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PJ waited in the cold as weak bunches of toilet paper and single eggs hit the tall home. They were trying their best, she thought fondly. They all sucked.
An egg splat on the ground, its yolk glistening on the ground near PJ’s foot. She pressed her lips together, not sure whether to be disappointed or amused.
She glanced back towards the van, Josie and Isabel facing each other, heads tilted towards each other and a sense of undeniability simmering between them.
Instinctively, she scanned around her. “Hey, anyone seen Hazel?” PJ called out.
Brittany shook her head, delicately throwing another egg.
PJ’s eyes instead landed on Hazel barreling towards her, panic lining her face.
“It’s gonna blow!” She squawked, grabbing PJ’s arm and pulling her way.
PJ stared at her oddly, letting herself be dragged away, “Hazel, seriously—”
There was a flash of bright light and PJ saw the explosion before she felt it, an echoing sound resounding through them and then a brief moment of silence.
PJ blinked in horror.
The car was quickly engulfed and the debris flew in all directions after that, the bright heat still hot from across the pavement.
Hazel looked shocked and disturbingly, a little proud of herself.
Sylvie screamed, ear-shattering and panic sizzled in the air.
“What the fuck, Hazel?” PJ screamed as she dragged Hazel into the van, the others scrambling behind her. They left in a hysterical panic, alarmed and confused.
When PJ could finally breathe and her ears stopped ringing, she stared at Hazel, stunned.
PJ could smell the fire on her still, the edges of her shirt tinged black. Hazel looked apologetic next to her, repeatedly glancing back as if the flaming car would be behind them.
“Uh—” She swallowed nervously.
PJ couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of her, astonished and exhilarated. “Jesus, Hazel. I didn’t know you had it in you.” She was almost impressed.
Hazel grinned then, proud and a little shy, “You really think so?”
“Well, you did nearly fucking kill us so don’t do it again.” PJ added seriously, before shrugging, “But yeah, in terms of like explosions — it wasn’t awful.”
Hazel smiled the rest of the night and if PJ was stealing glances at her, she could hardly help herself.
They had found themselves in a burger drive-through, ordering piles of greasy fries and diet cokes to soothe the fact they might’ve committed arson and multiple other crimes, all related to one jock man-child.
The doors of the van were open, and the group was sprawled in and around the car, chewing their food.
PJ rolled her eyes, Josie and Isabel were sharing a smoothie sitting on the entrance to the van. She was happy for Josie.
And, like clockwork PJ looked over at Hazel again, the two of them still in the van. She was looking back, her eyes soft.
PJ swallowed roughly and immediately turned away. “Uh, hey Brittany wanna invite all of us over?” She called out from the back.
She ignored the hairs raised on the back of her neck as if they could still feel Hazel’s eyes on her.
_____________
PJ pursed her lips together. Everyone had stormed out of the gym and PJ couldn’t be bothered enough to care. She slumped down against the bleachers, crossing her arms petulantly.
It was possible she was a little harsh in yelling at Hazel, but it’s not as if she was lying. Her Mom was a skank and she didn’t have any friends. Sue her for speaking the truth. PJ kicked the bench angrily.
PJ couldn’t explain it, Hazel got under her skin in a way nobody else could, needling inward in a way that lit her up from inside — people didn’t bother PJ, or not in the way that most people thought they would. She didn’t care what anyone thought, but a small part of her betrayed that with Hazel Callahan and that made her want to squash down it even further by keeping her as far as possible.
Also, she was fucking annoying and a loser.
It didn’t help that Hazel was even worse, proudly prancing around her ridiculous self, so earnest about everything she did. It made PJ unexplainably enraged and also vaguely turned on, but PJ was going to steadfastly ignore that last part.
She didn’t really care what Hazel thought. Right.
PJ chewed on her lips as she pushed open the gym doors, through the halls and stomped towards her car.
She didn’t, PJ repeated in her brain as she slid into the seat, her hands wrapping around her steering wheel tightly.
Hazel’s sly smile, before immediately sliding into a heavily panicked one as she sprinted towards the car because why the fuck would she make an actual fucking bomb and why was it the most fun PJ had in months, her stupid, stupid, beautiful hair flapping around her face flashed in PJ’s brain, her dumb brightly coloured outfits that never fit right and yet PJ couldn’t help but picture them—
PJ slammed her head against her steering wheel and a loud blare resounded inside the car, ringing in her ears.
