Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Needy's point of view.

Today is my first day of school, and obviously, I'm already nervous. I don't know why, maybe because everyone in my fucking school looks like someone that just stepped out of a movie. Beautiful, confident girls, and there's me: Needy "Lesbnicki", the girl everyone would die not to be. 

Karen, my twin sister, has been ready for ages! Her hair perfectly straight, the pink lip gloss that matches her backpack... she's the complete opposite of me, no one confuses us, even though we're identical twins.

— Come on, Lesbnicki, we're running late! — That's her, screaming like a bitch, as always. 

I rolled my eyes and pulled on my sweatshirt, running after her. — I'm coming! — I muttered, even though I knew she probably didn't hear me.

my hair seemed to have a life of its own, my glasses were slipping down my nose, but honestly? I didn't care, I couldn't waste a single second of my precious time fixing it.

Outside, the morning breeze was chilly, and the bus stop filled with strange voices made me want to go back home. Karen, of course, seemed unfazed. She was leaning against the lamppost, smiling at a group of girls that looked exactly like her, exactly like everybody at school, all looking the same.

But there was one person who didn't look like everyone else. After all, she was the queen bee, she has to stand out. Her name? Regina George. 

I don't have a crush on her, of course. I don't even have a chance. She definitely likes boys, even though I've never seen her with one. In the end, she's just too beautiful, gorgeus, marvelous, divine and majestic for anyone.

The bus arrived, and, as always, Karen was the first to board. She sat with her friends, laughing loudly, while I found an empty seat in the back. I stared out the window, watching the city pass by, hoping this year would be like any other, hoping I'd remain as a complete nobody, invisible.

Everyone got off laughing, greeting each other, and I, as always, got off last, trying not to bump into anyone.

Karen was already up front, surrounded by two girls that obviously looked just like her, The Plastics. They were chattering excitedly about parties, makeup, and, of course, boys. 

The sound of their conversations, lockers slamming, and heels clicking on the floor was deafening. I took a deep breath and started walking, clutching my backpack tightly so I wouldn't look too out of place.

— Needy, stay a little distant, okay? — Karen said, fixing her hair without looking at me. — It's just... the girls think you're kind of... — she paused, searching for the right word in her mindless brain, — different.

Different. A nice, polite way of saying she's embarrassed of me. 

I nodded silently, pretending it didn't hurt. — Sure. No problem. — She smiled, relieved, and walked back with her friends. I stood there, watching for a moment, wondering why my sister changes so much when we're not alone.

I sighed holding my books tighter and kept walking. The smooth floor reflected the overhead lights, and each step seemed too loud, almost shouting how much I didn't belong there.

It was then that I felt something crash into me, or actually, someone. My books flew, and before I could catch my balance, I was on the ground. And to make it worse, someone was on top of me.

And that someone was no one but Regina George.

Everything was silent, and for a second, time stood still. All I could see was her face: perfect, cold, and yet… human. Her eyes met mine, and I swear there was something there. A spark, a silent concern. But, as if remembering who she was, her gaze hardened in the next instant.

She stood, fixed her hair with that majestic gesture, and looked down at me with arrogant eyes.

— Watch where you're going, weirdo.

She walked away, and the sound of her heels echoed through the hallway, mixed with the giggles of those who had seen it all.

I lay on the floor for a while, my face burning and my heart pounding. I gathered my books with trembling hands, trying not to look at anyone. Everyone was still watching me, and all I just wanted was to disappear.

I went straight to my classroom, silently. Head down, steps quick. As soon as I entered, I went to the first chair, always the first. Not because I like it, but, with my myopia, if I sit any further away, I can't see anything. 

I opened my notebook and pretended to be busy, even though my heart was still pounding. That's when I heard the door open. I looked up for a second, and there she was. Regina George. Surrounded by whispers, looks of admiration. She crossed the room as if she knew the world revolved around her and sat in the back, crossing her legs. 

I looked back at my notebook, cursing the world for having landed in the same class as her. I felt like the unluckiest girl in the world, and maybe I really was. But now it was too late; the damage was already done, no time for tears.

The clock on the wall marked the start of the first class, but time seemed to drag. I pretended to copy what the teacher was writing on the board, but my mind was still stuck on the hallway. On Regina's quick glance, in that split second when she seemed worried.

I shook my head, trying to focus. It was just my mind playing tricks on me; she would never care about someone like me.

The rest of the class passed in a blur. And I didn't dare look back for even a second. I could feel Regina's gaze burning into my back, and that was enough to make me not even consider looking in her direction.

When the bell rang, I stood still for a second, waiting for the room to empty. I didn't had the courage to face anyone. I put my notebooks away slowly, and left almost silently without looking back. I already knew I would have to leave alone; it had always been like this.

In the hallway, I opened my locker with trembling hands and shoved my things inside. I closed the door carefully and left, head down, following the same path as always. The courtyard was full of students scattered in small groups, and I kept my face against the wall, hoping with all my might that no one would ever notice me.

The street was emptier than usual when I was a little far from school. I wanted to get home, bury myself in my bed and pretend that day never happened. That's when I heard a whisper, so faint I thought I'd imagined it.

— Needy…

I ignored it. It could have been just my head, or just the sound of the wind blowing through the trees. I kept walking.

Again, louder, this time filled with impatience:

— Needy, get in the damn car!

I turned slowly and stared at a pink car parked a few feet behind, the passenger window rolled down. Regina was inside, her face partially shadowed by the rearview mirror. My body froze. My heart pounded so hard it almost hurt my chest.

For a second, I considered running. For another, I considered screaming for help. But before I could decide, she spoke again, this time in that voice that  sounds like a command:

— Get. the fuck. in.

It was an order. I moved as if pulled by strings, making my way to the passenger seat, my hands trembling. The scent of her perfume filled the car: sweet and strong, impossible to ignore. I sat down, unsure of where to put my hands.

— Why? — My voice was low, a thread of shame and fear. — Why did you... what for?

Regina stared straight ahead, her hands on the steering wheel, not meeting my eyes. Her voice was dry when she replied:

— Consider this an apology for falling on you.

I saw no trace of remorse on her face, just an almost matter-of-fact expression, as if she'd said something she regretted only the slightest. I wanted to tell her it wasn't necessary, that I would survive the humiliation, but the words stuck.

The rest of the drive was silent. The engine, the muffled sound of tires on the street, and me. I watched the trees move, thoughts circling, going nowhere. She didn't speak. I didn't dare move. There was a distance between us, a strange, heavy wall.

When the car turned a block before my house, she braked slowly and finally looked at me, just for a second.

— Get off — she said, making no effort to appear friendly. — If anyone finds out I gave you a ride, I'll kick your ass and end your life.

My stomach tightened, that was a real threat; I knew what Regina was capable of. I murmured a barely audible "Thank you."

Regina nodded, as if deciding if she felt anything behind those words.

I got out of the car with shaky legs, closing the door as slowly as I had opened it. I watched the pink car pull away and disappear down the street, Regina driving as if she were a victim of her own actions.

I walked the rest of the way as fast as I could, my throat dry, my head full of questions I didn't have the courage to ask. When I got home, I ran upstairs, slammed my bedroom door, and locked it behind me. I leaned against it, resting my forehead against the wood, and for a few minutes, I just breathed as if my life hung by a thread.

