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Stella Richmond was like a vortex. She sucked the world into her orbit. Tabitha felt the pull when she was nearby, her head turning subtly to follow her. It happened even when Stella was silent, which wasn’t often. Her voice traveled impossible distances, her laughter claiming the space.
Tabitha didn’t know why she was different. It wasn’t like she was special. Their school was crawling with loud, self-important troublemakers, but she couldn’t remember the names of most of them. She was, unfortunately, well-acquainted with her own classmates, but the students in the other grades blurred together, utterly forgettable.
Stella’s name stood out, and not just because of how often her friends were calling after her in the hallways, voices laced with amusement or exasperation. There was something more to it. She stole the light when she entered a room, casting everyone else in shadow.
Whatever. Not like it was Tabitha’s problem. She’d barely spoken a word to that girl and didn’t intend to start.
“Let’s go around and introduce ourselves!”
Tabitha glared down at the binder in her lap, arms folded tight. A Midsummer Night’s Dream was splashed across the top of the first page in ugly curling font, looming above the cast list. The chipper voice of the English-teacher-turned-director was grating on her nerves.
“We all know each other, so let’s just say our names and what roles we’re playing.”
They were in the gym, sitting in a circle of folding chairs. Everyone looked vaguely familiar, but Tabitha knew few of their names. Stella was there, ever-present in the corner of her eye, and there were several of Tabitha’s own classmates, sitting together far from her. The rest escaped her, and she likely wouldn’t remember them by the time the introductions were over.
They started around the circle. Of course, everyone ignored the instructions and rambled out additional information that hadn’t been asked for. Tabitha tried to tune them out.
She dug her fingers into her arms when it was Stella’s turn.
“Hey y’all! I’m Stella and I’m playing Puck. This is my second time doing Shakespeare. Last year I played Phoebe in As You Like It. I’ve been doing theatre since fourth grade, and I’m pretty sure I’ve—”
God, shut up. She was going on and on. Why couldn’t anyone follow instructions? Name. Role. That was it. Stella just had to be the center of attention. They all did. They thought they were special. They weren’t.
She retreated into her thoughts, the voices fading to a warbling drone. She woke only when she became aware of sudden silence. She looked up to see the circle staring at her expectantly. She glared back.
“Tabitha. Mustard seeds.”
They were still looking. She glanced down at the cast list. “Seed,” she corrected.
A few excruciating seconds passed.
“Thank you, Tabitha,” the teacher said. “Next?”
Tabitha kept her eyes downcast as the rest of them took their turns. She had thought taking a tiny role in the play (and she’d made it very clear that was the only role she’d be taking) would be the most efficient way to deal with the school’s arts requirement. Parroting a few lines for one weekend’s worth of shows seemed easier than wasting a whole quarter getting judged in some craft-making class, and joining the choir would be even worse.
But as she imagined herself sitting blissfully alone in the back of a quiet classroom, she wondered if she’d made a mistake.
When the introductions were finally over, they cleared the chairs and did “warmups,” which involved stretching (not terrible) and making loud, strange noises (mortifying). Tabitha stood in the back so it would be less obvious she wasn’t participating.
Then came words she always dreaded to hear.
“Okay, everybody find a partner!”
Her stomach sank, her knuckles white against her arms. She objected to group projects on principle, so it was perfectly fine that nobody ever picked her until forced, but it still didn’t feel nice to sit awkwardly by while everyone else claimed their friends. This wasn’t going to be a project, though. Probably something far worse. She wondered what sad sack would be leftover, sidling up to her with a scared or disappointed look on their face—
“Hey, Tabitha! Wanna pair up?”
She jumped slightly, jolted from her ruminations. Stella was standing in front of her with a bright smile.
Tabitha took a moment to process the question, searching Stella’s face for ill intent. This never happened. It seemed…too easy. But Stella’s eyes were so full of sunshine there was no room left for cunning.
“Fine,” she said.
“Awesome!”
Tabitha watched as the others continued to pair off, a few of them starting to scramble. Had she really beaten them to it? It felt surreal.
“I know this is your first show, but don’t worry. I’ll help you out. I’m pretty sure I’ve played every theatre game known to man. Most of them are pretty simple once you get the hang of it!”
Tabitha’s eyes narrowed, indignation burning away her relief. So that was why she’d been targeted.
“I don’t need your charity,” she snapped. “I’m perfectly capable of following along with whatever inane activity she has planned. Don’t act like you’re doing me a favor.”
She stared hard at Stella, waiting for her mask to fall, for the cracks of insecurity or fear to show through. But there was no change in her expression.
“Oh, I didn’t mean you need my help,” she said. “But this sort of thing is all about working together. Having a reliable partner is just as important as putting in your own effort. You’re in good hands, is all I’m saying!”
Her confidence was unwavering. Tabitha felt a bit stunned. She wasn’t sure if anyone had ever had such a non-reaction to her vitriol. It made her anxious.
Their task was some sort of “mirror game.” They were to stand facing each other, the designated leader making small movements. The follower would mimic those movements without breaking eye contact. Then they would switch.
Tabitha kept her arms folded as Stella positioned herself directly across from her. Now that they were standing so close, she felt a bit surprised to realize that they were similar heights. For some reason, she’d always thought Stella was taller.
“Do you want to lead, or should I?”