A tall boy walking outside her car jumped, glancing over at PJ through the window, concerned.
“Fuck!” She yelped, her head flying back and knocking into the metal part of the seat rest.
He backed away grimacing, turning in the opposite direction.
“Fuck you!” She yelled at his retreating back, for no reason other than it made her feel a little bit better.
PJ gritted her teeth together. Her head was still stinging, and Hazel was still upset at her and for some twisted reason, she wanted to apologize. How stupid was that? It was needling behind her head, something small that urged her to make amends. Something that didn’t actually want to stop being around her.
She groaned, before pulling out of the school parking lot, knocking into the curb and speeding off onto the road.
Her phone rang, once and then twice, Brittany’s name flashing on the screen. She felt a sick relief and let herself focus on what she had been intent on for years, what she knew wouldn’t change.
What she couldn’t be hurt by either.
______________
PJ kissed Brittany and it was supposed to be everything.
She felt the fluttering start deep in her belly, excitement and apprehension, their knees had been touching and it had felt suitable, how it should happen. She had been waiting for this her whole life, of course. Brittany’s hair fell around her face perfectly, straight and silky smooth, as it always did (and when PJ, distractedly thought about how Hazel’s hair was always the complete opposite, choppy and cut by herself, she immediately pushed the thought out of her brain). Her lips were soft and she smelled sweet.
She had been on her bed, in her room, she had dreamt of this for ages and when Brittany said that she was straight, what PJ felt wasn’t surprise, or hurt, it was restless and uneasy, an awful sense of inevitably drowning in her ears and carrying her out the door.
PJ was loud and boisterous, always had been, but she wasn’t an idiot. She noticed things, sometimes.
A part of her had known. Maybe more than a part. Josie had genuinely liked Isabel. PJ was just along for the ride.
Brittany, whether or not she was truly straight, she was certainly not into her. But it didn’t matter, because that’s what she was known for, that is what she knew. It was an easy, worn path, one that PJ had gotten comfortable carving over and over again — a rejection she sees coming doesn’t hurt, it flies right past her and she goes again.
PJ swallowed and when she finally drove up in her driveway, it wasn’t Brittany’s apologetically polite face, or the realization that her supposed crush for years hadn’t panned out playing in her brain, it was Hazel’s face.
______________
PJ was going to fucking kill Hazel Callahan, that bitch.
Blood rushed through PJ’s ears as Hazel’s bloody face flashed in her mind. She would feel bad, maybe, if she wasn’t so fucking furious at her. She couldn’t fucking believe she had the audacity to tell everyone.
—and to believe that she was going to apologize to her. PJ scoffed to herself.
They had done Hazel a favour . She had made friends and stopped following Josie and her around like a lost fucking puppy.
Her fists clenched at her sides heatedly as her breath came out in angry puffs. Okay, so she and Josie lied a little bit. Big fucking deal, no one was getting hurt about lying about juvie, unlike the real girls getting hurt by those men.
Anyways, if anyone in that group of people would go to juvie it would be her and Josie so, was it that much of a lie? Really, it was Hazel’s fault for being so trusting, believing them so easily initially and then letting the lie carry over for so long.
She wiped the sweat off her face.
Perhaps, Sylvie would also be a contender for Juvie, PJ thought briefly.
Now, to make matters worse, Josie was also angry.
Everyone was upset with her and PJ couldn’t slow down her indignant brain fast enough enough to take real notice of the hurt bubbling underneath all of it.
It wasn’t solidarity the way Hazel had described it, bright and sincere, but it was something. An easy friendship that she had enjoyed, something that settled deeper in her chest than she had initially realized, leaving behind a jagged carving. Or maybe that was just Hazel.
PJ stalked towards the parking lot and her face twisted when she saw fucking Hazel, knees curled to her chest, sitting on the steps at the front of the school, icepack to her face clearly waiting for someone.
“Look who it fucking is.” PJ scowled, crossing her arms.
Hazel glanced up, annoyed. “Leave me alone.”
PJ knew she should walk away, she knew she shouldn’t say a word but her breath was still coming heavy and the fury was pulsing through her. She knew what she should do, but she couldn’t be sane with Hazel, something about it, her, lit her up.
“No – I won’t actually.” PJ started impulsively, and by then it was too late because her blood was rushing through her ears. “Because not only did you air our fucking business to the entire school–”
Hazel stood up fiercely and PJ stumbled over her words, taking a step back. She had never seen Hazel like this. “Seriously PJ. Leave me the fuck alone. I don’t want to talk. You did this to yourself.”
