ink-splattered notebook paper

by bs13

Josie's life is complicated; she has an ex-girlfriend she's still in love with, an almost-friend she pretends to hate, and a sister consumed with ruling the school. Plus—to make matters worse—she has four secret love letters that have accidentally been mailed out. So. (Not exactly a stellar beginning to junior year.)

2. two

So maybe running is now her thing.

At least the Mystery Diner is her safe haven; Josie might never have a moment of peace from here on out, but she can still have a milkshake. The only downside is that it's also Hope's place, so Josie will have to be extra careful when dropping by.

And yet, just as Josie is lulled into a false sense of security, fate decides it must be cruel; Penelope Park walks in.

She spots Josie about a second after Josie sees her. Much to Josie's dismay, Penelope walks right up to the counter and takes a seat one stool over.

"Hey," says Penelope, and she gives Josie a brief nod as if to acknowledge her presence—as if, Josie thinks, she hadn't planned this entirely.

Josie resists the urge to frown. "Are you following me?" she demands sourly.

An amused half-smile is her answer. "No, but it was easy to guess you'd be here," Penelope says. "This is your place to escape."

"Well, it's rude to intrude," Josie mumbles without any bite, toying with the end of her straw wrapper in order to distract herself.

Landon Kirby comes out from the back soon afterwards, thankfully delaying any conversation for a while. He blinks at Penelope in surprise, then seemingly places her. "Haven't seen you in a while," he says. "What can I get you?"

"Just a root beer." Penelope barely even looks at him. "Thanks."

The dismissal is enough to drive Landon away, and then Penelope and Josie are alone again. Perfect.

But Penelope doesn't say anything. And Josie, finally, takes it upon herself to break the silence. "You know, I'm pretty sure it was an unsaid rule," she says, "that I get this place in the breakup."

Penelope gives a huff of disbelivinging laughter. "We didn't get a divorce, Josie," she says. "And I don't care about this place—I'm not here to stake a claim on mediocre burgers and shitty milkshakes or whatever. I just came to find you."

This time, Josie's frown wins out. "Why?"

"Um, I'd say that's pretty self-explanatory," Penelope says. "I came to ask about what happened in P.E."

"Oh. That." Glumly, Josie sucks up another mouthful of her melting milkshake; it's so cold she nearly gets a brain freeze from the sip alone.

"Yeah, that." Penelope rests one arm on the counter, gaze burning along the side of Josie's face. "Care to explain?"

"Like you gave me an explanation for our breakup?" says Josie unthinkingly, and it works to make Penelope wince. "Yeah. I thought so."

Penelope turns away briefly, then finally angles her body sideways to stare at Josie fully, reluctant as though this is all a big inconvenience to her. "I thought you didn't care about my reasons."

"I don't." Josie refocuses on her glass. "And I don't want to hear what you have to say, so…"

"Right. Except, I kind of feel like I should be more clear?" Penelope leans forward, the ambivalent tone of her voice hard to miss. "I'd still like to be friends—even if you're opposed to the idea, clearly—but not anything more. That's kind of the whole point of…breaking up."

Josie blinks. "Are you really breaking up with me twice?"

"It's not that—we're not together anymore," Penelope tries instead. "If I gave you mixed signals or something…"

"Oh my God. Don't hurt yourself trying to sound concerned," Josie says. "I have no interest in getting back together, okay?"

At that moment, Landon arrives with Penelope's drink. He also must have caught the end of their conversation, because he appears pained to witness it.

Penelope ignores the fact that they now have an audience. "Josie, you kissed me. Pretty publicly. What am I supposed to think?"

"That wasn't—it wasn't real."

"It felt pretty real. I still have your lip gloss on my mouth." Penelope taps her lips as proof, and Josie reddens.

"I didn't kiss you because I wanted to," Josie argues weakly. "It has to do with the letters, okay? So…get over yourself."

Penelope raises a quizzical eyebrow. "Letters? Damn, Josie, that was quick."

Josie rolls her eyes. "Shut up. You're one to talk," she says, and before Penelope can argue, she soldiers right on. "Anyway, someone has been trying to talk to me about their letter, and I can't do that, so…I had to kiss you to make her think I don't like her."