Then I threw my backpack in the corner of the room and let my books fall on the floor.

I didn't had the energy to tidy anything, not even to think.

The sun streaming through the window was already beginning to set, and the shadows were lengthening along the walls. I sat on the edge of the bed and stayed there for a while, just listening to the distant sound of cars on the street.

My fingers were still shaking, don't know if from nerves or something I couldn't name.

Her perfume was still there.

On my coat, in my hair, clinging to me as if it didn't want to leave.

I closed my eyes for a moment, but the image came back to me with a vengeance: the pink car, the quick glance, the way Regina said "Get in" without giving me a choice.

And then the silence.

The strangest, most awkward silence of my life.

I tried to laugh at myself; it was ridiculous.  Regina George had never looked at me twice before, and now here I was, my heart racing from a ride and a threat.

It must be fear.

It HAVE to be fear.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the cold pillow against the back of my neck. My mind spun in circles, trying to understand why I couldn't stop thinking about her.

In her gaze, in her tone of voice…

The way, for a second, she seemed almost human.

But no.

Better not to think about it.

Better not to think about her.

I rolled over and closed my eyes tightly, taking a deep breath, as if I could push all those thoughts out of my head.

The pillow muffled a tired sigh, and I curled up, letting my body give way.

The last thing I felt before sleep overtook me was the distant echo of her voice:

"If anyone finds out I gave you a ride home, I'll kick your ass and end your life."

And try as I might, I couldn't decide if that was a threat...

or a weird way of caring.

Chapter Text

Needy's Point of View.

The sound of the alarm woke me up like a punch. I sat up in bed, my heart racing, trying to understand where I was. My breath was still caught in my chest when I smelled the sweet, expensive, and unmistakable scent. Regina. 

For a moment, I closed my eyes and wished it was just my imagination. But it wasn't. Her perfume was still there, lingering in my pillow, on my skin, in the air. 

It was as if she'd left a piece of herself behind, and it completely knocked me out. 

— Shit. —  I muttered, throwing the blanket aside and heading straight for the bathroom. 

The shower water ran hot, almost as if it could wash away my thoughts. But no matter how hard I scrubbed, her scent wouldn't go away. And worst of all: I couldn't stop thinking about her either. 

Her gaze.

The way she said things, as if nothing and no one could shake her confidence.  And the way my name sounded when she said it. 

I got out of the shower and stared at myself in the mirror. My still-damp hair fell in messy strands, but for the first time in a long time, I cared. I grabbed a brush, combed it, and styled it into a simple but pretty hairdo. Then I added some lip gloss, just a touch.

Nothing major. Just enough to make sure it look like I hadn't spent too much time thinking about Regina George. 

I went downstairs and found Karen already sitting at the table, perfect as always: her blonde hair flawless, her smile practiced, her posture like a doll.

She looked up at me and smiled.

— Good morning, Needy! Did you sleep well? 

— Yeah, I guess so — I pulled up a chair and sat down. 

We had a good relationship. Really. Karen was the kind of sister that makes you laugh even when you don't want to, and despite the difference in worlds we lived in, she never treated me badly, not at home, at least.  Here, we're just sisters. No audience, no crowd, no masks. 

She chewed absently as she said, oblivious to everything that was happening:

— You don't have to wait for me today, okay? Regina's coming to pick me up. 

My body froze.

Regina. 

I nodded, trying to appear indifferent.

— Mmkay. 

When we walked out together, the car was already there, shiny and waiting. A pink car that perfectly matched its driver. 

I looked up, and for a second, time stood still.

Regina was there, in the driver's seat.

Her eyes met mine for a brief moment, cold, distant, but real. As if she recognized me, even without meaning to. 

And then she looked away, returning her gaze to the steering wheel in front of her. 

Karen got into the car excitedly, talking about something, probably about boys. I just stood there, watching the car drift away until it disappeared around the corner. 

I sighed and continued on my way, alone. 

At school, the teacher walked in with his usual mood and announced the worst kind of news possible: pairwork. 

The whole class cheered. Everyone started huddling with their friends, scraping chairs, whispering, and laughing. 

I stayed where I was, my notebook open, my pen poised in midair.

Obviously, no one wanted to be partnered with Karen Smith's weird sister. 

Regina wasn't in the room; she'd probably gone off with The Plastics to do... I don't know, something girls like them do. Something worthy of a full page in the Burn Book. 

But when Regina finally walked in, the teacher looked up and said firmly:

"George, Lesnicki, pair." 

The sound of laughter and chatter died away instantly.

I felt every eye in the room fall on me. 

My world fell apart, and I couldn't hide it in my face. 

Regina, George. And me. 

She walked in with that slow, confident way of hers.  She stopped beside me, tossed her hair back, and sat down.

— I don't bite, Lesbnicki. — she said, crossing her legs. — Today, at your place. 

My heart stopped.

At my place.

With Regina George.

And with Karen there.

Shit. 

Narrator's Point of View 

When the bell rang, the school became a chaos of backpacks and voices. Needy was closing her locker when she felt someone holding her arm, firm, quick, almost impatient. 

— Just making sure you don't bump into anyone today. — Regina said, her tone indifferent, but it didn't hide the fact that she'd just dragged her down the hallway. 

Regina opened the car door and nodded.

— Get in. — Needy obeyed without question, her heart racing. The car smelled exactly as she remembered: sweet, expensive, irresistible. 

The ride was silent. Neither of them dared break the thick air between them.

When the car stopped, Needy hurried out, and it was her turn to grab Regina's wrist. 

— Hurry up. — she whispered, glancing around. — If my sister sees you here, you're dead. 

Regina arched an eyebrow. — What's wrong with you? Did you fucking forgot who I am? 

— In my house, I make the rules. — The sentence was out before she could regret it. And for the first time, Regina didn't respond. 

She just stared at her, surprised.

No one had ever spoken to her like that. 

They hurried upstairs, and Needy pulled her into the bedroom, closing the door quickly.

She grabbed the laptop and placed it on the bed.

— Sit down. — Regina obeyed. 

The silence of Regina was almost palpable as Needy typed, explaining the topic of the assignment. She spoke quickly, with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what she was talking about. Her eyes shinning with concentration, her fingers typing rapidly. 

Regina just watched. 

There was something hypnotic about her. In the way her lips moved when she spoke. In the way she wrinkled her nose when she thought. 

Regina felt her eyes flicker back and forth to Needy's lips, as if they were a point of attraction she couldn't avoid.

The rest of the work proceeded in silence, but not an uncomfortable silence, just the silence that happens when everyone is doing their work, as it should be. 

When it was late, Regina closed the book in front of her, the dry sound echoing between them.

The sun streaming through the window was no longer the same as it had been in the early afternoon; now it was a soft gold, filtering through the curtains and illuminating Needy's face with a light that seemed tailor-made for her. 

Regina found herself watching.

The way the glow touched her blond hair, the distracted way she bit her lower lip as she thought, the slight frown between her brows.

Everything about her seemed involuntarily delicate, and at the same time... firm. 

— Are you always this quiet... — Regina broke the silence, her voice low, almost lazy, — or is it just around me? 

Needy looked up, surprised. The pencil still between her fingers, her lips bitten. For a second, she didn't know what to say. 