Tabitha clenched her arms tighter. “Whatever.”
“Okay! How about I go first?”
“Fine.”
Stella slowly lifted her right hand, her left arm loose at her side. Tabitha forced her eyes to drift up towards her face, settling on her forehead.
A moment passed. She could see Stella’s hand rising higher in her peripheral vision. Tabitha’s arms felt like they were melded together.
“Alright, when you’re ready, go ahead and see if you can match me,” Stella said.
“I know, I know.”
She slowly, painfully, unfolded her arms. The second they were at her sides, she wanted to run. She felt exposed. Unsafe. Fighting the urge to clamp them back together took an exhausting amount of effort, her whole body rigid.
She raised her unsteady left hand to match Stella’s. She sensed movement and lowered her eyes to watch as Stella began to extend her arm to the side. She copied her.
“I know it’s tempting, but try not to look down,” Stella said. Her voice was gentle and enthusiastic, like a teacher who wanted her pupil to succeed. The lack of condescension made it worse, somehow. Tabitha felt something white-hot blooming in her chest, mingling with the rising panic to create an unholy cocktail. She wanted to scream and smack Stella’s stupid hand away.
She clenched her own hands into fists, digging nails into her palms. Control yourself. The simple command shot through her mind, an amalgamation of her own and her mother’s voices.
“Stop talking,” she said, as calmly as she could. “I understand the rules.”
And still, she couldn’t bring herself to follow them and lift her gaze. She could feel her partner’s eyes tracing her face. Stella’s arm lowered.
“Tell you what,” she said. “Why don’t you lead first? Let’s just…take a second to reset, and then we can start fresh.”
Tabitha finally looked up to meet her eyes. She looked concerned now. Concerned but still standing tall and confident, pretty and unflappable. The urge to flee was reaching a crescendo. Tabitha’s face felt warm, her body jittery.
“I’m not doing this,” she said, and turned away. She weaved through the other pairs as she hurried into the bathroom. Once she was alone, the full weight of the panic crashed over her. She gripped the edge of the countertop, breathing hard.
When she had agreed to be in the show, she’d failed to consider that there might be more to it than memorizing a few lines. How was she supposed to know that rehearsals would involve such degrading activities? And worse, idiots who were excited to do them?
She did a mental scan of her class schedule for the rest of the year. Everything had been so carefully mapped out. Was it even possible to change things at this point? Whatever. She refused to be part of it. She’d been a straight-A student since Kindergarten. Surely they wouldn’t deny her a high school diploma because of one useless credit. Let them try. She didn’t even need a diploma. The rest of her life was already set, and that future was fast approaching. She sure as hell was not going to spend her final months of relative freedom subjecting herself to this—
She jumped as the bathroom door swung open. She looked up into the mirror, long strands of hair partially obscuring her vision. She narrowed her eyes as Stella appeared behind her.
“Hey. Are you alright?”
“Go away.”
She stepped closer. “I know the exercises are super awkward. They’re designed to take you out of your comfort zone. Nobody really likes doing them.”
She scoffed. “You certainly didn’t seem to mind.”
“I’ve just been doing theatre for a long time. You get used to it!”
She stood up straighter, putting her arms back in their rightful place across her chest.
“Well, unlike you, I’m not a glutton for punishment. I’m not continuing with the show.”
Stella came even closer. She was right over her shoulder now.
“I promise this isn’t what it will normally be like. Most rehearsals will just be text work and blocking the scenes. You probably won’t even have to come to all of them since you’re only playing one role. Don’t quit yet, okay? You can totally do this.”
Tabitha stared at her through the mirror. She felt her panic dulling, just a little. She knew it would be unwise to quit in the heat of the moment. She didn’t want to go back on a commitment. Maybe she didn’t have to. Maybe it would be endurable.
But she’d figure that out later.
“I’m leaving,” she said. She turned, being careful not to brush against her as she started for the door.
“I’ll tell Ms. Wilde you’re not feeling well,” Stella called after her.
She paused. “Thanks,” she said, and left.
“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is Cupid painted—”
“Winged.”
The actress playing Helena paused, clearly working to keep her expression neutral.
“And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. Nor hath…”
She trailed off. Tabitha waited. Finally, the girl sighed.
“Line.”
“Nor hath Love’s mind…”
“Nor hath Love’s mind of any judgment taste; wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste…”
When the rehearsal was over, Tabitha felt oddly relaxed as she packed her bag. She had bristled the first time she’d been tasked with helping the others run lines, but it was starting to grow on her. Correcting people was almost fun, and it wasn’t like she needed to learn or even understand any of the lines herself. There was something calming about shutting her mind off for a short while to just focus on words on a page.
“Hey, Tabitha!”
She looked up, surprised, as Stella appeared in front of her.
“A few of us are going to Winnie’s for milkshakes. Do you want to join?”
She shifted her gaze between Stella’s hopeful face and the small group whispering behind her. She felt an unexpected thrill, but it was quickly smothered by wariness. Her gaze hardened as her anxiety returned from its brief hiatus.
“I have plans,” she lied.
Stella’s face fell, the hope dissipating. “Aw, bummer,” she said. “That’s okay. Next time!”
“Right,” Tabitha said.
