her breath caught when she saw her.

Ling’s voice was soft. “You forgot this.”

Orm stared at her. Eyes glassy. Jaw tight.

“I didn’t mean to… interrupt,” Ling added, almost shy. “But I saw you leave. And I couldn’t—”
She stopped. Swallowed. “I couldn’t let you.”

Orm didn’t speak right away.

She looked down at the jacket.

Then back up.

“Why did you come?” she whispered.

Ling’s heart raced. “Because you left.”

“I had to.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did,” Orm snapped suddenly, voice shaking. “I watched you with her. I felt what it meant to you. And I hated it.”

Ling blinked, stunned. “Orm…”

“I’m not jealous,” Orm said, trying to hold her walls up. “I just… I’m not built for this. For wanting someone who doesn’t—”

“Don’t.” Ling stepped forward, holding the jacket tighter. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Orm looked up.

Ling’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Because you’d be wrong.”

A long, aching pause.

And then Ling lifted the jacket, slipped it gently around Orm’s shoulders.

Her fingers lingered at the collar.

Orm was staring at her now. Vulnerable. Broken open.

“I didn’t dance with her because I wanted to,” Ling said. “I danced with her because you were dancing with someone else.”

Orm swallowed hard.

“You looked happy,” Ling added, softer now. “And I panicked.”

“I wasn’t,” Orm whispered. “I was pretending.”

Ling smiled, faint and crooked. “Same.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then Ling said what she couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Come with me.”

Orm’s breath hitched. “Where?”

“Anywhere quiet.”

Orm’s hands were already reaching for her. And this time?

She didn’t let go.

They sat in the car, parked just down the street from the party.

The music was a distant hum now, muted behind rolled-up windows and the hush of night. Lingling’s hands were tight on the steering wheel, her hoodie sleeves rolled up again, her body still humming from the adrenaline of the game, the party, and Orm sitting this close.

Orm leaned back in the passenger seat, jacket pulled tighter around her. The silence between them was charged—but calm now. Steady.

For the first time all night, they could breathe.

Ling turned slightly. “You okay?”

Orm nodded. “Yeah. Are you?”

Ling didn’t answer.

Not yet.

Then—her phone rang.

A name flashed on the screen:

Nok (Nanny)

Ling’s breath caught in her chest.

She stared at it for half a second too long.

Orm frowned. “Are you gonna answer?”

Ling swallowed. Her fingers shook slightly as she hit the green button.

“Hello Nok?”

Nok’s voice was tight. “P’Ling, sorry—it’s Leo. He woke up crying, he says his stomach hurts, and he has a fever. I gave him something, but he keeps saying he feels dizzy.”

Ling’s stomach dropped. Her voice barely held steady. “Did he eat?”

“A little. He won’t keep anything down.”

“I’ll be there soon,” Ling said quickly. “Keep him in bed. Sponge his forehead. I’m leaving now.”

She hung up.

Hands trembling.

Breath shallow.

Silence.

Orm watched her.

Something shifted in her. She doesn’t know a thing about Ling, and yet, she still fell for her.

“Who’s Leo?” she asked softly.

Ling didn’t look at her.

She put the car in drive, then stalled.

Her hands were gripping the wheel like she might crush it.

Orm reached out gently. “Ling.”

Ling closed her eyes.

And said, quietly, “My little brother. He’s sick”

Orm blinked. She didn’t know that.

Ling’s voice cracked for the first time. “He’s all I have.”

Orm’s heart lurched.

“What about your parents?” asks Orm softly, but the silence that settles answers her question, Ling had no parents. And this, was something that crack something into her.

Ling looked over at her then, eyes wide and scared and suddenly so young. “You can’t come with me. I—I don’t let people in. About him. About… any of it.”

“I’m not just anyone,” Orm whispered.

Ling flinched. “I don’t want you to see me like that. I don’t know how to do this.”

Orm didn’t say anything at first.

Then, slowly, she unbuckled her seatbelt and reached over—gently, carefully—covering Ling’s shaking hand with her own.

“I’m not leaving you like this,” she said. “You don’t have to let me in. But you’re not dropping me off and driving to that alone.”

Ling’s throat bobbed. “But what if—people—what if they find out—?”

“Then they find out. I don’t care about people Ling”

Orm squeezed her hand.

“I don’t care who knows I’m with you. Let me be here for you”

Silence.

Then Ling whispered, “He might throw up on you.”

Orm smiled, soft and brave. “I’ve survived worse tonight.”

A shaky laugh escaped Ling’s lips.

And just like that—

They drove. Together.

Toward truth. Toward Leo. Toward the real part of each other no one else had ever seen.