Her heart was beating too fast, and Regina's gaze felt like an impossible weight to bear. 

— Maybe I just don't know what to say to someone who lives on top of the world — she murmured, looking away. 

Regina tilted her head, a small, indecipherable smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

— And what do you think is up there? — she asked, her voice sounding softer than she intended. 

Needy took a moment to answer.

She looked out the window, then thought about what she saw every time she looked at Regina: perfection, control, power.

Then she looked back at her, her eyes steady despite her shyness. 

— Loneliness, I think. 

The silence that followed seemed to fill the entire room. 

Regina blinked slowly, her smile fading.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but didn't said nothing. She just stared, Looking as if she just saw something she never noticed before. 

And for the first time, her gaze wasn't of a girl judging the world from above. It was of someone caught off guard. Maybe because she felt seen, maybe because she didn't know how to react. 

Needy focused on her laptop again, but her hands trembled slightly on the keys. She felt Regina's gaze on her constantly, as if every breath was measured.

When the sun was almost setting, dyeing the room a sleepy orange, Regina leaned back on the bed and carefully closed the laptop in Needy's lap. 

— You should get out more — she said, looking straight ahead, but her voice distant. — Karen said there's a party next week. Come with me. And try not to fall this time. 

Needy felt her face heat up.

— I'm not the party-going type. 

Regina turned her head slowly, her eyes meeting hers. A barely perceptible smile formed.  — No one is — she replied, standing up, — until someone asks them out, and I'm telling you to go. 

She grabbed her bag, walked to the door, and paused for a moment before leaving.

Needy couldn't tell if Regina hesitated or if she was just thinking.

But when the door closed, the room felt emptier, as if the air Regina carried with her made everything less alive. 

Needy fell onto the bed, her heart pounding in a strange rhythm.

She didn't know what that meant, nor did she want to know.

She only knew that, for some reason she didn't understand, the sweet scent she thought she'd washed off herself that morning seemed to have returned. 

And as the car drove away, Regina thought about what the girl had said. 

It was the first time in a long time that anyone had seen Regina George not as the queen of the school, but as a person. 

And for someone used to being adored, being seen like that… was frighteningly addictive.

Chapter Text

A week had passed since the party invitation at Needy's house. The day of the party arrived faster than she expected. The afternoon sun was golden, and her room smelled like coffee and paper. Her books were open, her pen twirling between her fingers, her mind far away.

Then, the sound of a heel against the hardwood floor made her turn in surprise.

Regina George was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame as if the place were hers. She wore a satin pink dress that looked tailored, the fabric shimmered with the touch of sunlight from the window, and the bow on her left shoulder completed the look with a lazy perfection.

— Let's get ready, Lesnicki — she said, crossing her arms, her tone thick with forced boredom, as if she hadn't been planning this for days.

Needy blinked, confused. — Get ready?

Regina rolled her eyes and tossed something toward her. A pastel green dress slid onto the bed, the fabric shimmering slightly. 

— It was in my closet. I don't even wear green. — She feigned disinterest, fiddling with her hair, but her heart was beating too fast.

The truth was only one: Regina had bought the dress especially for Needy. She even asked Karen for her measurements, pretending it was just out of curiosity. But ever since the day they fell over each other in the hallway, something inside her hadn't stopped calling her closer: a silent addiction to the sound of the girl's voice, the distracted way she wrinkled her nose, the calm way that contrasted with the chaos Regina carried.

Needy touched the fabric of the dress as if it were something precious. — It's beautiful... but why are you—

— Hurry up, I don't have all day — Regina cut in, masking the softer tone that threatened to escape.

The room filled with the scent of sweet perfume and hairspray. Regina worked on Needy's face with the concentration of someone putting together a puzzle.

— Close your eyes — she ordered, applying eyeshadow in soft shades, the touch of her fingers unexpectedly delicate.

Needy obeyed, her heart beating too fast. With each gesture, with each approaching sigh, the world seemed smaller, quieter. Regina curled her hair with the curling iron, strand by strand, watching how the blond strands reflected the light.

— Why are you doing all this? — Needy murmured.

Regina pretended not to hear. She was too focused on hiding the silly smile that insisted on appearing in her face.

When she finished, she took a step back, assessing the result. The green dress hugged Needy's figure subtly, elegantly, as if it had been made for her. Regina leaned in again, smoothing a stray curl, and whispered:

— There's one detail missing.

She picked up the glasses from the table and carefully placed them on the girl's face. For a moment, she stared. Her eyes behind the lenses, her expression shy and curious.

— Beautiful — she whispered so quietly only she could hear, without thinking.

The silence that followed was thick. Regina blinked, blushing, and turned her face away.

"Damn it," she thought. "Why did I say that?"

She composed herself in seconds, touched up her lipstick, and grabbed her purse. — Let's go, we're late.

Regina's car stopped in front of the house, where the music was already leaking through the windows. Colorful lights twinkled on the facade. As she opened the door for Needy, Regina kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, as if it were an automatic gesture, but the light touch of their fingers, for an instant, made something flutter in her chest.

Jennifer Check, the hostess, was waiting in the doorway. She had the same sharp smile as always: the one that showed confusion and pleasure at the same time.

— Needy! — she exclaimed, pulling her into a tight hug. — You've grown so much, I missed you! — Jennifer was Needy's best friend since they were kids and also... her first girlfriend. 

Regina watched with an uncomfortable knot in her stomach. Needy's laugh sounded different when it was because of Jennifer. High, sincere. It irritated her. But it wasn't irritation, it was something she couldn't name.

— Territorialism. — she tried to justify to herself. — This bitch wants to be better than me, I won't stand for it.

As Jennifer dragged Needy to the middle of the living room, Regina leaned against the wall, watching.  Her pink dress reflected the twinkling lights, and she felt strangely detached from the party. What was wrong with her? Why did she care so much if Needy was smiling with someone else?

Hours later, the game began.

The bottle spun. Laughter. Glasses clinked. And then, fate decided to play again: the neck pointed at Regina. The other end, at Needy.

A chorus of drunken voices exploded.

"SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN!"

Regina wanted to refuse, but the pressure was too heavy. Needy looked at her hesitantly. Regina shrugged, feigning contempt. — Come on, before they change their minds.

The closet was small, stuffy, and smelled like old wood, sweet perfume, and spilled alcohol. The laughter outside seemed distant, as if coming from another world. Inside, there was only silence.

Needy leaned against the cold wall, hugging her arms. The light escaping through the cracks drew thin streaks of clarity across Regina's face, which seemed oblivious to the world: a statue of perfection even in the shadows.

For a few seconds, the only sound was their breathing. The air felt thick, almost heavy.

— You don't have to just stand there, like... ignoring me. — Needy's voice broke the silence, a little shaky. — I don't bite.

Regina looked away, a small smile appearing on her lips. — Good to know. I thought you were the one who was scared.

Needy laughed softly, almost silently. — Of course I am scared. Just not of you.

Regina lifted her chin, as if studying her more closely, trying to understand where she was going with this.

— Of what, then?

Needy took a deep breath. — Of looking invisible forever. Of always being "Karen Smith's weird sister." Of never being noticed. — She gave a short sad laugh. — Funny, huh? I'm here, locked in a closet with the most noticed person in school.