The picnic tables behind the cafeteria were usually empty, especially during the colder months. They were too small to hold more than a few people, and the wooden benches were old and uncomfortable. Everyone else seemed to prefer the crowded, noisy interior. That suited Tabitha just fine. It ensured she could go out to what she had come to think of as her table and eat lunch in peace most days.
That day, she had only had her textbooks out for a few minutes when she heard the door behind her open. She tensed.
Somehow, she knew who it would be as the footsteps approached.
"Hey, Tabitha! Mind if I join you?"
Stella appeared in front of her, lunch tray in her hands, a smile on her face. Tabitha's eyes narrowed, her pulse quickening.
"I do mind, actually."
Stella glanced down at her homework, spread across the table. "Oh, are you in the middle of something? I promise I won't interrupt."
"Great. We're in agreement, then."
Stella set her tray down across from her and took a seat. Tabitha gaped at her for a moment, baffled.
"What…are you doing?"
"We can still sit together, even if you're not up for chatting."
Tabitha continued to stare, her brain momentarily scrambled.
"Please, tell me what I said that you could have possibly misinterpreted as an invitation."
Stella was still smiling. She was always smiling. Tabitha knew her a little better after several weeks of rehearsals, but she still had no idea what to make of her. She had never met someone with such a capacity for leaving her speechless. When Tabitha barked, most people would slink away like a kicked puppy, or they’d bark back. But Stella would just look at her like a big, dumb Golden Retriever, wagging her tail.
"I just thought it would be nice to hang out outside of rehearsal for once, and I know you're really busy after school."
She was busy after school, what with working part-time at the mines, but usually when she turned down Stella's invitations to go out with the other cast members, she was just making up excuses.
"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to ‘hang out’ with you?"
“Well, we’ve never really tried it! I think we’d get along pretty well if you gave it a chance.”
Tabitha wasn’t sure where she’d gotten that idea. Sure, it had admittedly been nice knowing Stella would appear at her side if they needed to pair up for something, and she supposed it hadn’t been terrible interacting with her. But theirs was purely a professional relationship.
“Look, I have very limited free time. I don’t want to spend it socializing. I know that’s hard for someone like you to understand.”
Stella leaned her elbow on the table, her posture relaxed, casual. “I get it. You’ve got the lone wolf thing going for you. But there’s still more than a month left until the show is over, and I promise you’ll have a much better time if you like the people you’re working with. If you have to do it anyway, what’s the harm in at least trying to make the experience a little more tolerable?”
Tabitha scowled. “My experience is none of your business. Why do you care so much, anyway? Don’t you have enough friends already?”
“There’s no such thing! But I’m not saying we have to be best buds. We’ve just been working together a lot and I’d like to get to know you better.”
Tabitha’s heart thudded as she stared at her. An odd feeling was rising in her gut, something fluttery and warm.
“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Stella continued. “You’re really good at running lines, and if I’m being honest, I need all the extra help I can get. I thought maybe we could meet after school sometime and you could tear apart my monologues. We can keep it strictly business, if you want. But who knows, maybe you’ll have fun! And I promise not to tell the others you did something social. It can be our secret.”
Tabitha felt the strange warmth creeping up to her face. The phrase our secret made her stomach do somersaults. God help her, she felt intrigued. She searched Stella’s face for some sign of an ulterior motive, but she found nothing except hopefulness. If Stella had intentions that extended beyond her desperate need to befriend everyone in the world, she was good at hiding it.
“You really think I want to put in extra work to help you?” Tabitha asked, but her voice had lost some of its edge.
“Just think about it.” Stella straightened, picking up her fork. “Anyway, I’ll stop distracting you. I’m done talking now.”
Tabitha scoffed. “Doubtful. I don’t think you’re capable of staying quiet for an entire lunch period.”
Stella grinned. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“It wasn’t, but if it shuts you up, then sure. I challenge you.”
Stella kept grinning, but she didn’t respond. Tabitha smirked, entertained by this stupid battle of wills despite herself. She knew she should tell her to go away now that she’d said her piece, but the idea of sitting alone was suddenly unappealing.
She returned her gaze to her textbooks as Stella pulled her phone out. Every time Tabitha glanced up, her fingers were typing rapidly over the surface. True to her word, she was silent as she made quick work of the food on her tray. Tabitha reread the same paragraph over and over, unable to focus, equally unable to muster up the will to tell the distraction to leave.
“Done!”
She looked up as if waking from a trance. Stella’s tray was empty. Tabitha hadn’t touched her own food. She had no idea how much time had passed.
“Told you I could do it,” Stella said. She looked genuinely proud of herself.
Tabitha rolled her eyes. “Congratulations. You have better impulse control than the average toddler.”
Stella laughed. It was a loud, joyful noise, musical and effortless.
“You’re funny,” she said, then stood, throwing her bag over her shoulder. She grabbed her tray. “I should get back. Thanks for letting me sit with you. See you at rehearsal!”
Tabitha forced herself not to turn and watch her leave as she found herself alone again. She glanced at her phone. There were still ten minutes of the lunch period left, but she felt too queasy to eat.
Stella’s house felt like a different universe.
It was weird being in the house of a normal resident of Scarlet Hollow. It felt surreal, like walking into a daydream. Tabitha had always known on some level how disconnected she was from the people who lived in her town—the very people she was destined to devote her life to—but Stella’s cozy family home put that knowledge in her bones.
“Okay, could we try the closing monologue again?”
