Author's Note: I was tired of writing all these sad Annie/Laurie stories, but didn't feel like writing anything too fluffy, so this happened. It's light, just for fun, and not to be taken too seriously.
"So you know Laurie Strode, right?" Lynda's voice is just above a whisper as she leans in closer to her best friend. "I heard she burned down a house or something over the summer. The bitch is crazy."
"Yeah, I'm sure," Annie rolls her eyes, fighting down the urge to look across the cafeteria.
"You know the head cheerleader? Annie something?" Harley talks with her mouth full, pretending not to know Annie's last name, and Laurie tries not to grimace. "Well apparently she's fucked half the baseball team or something crazy like that."
"Oh and like you haven't?"
"Hey! I'm a slut, you expect it from me. You don't expect her to get down on her knees in her cheerleading uniform."
Laurie's stomach twists at the mental image, her cheeks overheating already.
"I always knew you were hot for the little cheerleading bitch."
"Keep your voice down! And don't call her a bitch."
Laurie makes a bet with herself that if she can go the entirety of their shared English class without looking at Annie, then her crush isn't anything serious.
"...and that leaves Annie and Laurie as partners." The teacher concludes, Laurie's neck snapping in Annie's direction.
("Fuck" is her first thought).
Paul and Lynda tease Annie relentlessly as she heads to the library to meet up with Laurie, but she brushes them off, the excitement in her stomach only growing the closer she gets.
They work well together, but neither of them are surprised. They click in a way they probably shouldn't, considering their social circles, but Annie finds she couldn't care less as she throws her head back to laugh at something Laurie says.
"So I guess I'll be seeing you around?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Laurie blushes, scuffing her sneaker against the floor.
Annie turns away, pressing her hand to her own burning cheek.
A week after the project is handed in, Laurie spots a familiar letterman jacket in a tiny, overlooked bookstore on the edge of town.
"Didn't think I'd ever see you around here," Laurie breaks the silence between them in the Classic Literature section. Annie looks torn between wanting to run away and stay and talk to the other girl, and Laurie is suddenly glad she didn't break the ice with something like "Come here often?"
"I found this place over the summer," Annie grabs a book off the shelf, deciding to stay. "My friends don't know, though, so don't spread it around."
She plays it off as a joke, but her eyes tell Laurie something else.
The third time they run into each other at the bookshop, Annie hands her one of the books she was telling her about, and Laurie accepts it with a smile.
"Why don't your friends know you come here?" Laurie finally asks, sliding down the wall to sit next Annie, who has a stack of books waiting to be read sitting in her lap.
"I love Lynda and Paul. Well, I love Lynda. But over the summer I realized that they don't understand what I really want or who I really am."
"You don't love Paul?" Laurie blurts out before she can stop herself.
"I don't know, I just –" Annie pauses to collect her thoughts, and Laurie has to resist the urge to reach out and grab a hold of her hands. They're shaking and the blonde just wants to calm her down. "No, I don't. I don't think I ever have. I want to be honest with you because you're here and you're you and I feel like I can trust you."
Laurie tosses a quick smile her way, her breath getting lost, before responding, "Why are you with him then?"
"He's there," she shrugs. "I love the idea of having someone, and even though I know he's not the person I'm supposed to be with, I guess he works until I find them."
They fall into a comfortable silence, with Annie picking at the book in front of her as Laurie quietly watches her hands. Their breathing falls into sync, and she breaks the silence.
"Who are you really, then?"
If Annie's surprised by the question, she doesn't let it show.
"I like quiet. I like to sit at home on the weekends and I like to read books and cook and just feel safe and calm. The parties I get dragged to all the time make me feel—" She pauses, trying to come up with the words. It's as if this is an important moment for her, as if nobody's ever asked her this question before, and she wants to get the definition right. "Exposed. I feel like I'm out in the open and it's not safe for me to be out there like that. I need stability and I need to know what's next."