Regina arched an eyebrow, but there was something in her gaze, a hint of vulnerability that she rarely let slip.

— And is that bad? — she asked.

— I don't know. — Needy absently ran her finger along the wood of the wall. — Sometimes I wonder if being noticed all the time is actually better. It must be... exhausting pretending to be perfect.

Regina blinked, surprised by the bluntness. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something sarcastic, a typical Regina George response. But nothing came out.

Silence returned. A different kind, more intimate.

— Do you think I fake it? — Regina's voice came low, almost hesitant.

Needy looked up. — I think everyone fakes it a little. But you... — She paused, choosing her words. — You seem trapped inside the version of yourself people have created for you.

Regina held her gaze, and the mask, the confident posture, the calculated smile, began to crack.

— No one wants to see what's underneath. — Regina said finally.  — If I drop the facade for even a second, someone takes advantage. So I keep it up. — She shrugged, as if it were simple. — It's easier to be the perfect girl than to deal with what's left when I'm not.

Needy was silent, absorbing this.

Then she leaned in, just a little closer, and said softly,

— You don't have to pretend with me.

The sentence hung in the air.

Regina blinked, her heart racing for no apparent reason. Needy's words seemed to echo inside her, tugging at something she'd always kept locked away.

The two of them were too close now. The space between them was almost nonexistent.

Needy could smell Regina's perfume mixed with the scent of sweet alcohol and warm air.

Regina looked away, but her voice was low, trembling, a rare thing.

— What if I'm not what you think?

Needy answered without hesitation,

— Then it means you're being real.

The following silence was long.  And in that interval, the whole world seemed to slow down.

Regina raised her hand, hesitant, and touched Needy's face with her fingertips.

It was a shy, almost confused gesture, as if testing something she shouldn't.

Needy didn't pull away. She just closed her eyes.

When the kiss happened, it was sweet, restrained, vulnerable.

Nothing like what Regina George would do.

It was just a girl, tired of pretending, finding shelter in another who only wanted to be seen.

Time seemed to stand still until "knock, knock, knock!", three knocks on the door.

The two of them jumped apart.

Regina brought her hand to her lips, her gaze lost.

— No one can know about this. — Her voice was urgent, almost desperate.

Needy just nodded, her heart still pounding.

When the door opened, music, laughter, and the smell of celebration filled the small space.  But nothing could erase what had happened inside.

And for the first time, Regina George didn't know who she was when she looked at Needy Lesnicki.

The party at Jennifer's house was finally coming to an end, the last laughter and songs fading into the cool night air. As everyone said goodbye and left, in the corner of the sofa, Karen was curled up, her eyes red and wet with tears, her disheveled blond hair falling over her shoulders. She sobbed softly, barely audible, as Jennifer leaned in to gently wrap her arms around her.

— She… she's so beautiful… — Karen murmured, stumbling over her words. — My sister… my sister looks more beautiful than me.

Jennifer ran her hand through the girl's hair, gently smoothing it, trying to brush away any strands that covered Karen's face. Each gesture was filled with care, but also with feelings Jennifer had never dared to reveal. She knew Karen would never see her the same way: for the girl, that embrace was just friendship; for Jennifer, it was love.

— You'll always be the prettiest to me —  Jennifer whispered, her voice nearly breaking. — Always.

She remembered it all clearly: Jennifer only dated Needy because she looked exactly like Karen, and Needy knew it. They were just two preteens discovering the world, one friend helping the other. They never liked each other like real girlfriends. Just as best friends.

When the party ended, Regina took the front seat with Needy. The silence between them was almost suffocating, heavy with unspoken thoughts, and Regina practically ignored Needy, staring straight ahead as if she didn't exist. Needy felt her heart sink, but she said nothing. In the back seat, Jennifer supported Karen, holding her firmly and carefully as Regina drove them home.

When they arrived, Jennifer helped Karen up to her room and sat her on the bed. Karen was still staggering, and Jennifer supported her, gently taking off her shoes. She found a loose, comfortable t-shirt and helped Karen change, each movement slow, careful, loving.

Jennifer wiped a damp towel over the girl's feverish face, watching her warm skin, the way her body relaxed slightly when she touched it. Every gesture made Jennifer's heart clench. She wanted so badly for Karen to feel safe, protected. But there was a silent fear: if she gave in too much, if she let her emotions overflow, she might end up confessing more than she should.

Karen closed her eyes and snuggled into the pillow, but suddenly she murmured, almost slurring her words:

— Can you please… stay with me?

Jennifer swallowed hard. The simple request carried all the weight of what she felt: love, care, a silent desire to always be there. For a moment, she almost refused, trying not to let herself get carried away, remembering the barrier between them, the risk of giving in too much. But the warmth of Karen's body against hers, the girl's quiet trust, and the memory that the person she loved was truly there, vulnerable and asking for her, made her give in.

— Alright, I'll stay. — Jennifer whispered softly, barely audible, but the certainty in her voice was absolute.

She lay down beside Karen, wrapping her arms around her, molding herself to the girl's vulnerable body. Karen curled up, still believing it was friendship, unaware that every gesture of Jennifer was filled with deep love. The room was lit only by the soft moonlight, and the silence was comforting, cozy, almost magical.

They both fell asleep like that, embraced, Jennifer feeling the warmth of Karen's body against hers, the rhythm of their breathing synchronizing, and every discreet touch of care and love that didn't need to be spoken aloud.

And that night, Jennifer knew that no matter if Karen didn't understand what it meant, she could protect and love the person she loved, even if only in silence.

Chapter Text

Monday arrived like a punch to the gut. The rumor had already spread, crossing hallways, lunch tables, and messages exchanged in secret.

It was no secret that Needy Lesnicki was a lesbian; the whole school knew that for a long time. But now everyone says she made up a story where she kissed Regina George, just for attention.

What nobody knew was that someone, amidst the noise of the party, had seen through the cracks in the closet.

A quick glimpse: mouths close, a touch, maybe a kiss.

Nothing that proved anything, but enough to set the whole school go crazy.

In a few hours, what was just a rumor became absolute truth: Needy Lesnicki had said she kissed Regina George.

And, of course, Regina knew.

She could have discreetly denied it, she could have let time erase everything.

But fear and pride spoke louder.

She needed to crush the rumor, she needed to make it seem impossible, ridiculous, that something like that had happened.

And to do that, she only needed to do one thing: turn Needy into a joke.

Right at the first break, the voices were already echoing down the main hallway.

“I heard she tried to kiss Regina.”

“No, she told everyone she kissed her.”

“How embarrassing…”

The sound of laughter mingled with the metallic echo of the lockers closing.

Needy walked in silence, her books pressed against her chest.

She felt the stares piercing her skin like needles.

The floor seemed to move too slowly, and the air was heavy as if filled with dust and shame.

When she reached her locker, her heart almost stopped.

In red letters, ink dripping like fresh blood, a scribble: DIRTY FAGGOT.

The words still glistened wet, crooked, cruel.

Torn papers were taped together, notes with obscene drawings and muffled laughter rose behind her.

Needy stood there, unable to breathe properly.

The sound of the ceiling fan spun slowly, laughter echoed, and for a moment everything spun together.

She felt her stomach clench, a metallic taste rising in her throat.

In the middle of the crowd, Regina watched. Arms crossed, neutral expression.