“To myself? Like it’s a fucking crime to want to have a girlfriend. Jesus Christ.” PJ growled. “I wasn’t the only one who lied. You guys all went along with me too.”
Hazel rolled her eyes, before immediately wincing because one of them was swollen shut, “Yeah, because the fight club was a good idea. The rest of it was insane. There are normal ways to date people PJ. Not to lie and create some unrealistic fantasy.”
PJ stepped closer. “Well, that wasn’t working. You know it wasn’t. Sue me for being creative.” She spat.
“PJ.” Hazel said bitterly, “There are girls everywhere. If you just looked. You just had to hyper focus on one way out of your league.”
“Well, I did kiss her.” PJ said harshly, “And that’s not even a lie. She’s just straight, but she didn’t refuse me because I was ‘ out of her league.’ So.”
PJ grimaced. Her argument did fall flat a bit at the end there, she probably should’ve avoided that topic.
Hazel took a step back, hurt. “You what?” Her eyes flickered across PJ’s face.
“I just don’t get why you had to do it in front of everyone. We could’ve talked about it! Instead, you just got the shit beaten out of you for no fucking reason.” PJ said hotly.
Hazel frowned. “I didn’t shit. I just bled.”
“For fucks sake.” PJ threw her hands in the air. “I don’t know why I was even going to try to talk to you. It’s fucking impossible.”
A car with tinted windows pulled up in front of the steps.
“Yeah, you weren’t trying to talk to me.” Hazel got up. “You just wanted to hear the sound of your own voice some more. You can never see what’s right in front of your face.” She said coldly, before getting into the car and driving off.
PJ stared at the retreating car driving away, her teeth gritting against each other harshly. She hated Hazel.
Her brain buzzed all the way home, her hands tightly gripping her wheel, anger and fury slipping into something heated and darker as she got home and immediately reached up to the liquor cabinet on the top shelf and poured something that burned down her throat.
No one was home, not often anyway.
She tore into her room, bottle clutching her hand and the burn slipped down deeper, settling into her lower stomach. Her head was spinning and she couldn’t think straight.
Her eyes fell onto the corner of a white card that Hazel had made for her birthday two years ago, even when PJ refused to celebrate Hazel’s birthday multiple times, an angry rock drawn on the front in overalls, a daisy peeking out of the front pocket, which PJ had scoffed loudly when she got it. Yet, it had stayed on her shelf above her bed, hidden behind ceramic tits Josie had gotten for her. She picked it up now and felt the urge to rip it.
PJ furiously grabbed the edges and attempted to tear it into pieces but the study cardstock merely just bent where her hands tried. She growled and crumpled the stupid card and threw it to the floor (it didn’t really crumple, only bending in the corner — stupid fucking Hazel, who would only use good quality paper for cards).
Her heart was pounding and she couldn’t wrap her brain around it —she didn’t lie on purpose, it had spiralled out of control and people had thought they were cool for the first time ever and maybe PJ was a liar because she always claimed she didn’t care but she did.
It had felt good. It felt good to be wanted and to be part of something.
PJ tilted the bottle up and swallowed roughly, wiping her chin, the burn stinging behind her eyes.
And , it had also felt good to watch hot girls beat the shit out of each other. Brittany on top of her, Stella-Rebecca swinging her fists and — Hazel grinning, PJ’s face against the floor, pleased and proud as she held her down.
PJ pressed her hands against her eyes. Hazel was parasitic in her brain, even when she couldn’t stand her, she stuck around.
The argument replayed in her brain, over and over again, PJ couldn’t figure out how it had devolved so quickly, losing all sense of sanity.
The heat was absorbing her, and later that night when PJ inevitably slipped her hands down her jeans, she let her mind traitorously wander and it wasn’t Brittney’s lips, it wasn’t her pretty, delicate bed or the brief moment that she had thought she might be able to do this – it was fucking Hazel Callahan’s face, scoffing at PJ, bloody and hurt, liar ringing out on her lips and furiously, furiously hot.
______________
PJ could still taste Hazel on her lips.
If PJ thought back, this had been simmering for longer than she could remember, before the football game and long before the fight club. It had settled deep in her and she had pushed it as far as away as possible.
She was afraid she couldn’t hold it in anymore.