"Ah, the age-old jealousy schtick," Penelope says, but her blasé expression is not as satisfied as Josie had expected it to be. "Do you?"

"What?"

"Do you still like this girl?"

Of course not, but all Josie does is furrow her brow and say, "That's none of your business."

"Fair enough," Penelope says. Her face remains as notably impossible to read as ever; Josie can't tell if Penelope is surprised or hurt. If it were the latter she'd bet that Penelope Park's precious ego can't fathom that she is not as irresistible as she thinks.

"If that's all you had to ask…" Josie prompts, hoping Penelope will leave and allow her some quiet.

But then Penelope says, "It's Hope, right? The girl you're avoiding."

Josie's heart plummets to the pit of her stomach. "What?"

"She's the only reasonable answer. If Lizzie finds out you like Hope, then she'll lose her shit," Penelope says. "And the last thing you want is Lizzie unhappy."

"Maybe I do like Hope," Josie lies; she can't stand how transparent she is right now, and declaring her feelings for someone else tends to make Penelope falter. "It's really not your business either way."

"Right, yeah." Penelope's root beer is barely touched, but she pushes it in Josie's direction. "Want the rest?"

"No." Josie's heart thumps at the memory of a simpler time, a time when she would have happily taken her up on the offer.

And Penelope, surprisingly, doesn't push. "Okay. Then I guess…that's it."

(Josie doesn't dignify that with a response.)

.

.

.

Jed's letter gets sent back to the Saltzman household.

It is a relief that Josie had addressed it to the now-closed camp. Jed is probably the only person who would make a big deal out of it, being the jerk that he is. (Well, besides Penelope, but even her reaction had been tamer than Josie had anticipated). This leaves Josie in a relatively good mood that morning, all things considered. Even the bus ride to school can't put a damper on her mood.

"Josie, hey, wait up!"

…but that can. Shit.

"Hi, Rafael," Josie says weakly. She has been dreading what Rafael will think of his letter. His hadn't even been bad, but she would hate to give him the impression that she's still interested. After all, she'd wrote that letter before she and Penelope even got together—it had been a confusing time, the lapse between attempting to get over her hopeless crush on Penelope and then actually dating Penelope.

Rafael jogs up beside her, thankfully without any of his football buddies noticing. (Sometimes they're as bad as a group of gossipy teenage girls, the way they tease). "Hey," he says somewhat awkwardly, falling in step beside her. "Uh—I think this is yours." He fishes a crumpled envelope from his backpack, which he then passes over. "It seemed kind of personal?"

Josie knows how pathetic she must look; a grimace on her face, her cheeks flared red. "Rafael, I'm so sorry. You weren't supposed to get that," she says. "It was more of—well, something for me. I would never send that to you while you're dating someone."

"Hey, no worries." Rafael shrugs, hitches his backup back up onto his shoulder. He smiles in that kind-but-hesitant way of his, endearingly shy. "You said some flattering stuff."

"I did write it so long ago," Josie hastens to add, just to reassure him. "I really don't feel that way about you anymore. Um, no offense."

"None taken." Rafael laughs a little, then shakes his head. "So—are you heading to homeroom?"

Josie, relieved, nods in affirmation. "Yeah, I'm on my way."

Rafael gestures loosely in direction of the building. "Want to walk together?"

"Sure." Josie is pleasantly surprised by this turn of events. That…actually hadn't been too terrible, all things considered.

And since the aftermath of three of her letters has been cleared up, Josie can devote all her energy towards avoiding Hope. It works out immensely in her favor that Rafael walks with her to class, because they end up passing Hope in the hallway—and even though Josie feels Hope's eyes on her, she knows Hope would never make a scene.

The shame of avoiding her almost-friend still pains Josie greatly. But she hates confrontation, and right now her best bet looks like avoiding Hope until graduation. Fun.

When she and Rafael part ways Josie assumes she's in the clear. As the world tends to remind her, however, that is far from the case; Lizzie comes find her soon enough.

"Josie! Spill. Kaleb told me you walked with Rafael to class today. Did he mention me?"

MG, who's apparently been dragged along for the ride, looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here. "Since when is talking about Rafael an emergency?" he complains, affronted, but Lizzie doesn't care to answer his question.

Josie shakes her head and pretends to be consumed with flipping through her pre-calc book. "No, he didn't say anything," she says.