Her stomach churned every second, a cold nausea, the kind of nausea that comes with guilt.

She knew that just one word from her would make it all stop.

But she said nothing.

She just turned her face away, feigning disinterest, while her chest burned inside.

— Hey, Lesbnicki — her voice cut through the air, with the venomous sweetness of someone who commands the stage. — Have you identified with the new decor?

The hallway erupted in laughter.

Karen, who didn't quite understand the weight of it, laughed too. A light, uncomfortable laugh.

Regina felt like vomiting.

But her smile remained, intact, perfect.

The queen of the school couldn't falter.

Not even when her heart begged for it.

Needy slammed the locker shut, without looking back.

Her eyes burned, but she refused to cry in front of them.

She passed Regina with short, quick steps, ignoring the laughter that was still loud, even from a distance.

Later, the sun was beginning to set when Needy found Regina alone in the parking lot, leaning against her car as if the world hadn't cracked inside her.

The cold afternoon wind ruffled Regina's blonde hair, and for a moment, she seemed smaller, less untouchable, less made of ice.

— Why are you doing this to me? — Needy asked, her voice trembling, but firm.

Regina twirled the key between her fingers and let out a short, forced laugh. — Doing what?

— Humiliating me.

— It's not my fault if people talk. —  The sentence came out almost automatically, as if she wanted to convince herself.

— People talk because you let them talk, Regina. — Needy took a step forward.

The air between the two seemed to vibrate, tense. — You can end this. But you prefer to watch.

Regina looked away, her jaw clenched. — Do you think anyone will ever respect you knowing you're like this?

— Like what?  — Needy asked, and the silence fell like a stone.

Regina hesitated.

— Like… this! — she gestured, but the words refused to come out.

It was as if the mere idea of ​​the word "lesbian" tasted acidic in her mouth.

Needy took a deep breath.

— I'm not the problem, Regina. You are.

Her gaze wavered.

For a second, just one, Regina seemed on the verge of tears.

The veneer of perfection was beginning to crack.

But soon pride took the place of pain.

— Shut up. — she whispered, her voice faltering. — You know nothing about me.

She turned her back.

She took two steps, but before opening the car door, she murmured, almost in a whisper:

— I'm sorry, okay? I just… I'm sorry.

She got into the car and slammed the door shut.

The sound echoed through the empty parking lot, and Needy stood there, alone, feeling her heart break even more.

That night, Regina locked herself in the bathroom.

The house was silent, the distant sound of a reality show playing in the living room.

She looked at herself in the mirror, her face flawless, her makeup perfect, but her eyes… her eyes were empty.

She ran a hand through her hair, took a deep breath, and stared at her own reflection.

Her chest rose and fell in short spasms, her throat tight.

The memories of the kiss returned: the soft touch, the ragged breath, the heat that spread through her body like a fever…

“No one can know about this.”

The words echoed in her head again, but now, sounding like a curse.

It wasn't about hiding the kiss.

It was about hiding herself.

Regina pressed her forehead against the mirror.

The glass was cold, sharp.

She closed her eyes and whispered, almost voicelessly:

— I'm not like her. — But the reflection didn't answer.

She tried again.

— I'm not like her. I'm not one of them, I'm not like that.

But the reflection didn't believe her.

Her eyelashes trembled.

A strand of mascara ran down.

And, for a moment, the most feared girl in school was nothing more than a lost girl trying to convince the mirror that she was still in control.

Outside, the distant sound of crickets filled the warm night air. And in the silence between heartbeats, Regina realized something that hurts more than shame:

Missing the taste, the smell, the warmth of Needy.

Chapter Text

The school felt colder that morning. It wasn't the air conditioning, it was the air itself. A heavy silence hung in the hallways, broken only by the hollow sound of footsteps and the creaking of lockers being opened. Needy walked with a tense body, feeling each gaze slide over her like blades.

The rumor about the kiss was no longer a rumor. It had become a story, a joke, a hallway headline. Every day, a new version was born, and they all portrayed her as the villain.

"She threw herself at Regina."

"She tried to force a kiss."

"She's obsessed."

Needy pretended not to hear, but the whispers stuck to her like chewing gum under a desk.

When she reached the locker, she stopped for a moment. It was clean. The red paint was gone, but the strong smell of remover was still in the air: dense, chemical, suffocating. Even without the words, she still saw them, etched into her retina:

DIRTY FAGGOT.

 Two words that seemed tattooed on her skin.

She took a deep breath, adjusted her books, and continued on.

In the cafeteria, the hubbub was louder than usual. Laughter, overlapping voices, the sound of trays clattering. Needy sat alone, her fork trembling between her fingers. She tried to eat, but the food tasted like nothing. Then something hit her tray hard, a packet of napkins, which scattered over the bland pasta.

— Careful not to spread your gay virus on the table, Lesbnicki! — said a girl with a tight bun, laughing with a group.

The laughter spread like wildfire.

Needy swallowed the lump in her throat. The cafeteria spun, the sound seemed distant. She lowered her eyes, ready to pretend she didn't hear.

That's when a tray slammed shut on the table.

Jennifer Check.

She was there, with a sharp look and a clenched jaw.

— Repeat what you just said. — Her voice was low, but sharp.

The group fell silent. Jennifer didn't blink.

— Go on, repeat it. I want to see if it's as funny when there's no audience.

The girl with the bun stammered something inaudible and walked away.

Jennifer sat next to Needy, not caring about the stares that were popping up around her. She took a straw and drank a sip of her juice, as if nothing had happened.

— You need to stop letting those idiots win — she said, calmly but firmly.

— And what should I do? Pretend it doesn't affect me? — Needy's voice faltered, her eyes welling up. — Pretend that everyone isn't looking at me like I'm a monster?

Jennifer choked slightly, putting down her glass.

— You're not a monster. — she replied without hesitation. — You just fell for the wrong person. It happens.

Needy let out a bitter laugh.

 — "Wrong" is a kind word for someone who’s destroying my life.

Jennifer didn’t answer immediately. She just patted her friend’s shoulder, a light, protective touch.

Needy’s eyes lifted and, for a moment, met.

There was pain, but also recognition.

The kind of silent understanding that only someone who has been hurt can offer.

— You’re always on my side — Needy murmured.

Jennifer shrugged.

— I have always been, don’t you remember? When you fell off your bike, when the chemistry teacher made you cry, when that jerk Caleb left you out of the game. I’m not going to leave you now, nor ever.

The silence between them was almost beautiful. The sun streamed through the windows, gilding Jennifer’s brown hair and creating warm streaks on the floor.

She twirled the straw between her fingers, thoughtful.

— They’ll get tired, hm? The whole school. They always get tired of a target.

— And what I do until then? — Needy asked, her voice choked with emotion.

Jennifer leaned in, resting her shoulder against Needy's.

—Until then, you have me.

Needy took a deep breath, fighting back tears.

— I don't know what I would do without you.

— You would survive — Jennifer replied, with a small smile. — Just with less style.

They both laughed softly. For a moment, the world seemed to breathe again.

But on the other side of the courtyard, Regina George watched them.

Gretchen was talking about the dance, but the words sounded like white noise.

Regina saw Jennifer with her arm around Needy, saw the way Needy rested her head on her shoulder, and something inside her twisted.

Jealousy? Guilt? Shame?