The emotions had been high with the brilliantly bright lights on the field burning down on all of them, she had apologized to everyone and she couldn’t explain the happiness that flooded through her when Josie had smiled, Annie had agreed, even fucking Sylvie.
Even worse, Hazel, who had nodded easily. Hazel who had every right to stay mad at her, Hazel who forgave PJ without too much commotion.
Hazel who, for some unexplainable reason, PJ desperately wanted to be forgiven by.
She had to turn away to hide the exhale of relief that immediately flowed through her.
The overwhelming anxiety of Huntington killing their, sure, godawful football players, but they were theirs, had mixed in with the adrenaline of saving them and when Hazel had grabbed her face, her brain flooded with fucking nothing and all that remained was Hazel, Hazel, Hazel, over and over again until she couldn’t breathe.
PJ couldn’t believe she kissed her.
Hazel had been stealing glances of PJ all night and PJ wasn’t sure she could stand any longer.
The night had triumphed on, pushed further from the thrill that buzzed through all of them, successful for the first time in years and adrenaline of it being them. The celebration lasted late into the night and PJ could taste it in the air.
Crumpled cans were thrown into the trash (courtesy of Stella who had kindly scattered garbage bags across the field) and the smell of alcohol, sweat and victory surrounded them all. The exhilaration had consumed PJ and when it finally settled into her bones, along with the liquor coursing through her blood, PJ pushed Hazel against the wall and pressed herself against her.
Hazel’s breath puffed out of her mouth, a loud exhale as she knocked against the brick behind the field, the commotion of celebration just around the corner.
Her eyes were dark and slick with heat and alcohol as she clutched PJ’s hips. “I thought you hated me?” She grinned, her face bruised and beautiful. “I thought I was a loser?”
She was horrible and embarrassing, needlessly confident for some ridiculous reason. PJ couldn’t fucking stand her.
“I do. You are,” PJ's mouth parted and Hazel’s mouth couldn’t get against hers fast enough. There was no time to waste and her tongue slid against hers, heated and PJ tilted into her mouth, gasping.
Hazel gently pushed PJ’s shoulders back after a moment. “Hold on.” She panted, her tongue licking the saliva off the side of her mouth. PJ followed the movement intensely. “Just to be clear — what is this? I mean whatever it is, I’m open but I would like to know the details before—”
PJ rolled her eyes, her hands slipping into Hazel’s hair at the nape of her neck. “I don’t fucking know. You irritate me like hell. I am never not annoyed by you.”
Hazel’s chest heaved against PJ’s, yet her mouth was downturned at PJ’s words. She looked disappointed.
She nodded anyway, unsurprised.
“I can’t get enough of you.” PJ continued, her voice rasping.
Hazel blinked, trying to follow.
“And I can’t stop thinking about you.” PJ fingers were twisting in her hair now.
Her head tilted at PJ, and her eyes darkened. “You are kind of exhausting, you know.” She said, “I just don’t understand you all. Never had.”
PJ slipped her hands further into Hazel’s hair, her fingers scraping against her scalp.
“You really are so rude,” Hazel whispered, PJ’s mouth nearly touching hers. “I guess it doesn’t matter because I can’t stop thinking about you either.”
Their mouths slammed against each other, urgent and desperate, the alcohol buzzing in PJ’s brain. It was sloppy, Hazel was eager and PJ couldn’t get enough of it. Her hands slipped from her hair to grapple at her shoulders, sliding down to her vest in a weak attempt to stay stable on her feet. Hazel was gasping against her mouth and PJ felt like she was going to pass out.
Hazel’s hand pushed up PJ’s shirt and she whined against her mouth.
PJ pulled away, her head spinning, because, what the fuck, she couldn’t believe she just fucking whined and she couldn’t believe she was making out with Hazel behind the school.
Hazel’s lips were red and swollen, her breaths coming out quickly. “Sorry, I should’ve asked.” She said, brushing her fingers on PJ’s waist underneath her shirt, simultaneously sweet and incredibly hot and so, very Hazel.
PJ stared into her eyes. She absent-mindedly wiped the leftover blood scattered on Hazel’s face with her sleeve.
She felt the emotion coming up her throat, desperate and needy and the desire making her brain fuzzy.
“I have to go. Right now.” PJ blurted, before practically sprinting away.
Hazel’s mouth was open in surprise, and her eyebrows were scrunched in confusion and worry, still up against the wall.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” PJ swore at herself. She let herself get caught up in everything but this couldn’t be a good idea, could it? She didn’t like Hazel. What was even going on?