"Well I don't like to cook, but I like to eat." Laurie doesn't want to put the pressure on after a confession like that. "And I'd really like to get to know the other you."
"What are you doing this weekend?"
"Who are you really, Laurie?" Annie turns the tables on her as they stand outside the bookshop, the heat of the sun kissing their skin one last time before fall starts to set in.
Laurie lights a cigarette and Annie scrunches her nose.
"I'm me," she flicks her cigarette, her other hand coming up to touch the hairstyle Harley talked her into. "I'm still trying to figure out exactly who that is."
They fall into a pattern of meeting up outside of school, whether it be at the bookstore or at each other's houses when their friends aren't around. Laurie finds herself skipping out on other plans just to be around the version of Annie she's been getting to know.
She had a crush, a mostly physical one, if she's honest, on the popular Annie she admired from across classrooms and assemblies. But the Annie she sees outside of school, the one who smiles unrestrained when she sees her and who has a sharp, witty sense of humor but a love for quiet activities, has her falling head first.
The Annie she sneaks glances at in school isn't the same one who crawls through Laurie's bedroom window whenever she has the chance, but she still shines through once in a while, just for her.
Sometimes it's a jab to her side as she's digging through her locker, a quick "hey" whispered in her ear as Annie passes by.
Other times, it's a wink in her direction from across the cafeteria as they catch each other searching for one another in a sea of bodies. (Brown manages to meet blue every single time).
Laurie's running late to class, quickly grabbing books from her locker and jamming them into her bag, when Mya approaches her. She adjusts her glasses, glancing around for Harley or anyone who might overhear, before she starts talking.
"Uh, Laur, I really don't want to freak you out, but I just had to tell you that it's okay - I know. There isn't any reason to keep it from me."
Laurie pauses.
"What?"
"I've been your best friend for ages. Of course I'm going to learn to love whoever you love."
"No, Mya, what are you talking about?"
"You and Brackett sneaking around."
"Me and – it's not like that." Laurie stutters, her bag slipping from her grasp and landing softly on the floor.
"Babe, come on. I know you. I know you've been into her since junior high, for god's sake." Mya finishes her response with an eye-roll.
"You don't get it," Laurie shuts her locker hard, accepting she isn't making it to class anytime soon. "I want it to be like that, but for her it just isn't."
"Have you talked to her about it?" Mya's gaze is too steady, too serious, and it makes Laurie's palms sweat. She thinks back to the previous week, when Annie confided that she didn't like confrontation about anything regarding emotions, and decides that she has that in common with the brunette.
"No?"
"Then how do you know she doesn't want it too?"
Laurie planned to talk to Annie about it. She swears that she had a speech prepared for this moment. But then Annie smiled that smile, and Laurie kissed her, mentally saying "fuck it" to the plan.
And then Laurie ran, and it wasn't even in the figurative sense.
No, she literally took off running.
At school the next day, she ignores Annie, skips English, and chain smokes a pack of cigarettes.
Annie holds Paul's hand at lunch and pretends like everything is as it should be.
A week of silence follows them around, the strain showing on their faces. Annie has circles under her eyes that almost match her hair; Laurie's hair is hanging in loose strands, reeking of cigarettes.
On the ninth day of no-Annie, Laurie wakes up in the library two hours after classes have ended, groaning at the realization that her mother is going to kill her. She pulls herself up and starts making her way down the hall, but doesn't make it past the changing room near the gym.
As she passes the entrance, a familiar arm yanks her in.
"Listen, Laurie," Annie comes into focus in the dim lighting just as she lightly slams the blonde into the locker closest to the door she pulled her through, her arm gripping her waist, holding her in place. "I'm sick of us dancing around each other, okay?"
All Laurie can do is nod, and she can hear Harley calling her a little bitch in the back of her mind.
"You kissed me."
Another nod
"And then you ran away."
Laurie opens her mouth to explain, and Annie kisses her right there up against the locker.