She didn't know. She only knew it hurt.

She turned her face away, trying to hide it, but her gaze wavered.

 For a moment, she wondered: what if she had sided with Needy from the beginning?

But Gretchen called her again, and Regina lifted her chin, donning her usual smile, the shield she had learned to use better than anyone.

The day ended with the sun pouring orange down the hallways. Needy stopped at the water fountain, tasting the metallic flavor of the water in her dry mouth. That's when she heard footsteps behind her. Heavy ones.

Before she could react, a shove threw her against the wall.

Two boys were laughing. One of them was holding a cell phone, the red light flashing.

— Come on, Lesbnicki — one of them mocked. — Tell the camera how much you'd love to kiss Regina!

The laughter echoed, thick and disgusting.

Needy clenched her fists, her eyes welling up with tears. The floor seemed to suck her feet in, the air heavy in her chest.

And then a voice cut through the hallway.

— What are you doing?

Regina.

The boys exchanged glances, half laughing, half tense.

— Relax, Regina. We're just messing with your number one fan.

She took a step forward. Her heels echoed. A sly smile played on her face. — I can handle this alone. Get out of here.

They stepped back, exchanging laughs, and disappeared.

Needy was still trembling.

— I don't need your pity. — she murmured, without looking at her.

Regina hesitated. For a second, her gaze softened.

— I know — she replied softly, almost apologetically.

But before anything could be said, Gretchen and Karen appeared at the end of the hallway.

And, in the blink of an eye, Regina raised her chin, donned a venomous smile.

— Careful, Lesbnicki. — Her voice was now cold, calculated. — I won’t be able to save you every time you pretend you love me.

She walked past Needy, her heavy steps hitting the floor.

Needy stood there, alone, feeling her heart break a little more.

Later, the hot steam from the shower fogged the bathroom mirror in Regina’s house. She stared at herself through the raindrops, her hair stuck to her forehead, her eyeliner running. She wiped off her lipstick, then her mascara, until only her bare face remained, the one no one could see.

The towel slipped from her shoulders and she rested her hands on the sink, the cold marble beneath her fingers.

Needy's words echoed like a whisper inside her:

"People talk because you let them."

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to silence her voice.

But she couldn't.

Because Needy was right.

Regina pretended to hate her because the opposite was unbearable.

Because she still remembered the soft touch, the sweet and tense taste of that kiss.

And because, for a brief moment inside that closet, she had felt free.

Free from everything she had always pretended to be.

She ran her fingers over her lips, trembling.

— I'm not like her — she murmured. — I'm not one of them.

But the reflection in the mirror didn't believe her. Her teary eyes said otherwise.

Regina George, the perfect girl, the most feared in school, was breaking down, and, for the first time, she didn't know how to fix it.

Chapter Text

The morning began gray, even without clouds in the sky.

The air inside the school felt heavy, dense, filled with whispers that multiplied through the hallways.

Needy walked with her head down, the hood of her sweatshirt hiding part of her face.

She could still feel the stares burning into her back, the muffled giggles, the words whispered with venom.

She pretended not to hear.

But each "weirdo," each "freak" clung to her skin like thorns.

Near the lockers, three boys were waiting for her.

She recognized one of them: the same one who had laughed when she tripped on Regina.

She tried to get away, but the tallest one stepped forward, blocking her path.

— Hey, Lesbnicki — he said, with a crooked smile. — No need to run or scream, Jennifer is not here to protect you today. 

Needy clutched her books to her chest.

— Leave me alone.

 — We just want to talk — the second one scoffed. — Tell us, what it’s like to kiss Regina George? Is she good with her tongue?

The laughter echoed, sharp.

Needy tried to pass, but the first one pushed her against the locker.

The impact made the metal vibrate, the loud sound drawing the attention of some students further away.

But no one approached.

Another shove.

Then, a sharp punch, straight to the face.

The taste of blood filled her mouth.

She fell, and the laughter intensified.

That's when a shout rang out from the other side of the hallway:

“REGINA GEORGE FAINTED!”

Everyone turned.

Chaos spread in an instant: people running, teachers leaving their classrooms, cell phones raised.

The boys, frightened, fled before anyone realized what they had done.

While everyone crowded around the “fainted” girl, Regina George discreetly got up from the floor, with a slight, cynical smile. She was perfectly fine.

Taking advantage of the confusion, Needy ran to the infirmary.

Tears finally escaped as the door closed behind her.

The mirror showed the cut on her lip, her eye beginning to swell, the dried blood on her nose.

She sat on one of the stretchers and stayed there, trying to compose herself.

For a few minutes, only the distant sound of the school accompanied her.

Until the door opened slowly.

Regina.

She said nothing.

She locked the door.

For a moment, she stood still, observing Needy: her bruised face, her trembling hands, her eyes trying to look strong.

Her heart broke.

— I waited for them to leave — she murmured, approaching slowly. — I didn't want anyone to see.

— Why? — Needy's voice came out weak, bitter. — So that this doesn't affect your image?

Regina took a deep breath.

— So you wouldn't get beaten up again because of me. — Silence.

She knelt in front of the stretcher, opening the small first-aid kit.

Her hands trembled, but she still gently cleaned the blood, as if each touch pleaded for forgiveness.

— This is going to sting a little — she whispered.

— It's been stinging for days — Needy replied, her voice almost breaking.

The cotton touched the cut, and Regina blew lightly, trying to ease the pain.

— There — she murmured. — Better now?

Needy laughed dryly, humorlessly.

— Better? — she repeated, her voice choked with emotion. — Do you think a bandage can fix what you did to me?

Regina remained silent, and only after a few seconds murmured:

— I didn't want it to be like this.— Her voice was a whisper. — I swear.

Needy stared at her, her eyes brimming with tears. — You could have stopped them. You could have said a word.

 — And destroy the little control I still have? — Regina replied firmly, but her eyes trembled. — I’m trying to hold on, Needy. If I fall, they’ll destroy me too.

—Then let it fall. — Needy took a step forward. — Because I’ve been down here from the start, but that doesn’t affect you, does it?

Regina stopped.

And that’s when she truly saw Needy’s wounded face: the swollen eye, the cut lip.

Her throat tightened, her chest felt heavy.

—They did this… because of me — she whispered, almost voiceless.

Needy looked away, but didn’t answer.

Regina’s hands trembled.

And before she could stop herself, her eyes filled with tears.

She began to cry, an ugly, silent cry, the kind you try to swallow but can’t.

—I’m sorry… — she murmured, resting her forehead on Regina’s shoulder. — I'm sorry for everything. I swear I can't pretend I don't care anymore.

Needy closed her eyes, her fingers tracing her face.

— Then stop pretending — she said simply.

That was all it took.

Regina kissed her.

Not like before, not with fear.

But with desperation.

It was a kiss full of anger, guilt, longing.

The kind of kiss that begs for forgiveness without words.

Regina's tears mingled with Needy's, the taste of salt and blood fused between short breaths.

She held Needy's face and waist, as if she feared she would disappear.

And when they pulled away, the silence that remained was heavy. The kind of silence that only exists between two people who love each other and don't know what to do with it.

Regina cried harder, hiding her face in her neck.

— I'm in love with you — she escaped, in a whisper. — And I hate it. I don't want to be this, Needy.