Stella was pacing around the kitchen, her dog following her with excited grunts. For a middle-aged pug, that thing had a lot of energy.
“I think that one is your most solid,” she said, looking down at her script on the table. “But sure, if you want.”
Stella stopped pacing, scooping the pug up into her arms. The two of them were so attached at the hip Tabitha was surprised Stella didn’t smuggle her into the school. It probably wasn’t for lack of trying.
“I’m so glad you came over,” she said. “You have no idea how helpful this is. You’re so good at running lines.”
Tabitha rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone keep saying that? I’m literally just reading words. Anyone could do it.”
“I know, but you’re so thorough. Most people miss stuff, even if they’re really careful.”
“Then most people need to pay more attention. Why even attempt classical theatre if you’re not going to do it right?”
Stella chuckled. “You know, I’m surprised you’re so opposed to doing this show. You seem to have more of an appreciation for Shakespeare than anyone else in the cast.”
“I mean, I acknowledge his place in the Western canon,” she said. “I just don’t think there’s any reason to keep staging works from 400 years ago. Sure, Shakespeare made substantial contributions to our language, and he was influential to the literature that followed, whatever. But it’s not like he was original. All of his plots are recycled from epics and other Elizabethan writers. And he’s vulgar. Just because something is written in verse doesn’t mean it’s classy. The theatre used to be entertainment for the masses, and it’s obvious how often he was pandering to the lowest common denominator. Not to mention it’s filled with obscure mythological allusions no one in this century is ever going to pick up on. I’m fine with discussing his work in English, but obviously I don’t think we should waste our time performing it.”
She flipped through her script until she got to the last page before realizing that it was quiet. She looked up to see Stella staring at her with wide eyes, her mouth open. Tabitha flinched.
“What?”
Stella looked away quickly, bringing her unoccupied hand up to awkwardly rub the back of her head. “Nothing!” she said. “I’ve just…never seen you so animated.” She laughed nervously, and Tabitha watched in awe as redness bloomed on her face. “I, uh, think you just taught me more than a lifetime of Lit classes.”
Tabitha felt her own face flushing. She hadn’t meant to go off on a tangent, but any shame she felt was overpowered by the thrill of seeing the impossible-to-rattle girl looking so flustered. How the hell had she caused that? She needed to know so she could make it happen again. She bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from smirking.
“Um…right. Closing monologue,” Stella said. She gave Gretchen a final pat before setting her on the ground. “Just give me a second to get out of my head.”
Tabitha waited while she jumped around, shaking out her arms, and then launched into the speech. Tabitha carefully followed along, but she didn’t need to interject once. Stella recited the final lines.
“Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.”
Tabitha looked up. “Perfect.”
“Yes!” Stella fist pumped the air before scooping Gretchen up again, spinning around with her in the small kitchen. Tabitha watched them twirl and for a fleeting moment she was struck by a feeling of possibility, like she was getting a glimpse of what life could be like, of how beautiful the future could be. The moment passed, but the image stuck with her, replaying behind her closed lids that night as she struggled to give in to sleep.
Tabitha clenched her elbows with a death grip, staring at herself in the full-length mirror. She’d been standing behind the flimsy curtain that served as a private changing area for at least fifteen minutes. It was fine because she was apparently the only one who had a problem with stripping down to her underwear in front of the others. Nobody had asked for the space.
Now the hallway they were using as their backstage was silent. They’d gotten called out to the gym a few minutes ago. Only Tabitha remained behind.
She stiffened as she heard footsteps approaching. It was probably that obnoxious girl with the headset again, back to drag her out kicking and screaming.
“Tabs?”
She let out a sigh of relief. It was Stella. Maybe she could help. Vouch for her when she feigned illness and ran off—
“Tabs, are you in here? You’re missing warmups!”
Her footsteps were clomping around. Tabitha poked her head out. Stella turned at the sound of the curtain hooks rattling.
“There you are! You good? They’re probably gonna call places in a few minutes.”
“I’m not going out there.”
Stella’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
Tabitha took in the sight of her costume, momentarily distracted. Stella was wearing a crown of laurels and a matching vest covered in green leaves. It was buttoned over a brown tank top, her toned shoulders and arms exposed. Her pants looked like leaf-covered brown jeggings, tracing the curves of her hips and legs down to matching boots.
She looked better than normal. That just made Tabitha feel worse.
She huffed and threw back the curtain, folding her arms. Stella’s face lit up with a big grin.
“Oh my God, you look great!”
She glared. Her costume was a green dress dotted with stitched-on pink flowers. The skirt and sleeves were fluffy with tulle.
“Are you kidding me?”
“I’m serious!”
She walked past her, pacing in the small space between the makeup tables and costume racks. “This is bullshit. It’s like they’re trying to humiliate me on purpose. I’m not doing it. I don’t care if they fail me.”
“Whoa—”
“I hate this. I hate this! I can’t do this.”
“Hey.” Stella put strong hands on her shoulders, stopping her in her tracks. They stood facing each other. “Deep breath.”
She took a deep, shaky inhale and let it out. It helped, but just barely.
“Tabs, you look totally fine. You just have stage fright.”
Tabitha stared at Stella’s shoulder, eyes drifting down to linger on her defined bicep. She noticed she hadn’t shaved her armpits and felt a twinge of intrigue. She had always thought she was the only girl in the Holler, maybe the world, who refused to do that.