(As she pulls on Laurie's hands, placing them on the strip of thigh hidden just under her cheerleading skirt, her tongue twisting into her mouth with perfect timing, Laurie decides that maybe talking about it isn't always the best option).
They fall back into their routine, except make out sessions are now wedged in between all of their other activities. Annie cooks; Laurie kisses her against the fridge. Laurie picks a movie to watch; Annie slips her hands under her shirt within the first ten minutes. Annie confesses something new about herself; Laurie comforts her with a kiss that doesn't lead anywhere.
They haven't had sex yet, Laurie wants to save that for when they're official (if they become official, she has to keep reminding herself), but she still feels guilty nonetheless. Annie gasps under her, her top pulled up over her chest, and Laurie pauses, suddenly thinking about the boy Annie is supposed to be committed to.
She tells herself that he's rude, that he's immature, that he isn't what Annie wants. And then she kisses his girlfriend.
Now that they're in each others' lives, Annie cooks more vegetarian dishes and Laurie smokes less cigarettes.
"I think you're going to change me."
"I think we're going to change each other."
Annie wears a purple dress and goes to the Winter Formal with Paul; Laurie wears a black one and spikes the punch.
Afterwards, in one of the hotel rooms paid for by the cheerleading team, both dresses end up on the floor.
"You're the person. You're the person." Annie whispers over and over, her breath smelling faintly of vodka and fruit punch. It's better than an "I love you". Hell, it's better than an "I'll leave him". And so Laurie opens herself up fully for the other girl, in more ways than one. She doesn't care if it's official; all she cares about is that it's Annie.
As Christmas rolls around, and night starts to fall along with the snow, Laurie finds herself wondering where Annie is while she nods along to a cousin's story. In the months they've been getting to know each other, and subsequently falling in love, she's learned that the smaller girl is Jewish (on her absent mother's side, but Jewish nonetheless), so Laurie knows that she isn't spending today doing what everyone else is.
"Laurie, honey," she snaps out of her daze to look at her mother standing in the doorway. "Your friend is outside."
Sure enough, there's Annie. Standing in the front porch, snow falling all around her, sticking to her dark hair in clumps.
"Annie? It's snowing out, what are you doing? And where were y—"
"Babe," Annie interrupts, and Laurie blushes. "I'm sorry I haven't been around today, but I was really busy getting your present together."
Laurie glances at the envelope in her mitten-covered hands. "A card? You spent all day getting me a card?"
"Just open it."
Scrawled inside the generic Christmas card, in Annie's light, bordering-on-messy handwriting, are three words Laurie never thought she'd read (or hear).
I left him
"Are you serious?" Laurie gasps out, her breath stuck somewhere in her ribcage.
Annie nods, her teeth gnawing on her bottom lip.
"Merry Christmas, Laurie."
And with her entire family sitting inside, she kisses Annie on the front step, the fat flakes of snow melting on her face and mixing with the happy tears she'll never tell Mya and Harley about.
In the months following, because she knows she has Laurie's support, Annie applies to culinary school. And because they know they have each other, they face their separate groups, their families, and eventually the entire school, as a couple.
("I always knew you were hot for the little cheerleading bitch," Harley repeats when they tell her. Laurie smacks her; Annie just rolls her eyes).
Annie still confesses things, but now they're not major personality traits (Laurie knows all those. She'd know all of them even if Annie didn't tell her everything.) but things that will help them to continue growing as a unit.
In the spring, Laurie climbs into the shower with Annie, letting her girlfriend pull her fingers, covered in expensive shampoo, through her hair. Afterwards, she decides that the pseudo-dreads have met their match, but her wardrobe hasn't. She still wears plaid shirts that hang off of her tiny frame, but now she lets Annie borrow them to wear to bed.
Annie stops facing problems with a whiny voice and a lot of snark. She tries to be an adult, no matter how hard it can be. (Well, the whine goes. The comments stay around.)
In the end, they were wrong. They didn't change each other. They just grew up, hand in hand, alongside each other.