Needy didn't answer.

She just hugged her, in silence.

Across town, the twins' house was bathed in a golden twilight.

Karen Smith's room was the opposite of Needy's: lavender walls, the scent of sweet perfume, and heart-shaped pillows.

Jennifer lay there, face down on the bed, biting a lollipop while watching Karen paint her nails.

They had both skipped school for a "girls' day."

— You paint too slowly — Jennifer teased, with a small smile.

— That's because I have patience — Karen replied, looking up. — Something you've never had.

Jennifer laughed.

— Oh, sure. Patient Karen Smith. Saint of suburban innocence.

Karen pouted, but ended up laughing too.

Her laugh was light, the kind of sound Jennifer hadn't heard in a long time without feeling guilty.

Since returning to town, Jennifer had been trying to understand why she still felt that pang when she looked at Karen.

 She was the same as always: distracted, sweet, a little spaced out.

But now there was something more, a kind of beauty that hurt to look at.

— What are you thinking about? — Karen asked, turning to the side.

Jennifer looked away.

— 'Bout how you still paint your nails the same color as when you were thirteen.

— Pink is my lucky color! — she replied, smiling. — And you? Still painting them black like a rebellious teenager?

— Of course. — Jennifer propped herself up on her elbows. — It suits my rebel soul.

Karen threw a pillow at her, and they both laughed.

The sound of laughter filled the room, light, sweet, a perfect contrast to the weight of school, to the poison that spread through the hallways.

But when the laughter ceased, the silence that remained was different.

Jennifer observed her for a moment: the golden sheen of her hair, the awkward way she blew on her nails to dry them.

 She wanted to say — you’re beautiful — but pride swallowed the words.

Instead, she just smiled slightly, letting her gaze do the talking.

Instead, she simply reached out, took Karen’s hand, and began painting one of her nails.

— Let me do it — she said, in a calm, almost affectionate tone.

Karen blinked, surprised. — Since when are you this kind?

— Never been. — Jennifer smiled. — But I can pretend well.

Karen laughed softly.

Their fingers touched for longer than they needed to.

One more second.

A second that made time seem to stand still.

— Jen… — Karen began hesitantly, but didn’t finish.

Jennifer looked up.

— What?

— Nothing — she replied quickly, looking away, blushing.

Jennifer just smiled and went back to painting.

The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable. It was dense, full of unspoken things. When she finished, Jennifer blew on Karen's nails and murmured,

— There. Now it's perfect, just like you.

Karen smiled shyly.

— You're the worst, Jen.

Jennifer chuckled, but her eyes said otherwise.

They said she would stay there forever if she could.

Back in the infirmary, Regina was still there, sitting beside the cot.

Needy slept, her face serene despite her injuries.

Regina ran her fingers slowly through her hair and whispered,

— I swear… one day I'll have the courage to do the right thing.

She stood up, adjusted the blanket over Needy, and walked to the door.

Before leaving, she looked back one last time.

The girl she loved slept, unaware that she was all Regina truly had.

Regina leaned in slowly, touching her lips to Needy's cheek; a short kiss, almost a whispered apology. Outside, the hallway was empty.

Most of the students had already left, and the sun streaming through the windows was pale, orange, casting long shadows on the ground.

The school seemed different. Silent, enormous, cold.

Regina leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, covering her face with her hands.

The last voices echoed in the distance, until only the sound of her own heart beating too fast remained.

And there, in that late afternoon that was already bidding farewell to the day, she cried, alone...

Hating herself for not knowing how to protect the only one that really saw her, the one she loves.

Chapter Text

In the last few days, Jennifer Check practically lived at the twins’ house.

She arrived early, left late, sometimes didn’t leave at all. She said it was "because their house had good energy" but nobody believed that. The truth was that Karen was there, and that was enough.

Their friendship had grown like someone lighting a candle in a dark room: slowly, but just enough to warm everything around it.

At first, Gretchen thought it was cute. Then, concerning. Regina? Regina hated it.

Seeing Jennifer, the Jennifer Check, walking through the halls with HER friend was like swallowing glass. It was like the girl was stealing everything she had, piece by piece.

— You’re playing with fire, Karen. — Regina had said one afternoon, leaning against the vanity while applying gloss.

Karen, sitting on the bed, swung her legs absentmindedly. — I’m just watching some movies, Regina.

— With my worst enemy.

She shrugged with the naturalness of someone who didn’t see the problem. — She’s nice to me.

Regina turned, her gaze steel-hard. — She is anything but nice.

Karen lifted her eyes, serene but firm. — Then why is she the only one who listens to me without trying to change me?

The answer never came.

Regina simply left the room, her sweet perfume hanging in the air like an open wound.
Since then, no one brought it up again. But the atmosphere among the Plastics was as sharp as a samurai’s katana. And Karen, for the first time in her life, couldn’t care less.

The afternoon was golden when Jennifer showed up again.

She threw herself belly-down on Karen’s bed, feet swinging in the air, chewing on a lollipop like she was trying to kill boredom.

Karen, sitting on the floor, painted her nails light pink with the concentration of someone praying.

— You spend a lot of time here, you know? — she murmured, not lifting her eyes.

Jennifer raised an eyebrow. — You complaining? — she asked, the lollipop stuck at the corner of her mouth.

Karen shrugged, a shy smile slipping out. — No.

Jennifer spun the candy, satisfied. — Ok then.

The room fell into a silence full of small things: the sound of the brush returning to the bottle, the crack of the lollipop, the soft hum of the air conditioner.

Jennifer watched her through the vanity mirror. The sunlight passed through Karen’s blonde hair, leaving golden sparkles that looked made up.

Jennifer sighed. — Regina thinks I’m manipulating you.

Karen looked up, unsurprised. — And are you? — she asked, in that neutral tone only she could pull off.

Jennifer gave a half-smile. — No. But sometimes I wish I were.

Karen blinked, not understanding. — Wish… why?

— Because it’d be a lot easier than actually liking you. — she answered, almost a whisper, before changing the subject. — Got remover? I smudged my nail.

Karen stared at her for a moment, confused, then went back to her nails.

But the sentence stayed in the air, throbbing, like perfume after the person has already left the room.

A few minutes later, Karen grabbed the hairbrush from the vanity and walked to the bed.

— Lie properly. — she said, tapping the pillow. Jennifer obeyed, curious, propping her chin on her arms.

Karen began brushing her hair with slow, careful movements.

The sound of the brush was almost hypnotic.

Jennifer closed her eyes, surrendered. — You should charge for this.

Karen smiled, watching the strands loosen. — Your hair is so… soft.

— And expensive. — Jennifer replied, laughing quietly.

— Everything about you seems expensive.

Jennifer opened one eye and stared at her reflection in the mirror. — Except my heart.

Karen froze for a second, the brush suspended in the air.

The sentence seemed to travel slowly through the room before finally reaching her. Jennifer looked away before she could say anything.

— There’s a knot here. — Karen said, resuming the movement as if trying to hide a blush.

— It’s not the only place with a knot though. — Jennifer murmured, so low it nearly became a thought.

Time passed softly.

Karen started talking about the neighbor’s dog, about chemistry class, about nothing in particular. Jennifer just listened, chin in hand, eyes drifting to Karen’s mouth, fascinated by the way her lips formed each word. It was like the whole world had shrunk to that.