Panicked, PJ climbed into her car, wobbling. “Shit.” And, fucking great, she couldn’t drive away either because she is definitely not sober.
PJ let her seat fall back and she stared at the stains on the upholstery in her car. She shut her eyes tightly.
She couldn’t figure out what was happening, why she was feeling stressed and also incredibly fucking turned on, and why she just ran away from Hazel — PJ sat up quickly.
She had to go back. Whatever the fuck is happening, however nervous it made PJ, it didn’t matter because PJ did not run away. She would insult Hazel to her face. Or whatever she felt the need to do when she saw her, positive or negative.
She opened the door and blurrily stepped out of the car, before tripping, her hands hitting the pavement.
“Fucking hell ,” PJ swore, opening her eyes. A pair of ugly shoes greeted her. “What the fuck.” She flinched away, glancing up and Hazel was staring down at her, hand held out, evidently concerned.
“Are you okay?” Hazel asked worried.
PJ swatted her hand away and stood up by herself, albeit unsteady but she managed to get up. “I’m fine.” She grumbled.
“What happened? You kinda just — ran away.” Hazel raises her eyebrows. “Is this because I stuck my hand up your shirt? Because I am very sorry about that.” She scratched her chin nervously.
PJ huffs out a breath. “No, that’s definitely not what it’s about. Or — kind of, but that, that was fine.”
Hazel look like she didn’t believe her and unsure how to proceed. “Um. We should talk, I think.”
“You always want to fucking talk.” PJ protested loudly but nevertheless followed Hazel back into her car.
PJ slammed her door shot, slouching into her seat.
“What is going on? Exactly?” Hazel pressed her lips together. “I’m kind of confused.”
PJ groans. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t like you.” She says, plainly.
Hazel shrugs. “Okay. That isn’t entirely surprising. You also did just aggressively made out with me and said you can’t stop thinking about me, by the way.” She adds helpfully.
The lights in the parking lot were glinting off her face and PJ wanted to punch her. Or kiss her. Either or.
Maybe both.
“That’s the problem, you asshole.” PJ glared.
Hazel looked resigned. “I don’t see how this is my fault.”
“Yes, it’s your fucking fault.” PJ rolls her eyes, irritated. “It always is.”
“Look—” Hazel begins, “PJ. I think you do actually like me.”
PJ whips her head at her. “Uh, way to be fucking full of yourself.”
“You were genuinely sorry. I think I do annoy you, likely a mixture of both and I should probably care about how you are actually an asshole to me—” Hazel says thoughtfully, “but I don’t. Because I think you are really fucking hot. And also I don’t you’re that awful.”
PJ stared at Hazel. “You do? I mean— Obviously you do.” She adds, scoffing to herself.
Hazel nods easily, anyway. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” PJ says, glancing at Hazel’s face, looking terrifyingly tender actually, flicking from her eyes to her lips, still swollen, either from getting beat up or the borderline violent making-out. “Okay.” She repeats and then pulls Hazel’s face down towards her.
PJ would figure out the rest of it later, the contradictory feelings that swamped her about Hazel, because she couldn’t think straight with Hazel in front of her like this, open and eager.
Hazel smiled against her mouth and PJ impulsively bit her lip.
“Ow, what the fuck.” Hazel said, horrified, reaching up to touch her lips.
“Stop smiling,” PJ muttered against Hazel’s lips. “I’ll bite you again if you do that.”
“Ah,” Hazel responded.
PJ could feel her mouth twitching against hers.
She rolled her eyes.
______________
PJ came to a few realizations. There were days that PJ couldn’t stand Hazel. They used to be every day until they slipped closer and closer together, merging with others.
PJ used to want Hazel so much some days, it made her sick. It made her so sick, so resentful that it turned right into irritation, a slick hatred that muddled her brain.
She could have her now.
It also helped, that it turned out Hazel had also wanted PJ. In a real, tangible way, and had for a while.
The sun was shining through a sliver of curtains, and glinted against a smoothed-out piece of paper front and centre on her shelf, along with a few other cards.
It had all been scrambled together before. An amalgamation of awful emotions that PJ couldn’t sort through, even if she wanted.
It was a lot more clear now (Josie helped).
PJ glanced over to the girl curled against her, her hair splayed against the pillow, silver chain stark against her skin and a bare arm thrown over her. PJ had realized that all she really wanted, was her – and she got it.