“I can’t let people see me like this.”
“Sure you can! Costumes are half the fun of being in shows.”
She scoffed. “Easy for you to say. You look really good in yours.”
She realized her error when Stella’s eyebrows rose, her grin reappearing. “Oh yeah?”
Fire ignited in her face. “I mean—you know what I mean! You look normal. You get to wear pants. Why can’t I wear pants? It’s not fair.”
Stella removed her sturdy hands. Tabitha felt wobbly.
“I get it. Dresses aren’t really my favorite, either.” She chuckled. “You should look up the photos of me playing the Fairy Godmother in Cinderella. Now that was a getup. It would make you feel better.”
Tabitha made a mental note to do exactly that later. She stared at Stella’s boots.
“Listen,” Stella said. “I know you hate it, but I promise you look good, too. I’ve seen a lot of goofy costumes in my day, and this is nothing. Especially since you’re matching with the others. You won’t stand out at all.”
That was true. All of the fairies in Titania’s court had the same hideous dress.
“We never get much of a crowd at these things, anyway. Mostly parents who only came to see their own kid. Nobody will be watching you, I promise! Except your mom, of course, if she can make it.”
Tabitha let out a harsh laugh at the thought of Pearlanne sitting in the gym in front of their shoddy portable stage. “Yeah right. She wouldn’t be caught dead at something like this.”
Stella didn’t respond. Tabitha glanced up and saw that her face had fallen slightly. She quickly perked up when they made eye contact.
“Anyway, this is just a dress rehearsal. You’ll be fine. And once we run through it, you won’t believe how easy it was. You’ll get through the next few nights, no problem!”
Tabitha mulled it over. Stella was probably right. She was so close to being done with this whole thing. She shouldn’t quit now. And if Stella thought she looked good…
“Fine,” she said.
“That’s the spirit!”
Tabitha sighed. “I guess we should go out there.”
They started for the door when Stella halted in her tracks.
“Wait! You forgot your crown!”
She ran back to the costume racks and plucked a crown of laurels from the plastic bag hanging in Tabitha’s section. It was similar to the one Stella wore except it was braided with pink flowers, because of course it was.
Tabitha stood rigid as Stella’s fingertips brushed against her forehead, smoothing blonde hair away from her face. Then she fit the crown snugly on her head, stepping back to admire her work. Tabitha felt so dizzy she thought she might pass out. She wished she would.
“Oh my God, it’s perfect. You look so cute!”
Tabitha groaned. “Not helping.”
“Sorry, sorry.”
She dared to glance over at the big makeup mirrors as Stella placed an arm around her shoulders. Her scowling face was bright red beneath the crown. Great. Now her humiliation was truly complete.
She watched through the mirror as Stella leaned in towards her, holding her tighter. Their faces had never been so close. Tabitha’s heart hammered furiously.
“Three shows,” Stella said. “Just three more days, and then you never have to wear a dress again.”
“Thank God.”
Tabitha tried to remember if she’d ever spent a night outside of the Estate. Nothing came to mind as she stared at Stella’s ceiling.
The pug was snoring on the ground below. Gretchen had tried to nestle at the foot of Stella’s bed when Tabitha first climbed inside, but she wouldn’t have it. Stella seemed unphased, as usual, when Tabitha informed her that she wasn’t a dog person. She’d insisted Gretchen was special and would grow on her. Tabitha was content to let her have her delusions so long as she wasn’t the one who had to cuddle the thing.
She rolled over and looked down. Stella was lying on her side, her body curled up into a ball under the thick sleeping bag. Tabitha didn’t even own a sleeping bag. Stella owned several, but she had insisted that Tabitha take the bed. She claimed the sheets were fresh, but they still smelled like her. It wasn’t unpleasant.
Maybe it was the dark shadows, but Stella seemed older in her relaxed state. It was a sharp contrast to when she’d been playing twenty questions an hour ago, both of them turned to face each other from under their respective covers.
Do you have pets? What kind of movies do you like? You probably aren’t a fan of sports, huh? What’s your favorite school subject?
The girl had no filter. A sign of a poor upbringing, Pearlanne would have said, but she was getting used to Stella’s antics. It was…nice, having someone her own age to talk to, and comforting to know Stella would fully shoulder the burden of carrying the conversation, and that she wouldn’t mind if Tabitha had an awkward or cutting reply.
But now she was fast asleep, and Tabitha couldn’t bring her own eyes to close. That was par for the course, but this wasn’t the usual anxiety keeping her awake. It felt vulnerable, the idea of sleeping in the same room as someone. What if Stella woke up before she did? Would she stare at her unconscious face, the way she was doing to her now? What would she look like? She couldn’t imagine she’d look as oddly graceful as Stella did, pretty and untroubled.
She rolled over, turning her back to her. It felt like Stella lived on a whole different planet, and staring at her was sparking a million questions of her own. If there was any hope of rest, it wouldn’t be found by encouraging them.
“You don’t really believe all that, do you?”
“Of course I do!” Stella said. “I’ve had a ton of paranormal experiences.”
Stella had been rambling about fictional monsters since the moment they stepped into the woods. Tabitha rubbed her arms. The trees blocked the sun, and her sweater was not cutting it.
“Like what? You didn’t find anything in those videos you showed me.”