Until Karen, without warning, asked:

— Can I ask you a kind of dumb question?

Jennifer stretched her arm to grab the lollipop from the nightstand. — You already did.

— Why do your boobs are so... eye-catching?

Jennifer choked. — What?! — she coughed, laughing at the same time.

Karen looked at her with complete seriousness. — I’m serious. Like… every time you walk in, they seem to… shine. It’s almost unfair.

Jennifer dropped the lollipop and burst into laughter. — My God, Karen!

But Karen persisted, gesturing with her hands, trying to explain. — It’s not in a… you know… pervy way! They’re just… pretty! Like a sculpture. I keep trying to understand why they’re so pretty!

Jennifer covered her face with her hands, laughing nonstop. — You’re a disaster.

Karen pouted, sitting on the edge of the bed. — You’re not answering my question.

Jennifer reached out and gave a light push to her shoulder. — And you don’t notice when you’re being adorable.

Karen turned her face slowly, half laughing, half blushing. — Adorable?

— Yes. — Jennifer answered, her voice dropping lower. — And annoying. Both at the same time.

Karen looked away, biting her lip.
Her heart beat fast for reasons she couldn’t understand.

Later, the two were lying side by side on the bed, their legs almost touching.

The lamp bathed the room in a warm, sleepy tone. Karen talked about her childhood, about how she always felt like "the wrong twin", the one who didn’t know what to say when everyone else already had an answer. Jennifer listened in silence.

And when Karen suddenly asked, in a thin voice:

— Do you think I’m dumb?

Jennifer turned, her eyes serious now. — Who told you that?

— The hallways whisper things. — Karen answered with a shrug.

Jennifer took a while to respond, but when she did, her voice was firm. — You’re not dumb, Karen. You’re just surrounded by people who shout too much to hear what you think.

Karen looked away, eyelashes trembling. — No one’s ever told me that.

Jennifer smiled softly, her expression softening.

The silence that followed wasn’t empty; it was full. Full of held breath, of unnamed feelings.

Karen rested her head on Jennifer’s shoulder, and Jennifer closed her eyes. Her heart beat in a strange rhythm: fear and peace mixed together. She wanted to hug her, wanted to kiss her, wanted to not want.

Instead, she lowered her head and planted a slow kiss on the top of Karen’s hair. The smell of cheap shampoo and cotton burned the air.

— Good night, blondie. — she whispered.

Karen gave a sleepy giggle. — Good night, miss trouble.

Jennifer stayed awake, staring at the ceiling.
Beside her, Karen slept peacefully, her face serene.

And Jennifer, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, realized she was completely lost; and that loving that girl would inevitably be her sweetest ruin.

Across town, night fell over the city like a heavy blanket. The street in front of the Georges’ house was empty, the windows dark.

Inside, Regina’s bedroom was a contrast: a bluish gloom, the weak lamp light drawing soft shadows on the walls. She couldn’t sleep. Her fingers tapped on the sheets impatiently, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Since the infirmary, the image of Needy wouldn’t leave her mind: the bruised face, the hard eyes, the way she’d said "let it fall".

Regina sat up, her messy hair falling over her shoulders. She sighed, grabbed her phone from the nightstand, and stared at the screen. Needy Lesnicki’s name was there, saved for days, but never in the recent messages.

Her thumb hovered over the message button.
But she didn’t type.
Not knowing what to say hurt more than the silence.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, in a pink bedroom lit by warm light, Jennifer Check slept with Karen Smith curled against her shoulder. The contrast was almost cruel. Where there was lightness here, there was a kind of heaviness there, a solitude that clung to the air.

Regina stood and went to the mirror. She looked at her own reflection: perfect, but exhausted. Her makeup still flawless, but her eyes… her eyes gave away everything she tried to hide.

She pressed cold fingers to the glass, as if she could slip through it. — You ruined everything, didn’t you? — she murmured to herself. The reflection didn’t respond, but seemed to mock her.

A soft sound came from the window. A small rock. Regina turned, startled. Another. And then a voice, low, familiar:

— Regina!

She hurried to the window and opened it carefully. Needy was there, wearing an oversized hoodie and a bandage on her face, looking up with a mix of defiance and nerves.

— Are you crazy? — Regina whispered, incredulous. — It’s almost eleven at night!

Needy shrugged. — And you’re still awake. Ironical, isn’t it?

Regina had no answer.

She went downstairs quietly, careful not to wake anyone, and opened the door. Needy stepped inside, hesitating, the night’s cold clinging to her skin. For a moment, the two just stared at each other. Neither knew what to say. Neither wanted to be the first to give in.

— Why did you come? — Regina asked, crossing her arms.

— Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. — Needy replied, bluntly.

Regina laughed; a short, fake sound. — This is a terrible idea.

— Then send me away.

Regina stayed silent.
And didn’t send her away.

The room was quiet again, but in a different way. Needy sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes drifting over the space: the expensive perfume, the perfectly aligned pillows, the photo of the Plastics smiling on the vanity. Regina stayed standing, watching her like someone watching a mistake they cannot undo.

— I shouldn’t have come. — Needy murmured.

Regina stepped forward, hesitant. — Then why did you come?

— Because I needed to see if you were okay.

Regina stopped. For a second, the air vanished from the room. — And do I look okay? — she asked, barely audible.

Needy looked up. — Not at all.

They stood there, a palm apart. Regina’s heart beat so loud she was sure Needy could hear it.

— I didn’t want— — Regina began, her voice cracking. — I didn’t want them to hurt you.

— But they did. — Needy cut in, firm.

— I thought I’d protect you by being cruel. — Regina said, trembling. — If I pretended nothing happened, no one would touch you.

— Guess what? They did.

Regina closed her eyes, guilt rising like fever. When she opened them again, Needy was already standing right in front of her.

— Why do I still care about you? — Needy asked, tears glimmering. — After everything you did… why?

Regina didn’t answer. She just lifted a hand and gently touched Needy’s face, thumb brushing the bandage. — Because I care too. — she said, almost voiceless.

Needy breathed in sharply, her body tense, torn between hurt and impulse. Regina took another step. The distance disappeared.

Their faces moved closer, not like the kiss in the infirmary, but like two people trying to understand their mistake before repeating it. Their breaths mixed, and time seemed to stop.

But this time, Needy was the one who turned away. She stepped back, wiping a tear too quickly.

— I can’t hate you and love you at the same time. — she whispered.

Regina gave a sad smile.
— Then hate me tomorrow.

Needy shook her head, too tired to argue. She turned to leave, but paused at the door.

— You still haven’t done the right thing, Regina.

— I know. — Regina whispered. — But one day I will. I promise.

Before leaving, Needy stepped closer and pressed her lips to Regina’s cheek — the same gesture Regina had given her in the infirmary. An echo. A wound reopening.

When she left, Regina stayed still for a long time. Then slowly sat on the bed, touching the spot where the kiss remained. Outside, the street was empty. Inside, the mirror reflected a perfect girl who was completely broken.

And for the first time in a long time, Regina George cried without hiding.

Meanwhile, across the city, Jennifer woke up with Karen’s arm draped over her waist. She looked at her, hair messy, breathing calm, and smiled softly.

— Good luck to me. — she whispered. — Because I’m screwed.