Gretchen was running ahead of them, her little pug legs surprisingly fast on the uneven ground of the trail. One of Stella’s hands held her leash, the other shoved in the pocket of her letterman jacket.
“To be fair, that footage is super old. We were, like, twelve. Not exactly the highest production values.”
“My point still stands. Have you ever seen anything? Moving shadows and weird noises don’t count.”
“It’s not just about seeing things. I grew up out here, and when you spend enough time in a place, you get to know the feel of it. You can feel when something is off, and I’ve had too many weird experiences like that in these woods.”
Tabitha looked around, scanning the trees. She still couldn’t believe Stella had talked her into coming out here. She walked carefully, her boots kicking up dirt.
“That doesn’t even make sense. Let’s suppose you’re right, and there really are Bigfoots or whatever lurking out here. By the mere fact that they exist, it proves that they are something natural. There’s no reason it should make you feel ‘off’ if it’s just another undiscovered species. You’re getting worked up over nothing.”
Stella chuckled. “You sound just like Kaneeka.”
Tabitha bristled, but choked back the urge to snap at her. She settled for rolling her eyes. “And yet you still won’t listen to reason.”
“What can I say? I love the thrill of the unknown.”
Tabitha shuddered. “Well, I can’t say getting lost in the wilderness is my idea of a good time.”
“We’re not lost! We’re barely outside of town.”
“Really? It feels like we’ve been walking forever.”
“Alright, let’s just head back. It’s gonna be dark soon anyway and we still need to pick out a movie.”
Tabitha walked ahead as they turned around on the trail, Stella struggling to reorient Gretchen. She glanced over when Stella reappeared at her side. She was holding her jacket, her arms bare.
“Here.” She held it out. Tabitha’s brow furrowed.
“What?”
“You’re shivering.”
Warmth bloomed in her chest, fighting against the chill. “I’m fine.”
Stella ignored her, draping the jacket over her shoulders. Her heart thudded furiously.
“I said I’m fine. You’re the one who’s just wearing a T-shirt.”
“I don’t mind the cold! I’m out here all the time.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry about it, Tabby. You need it more than I do.”
She looked away, her face flushing. She still wasn’t used to her new nickname. She had rolled her eyes when Stella first introduced it. She didn’t want her to know how much she liked the way it sounded.
She grumbled, but slipped her arms into the sleeves. The warmth was a relief, and if Stella wanted to forgo sensible clothes, that was her problem.
“I hate nature.”
Stella chuckled. “I get it. No more spontaneous trips. We’ll be more prepared next time.”
“Bold of you to assume there will be a next time.”
She froze as Stella reached over, pulling her phone out of the jacket’s pocket. “Can we take a selfie?”
“What? No.”
“This might be the one and only time I successfully convince you to come out to the woods. I want to capture the moment.”
Tabitha snickered. “You’re obsessed with taking pictures of yourself.”
“Come on, Tabby. I promise I won’t show anyone. It’ll be just for us.”
She let out a big, exasperated sigh, but she smiled.
“Fine.”
Stella scooped up the pug and lifted her phone, immortalizing the three of them against a backdrop of trees.
Tabitha picked up the habit of shoving her phone into the glove compartment of Pearlanne’s BMW when she arrived at the mines. She had started silencing it at work months ago, but it didn’t help. She still found herself covertly pulling it out of her pocket every five minutes.
Her mother had been right. Having friends was distracting. Friendship felt good. More than good, it was addictive. Invigorating. She got a rush every time Stella’s name popped up on the screen and found herself counting down the hours until she could see her again. Stella was like a salve, easing the tension in her shoulders, lifting the weight from her soul. She understood now why everyone was so obsessed with socializing. She couldn’t have imagined it would feel like this.
She had to get her head in the game. It was a crucial time as she prepared to take Pearlanne’s place as the head of the company. It would be a good while before that happened, but there was a lot to learn, and she was determined to prove herself worthy of bearing the Scarlet name.
She’d figure it out. No matter what, she wasn’t going to let go of the only friend she’d ever had. She had found something she hadn’t known she was looking for—a reason it would all be worth it.
The first time their fingers brushed together, Tabitha didn’t even look at her, their nervous hands colliding in the flickering glow of Stella’s TV.
The second time it happened, there was no hesitation. Stella found her, gently touching the back of her hand, confident but waiting for a sign to continue. Tabitha turned hers, and when Stella squeezed her, she could feel their hearts beating between their palms.
She squeezed her back. Anything could have been playing across the screen and she wouldn’t have noticed. The universe had ceased to exist outside of the place where their bodies were joined together.
Danger, she thought, remembering the way Pearlanne’s lip had curled when she brought Stella to the Estate, thinking about how exhausting it was to lie constantly about why she needed to spend her every waking hour with this girl. You’re in danger.
She slowly turned her head towards her. When her eyes found Stella’s profile, Stella turned to meet her gaze, her face rosy and at ease. Stella caressed her with her thumb, and Tabitha’s worries vanished as an intense and foreign longing swallowed her whole.
It occurred to her in that moment that the way Stella stole the light might not have been something everyone perceived.
From the trail, the Estate could fit in her palm. The whole town looked fake, like a model built by someone with too much time on their hands. It made it easy to pretend there was no one in the world but the two of them, blanketed by the thrum of the woods. She was starting to understand why Stella loved it out there. She didn’t share her enthusiasm, but she couldn’t deny that her energy was contagious.
“What is it, Gretch?! Whatcha got?!”
The dog had found a stick, and as Stella riled her up, Gretchen went from calmly gnawing on it to flailing it around like a rabid beast, drool flying from her mouth. Stella grabbed the other end, engaging in a playful tug-of-war. When she managed to pull it free, she threw it far into the distance and then sprinted after the pug, her laughter weaving through the trees.
Tabitha couldn’t stop smiling, eyes glued to her like a magnet. Stella got excited over the littlest things. She soaked in the world like a sponge, existing in a state of constant wonder, like she couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to be alive. Every time they went into the woods, her face lit up like she was seeing her home for the first time. Isn’t it beautiful, Tabby?
Tabitha would never experience the world the way Stella did, but just watching her was enough. Knowing that she, herself, had become one of the things that lit up Stella’s face made her feel like she could scale mountains.
Stella came jogging back up the path towards her, flushed and grinning, the pug close at her heels.
“Tabby, do you wanna throw the stick for Gretch?”
Tabitha grimaced as Stella thrust the dirt-and-drool-caked stick at her. “I’m not touching that.”
“Aw, come on. It would make her so happy. Isn’t that right, Gretch?”
Stella glanced over her shoulder. Gretchen was already distracted, sniffing at a nearby tree, a low rumble building in her chest.
“What is she growling at?” Tabitha asked.
Stella threw the stick off to the side. “Hmm. Probably a squirrel,” she said. She came closer, sliding her arms around Tabitha’s waist as her smile morphed into something more mischievous. “But you better stay close to me, just in case.”
She thought the sheer force of the feeling in her chest might break her to pieces. She wanted to throw her whole self at her, to run and jump and scream until she collapsed from exhaustion, delirious and overflowing with a joy she hadn’t thought her body could carry. She settled for holding her back and letting the feeling show plainly on her face.
They continued up the trail and stopped at an overlook, their isolation even more pronounced as they stared into the dark expanse below. Stella pulled a bunch of plastic bags out of her backpack, handing her the one with Tabby scrawled on the front. It had taken a lot of trial and error to create a trail mix Tabitha could eat mindlessly, without having to rummage around to find pieces she liked.
You don’t have to do that, she had said every time Stella presented her with a new combination.
I want to! I know the perfect Tabby Mix exists, and I won’t rest until I’ve found it.
She would never realize how tired she was until Stella put her arm around her shoulders. She’d relax into her, the feeling of safety making her sleepy. The nights were getting warmer, but Tabitha still wore her letterman jacket.
“Do you think you would leave?”
Stella’s fingers were twirling absentmindedly in her blonde hair, Tabitha’s head on her shoulder. They were lying in Stella’s bed, entwined under the blanket. Stella was looking up at the ceiling.
“I don’t know,” Stella said. “It’s hard to imagine, honestly.”
Tabitha’s arm was thrown across her waist, sandwiched between Stella’s soft T-shirt and her warm hand resting on top. She tried to focus on the steady rise and fall of Stella’s body to distract herself from the darkness coiling in her chest.
“I don’t want to leave the Holler,” Stella continued. “But I have no idea what I want to do with my life, and there’s a lot of careers that wouldn’t really be possible here.” She sighed. “Sometimes I’m jealous of Neeks. She’s always been so ambitious, ever since we were kids, and she has all these big plans for after we graduate. It seems nice, being that sure about things. She can’t wait to leave the Holler, though.”
Tabitha tensed, her own jealousy pulsing violently through her. “Good riddance.”
“Don’t say that, Tabby.” Stella sounded hurt. “She’s one of my best friends. She just wants to live in a bigger city, that’s all.”
Tabitha took a deep breath. She didn’t want this conversation veering off-track.
“Fine. She can do whatever she wants. I can’t picture you living in an apartment in some metropolis, though.”
“Me either. I think I’d go crazy being away from the woods for too long.”
They were quiet for a moment. Some of the tension had dulled, but Tabitha still felt dread welling up inside her.
“I don’t think I would leave,” Stella said finally. “Or if I did, I wouldn’t go very far. I love this place. I don’t want to spend four or more years learning a skill and then go somewhere else. I want to bring it back home. And I want to be near my parents. Maybe that’s immature or something, but I can’t imagine my life without them.” Stella’s hand squeezed her arm. “Plus I know you’ll be here, and I can’t say I like the thought of being away from you, either.”
Tabitha looked up at her, feeling her face soften, a smile teasing at her lips. Stella glanced down at her, a smile forming on her own face.
“God, I wish you could come with me. It would be so much fun going to college together. Can you imagine? Sharing a dorm room. Late night walks around campus. Studying together in the library.”
She pictured them in a dorm room, lying together in bed exactly as they were now, except it wasn't really a dorm room. There was a kitchen, and a living room, and a window overlooking an expanse of green. It felt vivid, real, like she was peering into an alternate timeline where a different Stella and Tabby lived. She wanted it so badly she felt tears edging her vision.
She looked away and waited until the lump in her throat had mostly subsided before speaking.
"Don't say things like that. It's never going to happen, and thinking about it is just going to make us feel worse."
Silence lingered, heavy in the air.
"You're right," Stella said finally, her voice uncharacteristically meek. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." She took a deep breath, stroking Tabitha's head. When she spoke again, her voice was brighter, though artificial. "Anyway, that's forever from now. We don't have to worry about any of that stuff for a long time."
Stella shifted, angling her body towards her.
"I'd rather live in the here and now," she said, and pressed her lips against Tabitha's forehead. She closed her eyes, the tension melting even as tears stung behind her closed lids.
She woke on the last day of school with a heavy weight in her chest. Hot acid swirled in her stomach. She couldn’t eat. Water made her nauseous. She felt numb as she went through her morning routine.
Tomorrow was the first day of the rest of her life. It loomed like a death sentence.
The half-day passed in a blur. The loud, excited voices filled every crevice of the old building, the cacophony like knives in her ears. The only part of the day she retained was that Stella had texted her that morning.
meet me @ our table after school!!
Every time she glanced at the text, a lump filled her throat. The anticipation made butterflies swarm in her empty stomach, but the dread was greater.
She braced herself as she hurried out back when they were finally dismissed, but Stella wasn’t there yet. She sat at their table with her back to the door, waiting. It was quiet. She stared down at the familiar faded wood, etched and scarred from decades of lonely occupants.
She stood when she heard footsteps. By the time she turned around, she was being crushed in a tight embrace. Stella’s sudden closeness made her dizzy, her own arms taking a moment to find their way around her. She squeezed her back, pushing their skeletons together, trying to sink into her skin.
“You did it!” Stella bounced up and down, practically lifting her off the ground, and then pulled away. She was beaming. “How does it feel to be officially done with school?”
It felt like the end of the world. “Doesn’t really feel like anything,” she said.
“Fair enough. You probably won’t really feel it until next fall, when the new year starts and you realize you don’t have to come back.” Her big smile fell a little. “It’ll be weird being here without you.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m gonna miss seeing you every day.”
She swallowed hard. “Me too.”
Stella’s smile softened further, her eyes scanning her face. “You’re sure you’re not gonna march in the ceremony, right?”
She scoffed, feeling more like herself for a fleeting moment. “Of course not.”
Stella snickered. “I figured as much. I’ll give you this now, then.”
She unzipped her backpack and pulled out an envelope. Tabitha was written across the front in what she recognized as Mrs. Richmond’s handwriting.
“It’s from my folks,” Stella said. Tabitha’s heart hammered as she took it.
“Really? They didn’t have to get me anything.”
“They wanted to! It’s a special occasion.”
She stared down at her name. “Should I…open it?”
“Sure!”
She carefully tore open the envelope with shaky hands and pulled out the card inside. A cartoonish illustration of a black cat adorned the front. It was wearing a graduation cap, its claws clutching a diploma. Confetti fell in the background. Congratulations! was drawn in curvy script.
She opened the card and her breath caught in her throat. There was a photo inside. It was the selfie from their first trip to the woods, what felt like a lifetime ago. Stella wore her trademark giant smile, one arm extended toward the lens, the other holding an excited Gretchen. Tabitha stood close, smirking in Stella’s jacket.
She moved the photo aside to read the message written in the card.
Tabitha,
Congratulations on your graduation! You should be proud of all you’ve achieved. We wish you all the best as you start the next chapter of your life.
Mr. and Mrs. Richmond
Beneath that, in much messier handwriting, was scrawled “Stella and Gretchen.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. You should be proud danced across her blurry vision. The only time her own mother had referenced her graduation was when she informed her she was expected at the mines that afternoon due to the half-day. Tomorrow, she would officially join her there full-time.
“Isn’t it cute?! My mom is obsessed with this artist. She draws these animal pictures and sells all kinds of stuff—stickers, calendars, T-shirts. I don’t know if you remember that mug with the sketch of Gretchen on it, but my mom commissioned that from her.” Stella waved her hand. “Anywho, I had to toss that photo in there. I knew you wouldn’t be caught dead with a yearbook, so I wanted to sign a picture for you. I know you probably think it’s cheesy, but—”
She threw her arms around her, burying her face in her neck, dark hair tickling her skin. The tears leaked out from her closed eyes, her body shuddering against her.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper.
“You’re welcome, Tabby,” Stella whispered back.
She wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, holding each other, the tears drying on her face. Letting go felt like it would mean giving in to the end. She couldn’t let her go. She wouldn’t.
There was a buzz from her backpack, sitting on the table behind her. She didn’t need to look to know it was the housekeeper Pearlanne insisted on hiring, come to fulfill her secondary duty of ushering her off to the mines.
She pulled away slowly, wiping her face.
“I should go,” she said.
“Right,” Stella said, her voice unsteady. “That’s probably your ride, huh?”
She dared to look up at her. Stella was smiling, but there was something sad in her eyes—the hopefulness of someone who believed things would work out, but lacked the certainty of knowing for sure. Tabitha didn’t want to know what her own eyes looked like.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
Tabitha didn’t want her to walk her out. She wanted Stella’s final image of her to be this moment, standing at their table, alone in the space.
Control yourself, she thought, and even her inner voice was shaky. You’re not dying. It’s not a final image. We’ll figure something out. We’ll find a way.
She let Stella walk her to the front.
“Good luck tomorrow!” Stella hugged her a final time. “Let me know how it goes.”
Stella’s hand traced her back, her lips lingering near her ear.
“I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Yeah,” Tabitha said. “See you soon.”