Lizzie frowns. "Then why'd he walk with you?"

"I don't know, he…was probably just trying to be friendly," Josie lies. "I know his brother, so…"

"Rafael has a brother?"

"Uh, yeah? Landon Kirby. He was your lab partner last semester."

When understanding dawns on her, Lizzie snaps her fingers. "Right! The thrift store hobbit," she says. "I remember he had a thing for Hope Mikaelson. That was so sad."

Her sister looks far too pleased at her jab, but Josie takes a chance on defending her friend anyway. "You know…" she tries. "Hope isn't that bad."

"You're kidding," Lizzie scoffs, but her expression hardens once Josie bites her lip and glances away. "Josie. Hope Mikaelson literally told the school I was crazy."

She didn't, Josie thinks with a turning stomach. "I know, but—" she forces herself to exhale. "Well, Dad thinks she's great. And she always takes us to school."

"A few rights don't make up for what she's done," Lizzie scoffs. "Until she actually apologizes, I don't care what goes on with her."

"Right, but, that was such a long time ago," Josie says, "and Hope probably feels bad but doesn't want to say anything…"

Lizzie stares at her like she's grown an extra head. "What is up with you? Why are you defending her?"

"I'm not! I'm just, all about second chances."

MG clears his throat. "Hey, so, class is going to start soon…" he says nervously. The unintentional interruption distracts Lizzie enough so Josie can drop her gaze to her desk. "Should we go?"

"Fine," Lizzie sighs. "See you later, Josie." This time she doesn't sound miffed; Josie will take that victory, however small.

Maybe if she comes clean to Lizzie then she won't have to avoid Hope anymore. And maybe they can all truly be friends again, like they used to be. Life would be so much simpler.

If only middle-school-aged Josie knew how disastrous one little lie would turn out to be.

.

.

.

With the weather staying pleasant, Alaric decides he's going to host a barbecue—and, unfortunately, the Mikaelsons are pretty much the only people on the guest list.

"Can't I stay inside my room?" Josie pleads as she helps carry out the food. "I'm not hungry. I think I might be getting sick…"

"Josie, it's a beautiful day. Have one burger with us. I got veggie patties just for you," Alaric says. Quieter he adds, "We haven't spent much time together as a family since school started. I think we need this."

Josie's shoulders slump. "Okay," she gives in. "You're sure Mom's coming?"

"She is. She promised."

"Fine." Josie sits down in a lawn chair, glumly resigned to observing as her father fires up the grill. He's hapless with it, but he tries.

Lizzie, in the meantime, is trying to invite as many people as she can get away with. MG is a sure deal—Josie is still waiting for Lizzie to realize how hopelessly in love with her he is—and Kaleb will probably come if only for the free food.

Within the hour their mom has arrived. Lizzie won't admit how happy she is to see her, so Josie hugs Caroline extra tight to make up for it.

The Mikaelsons come next, but thankfully, so does MG; Josie attaches herself to his side immediately, leaving Hope to socialize with Alaric and the other parents.

"So is it true that you made out with Penelope Park in P.E.?" MG asks. "Jed told Kaleb you did."

"We don't say her name, remember?" Josie sighs, taking a long drink of the watered-down vodka that Kaleb himself has brought in. "Ugh. Does everyone know I did that?"

"Yeah, pretty much," MG says, apologetic. "But you're nursing a wounded soul and all that. It's natural to slip."

Josie rubs at the inside of her wrist, feels her skin warm from the alcohol. "It's not that. I didn't even want to kiss her," she mumbles.

"Hey, no judgement. I know this has been hard for you." MG throws an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly. "Lizzie wanted to bulldoze you about it, but I talked her out of it. You're welcome."

"That's impressive," Josie says, elbowing him lightly. "It's been like a week and Lizzie hasn't said anything."

"Exactly! That was all me, I'm that great." MG grins as he elbows her back, clumsily enough to make Josie laugh.

She almost asks him about his obvious crush on Lizzie, but ultimately doesn't. It would be mean, she thinks, to make him suffer along with her.

"Hey, Josie? Can we talk?"

MG must feel her stiffen, because he gives her a questioning look. Josie unwillingly glances up and sees exactly what she'd dreaded: Hope Mikaelson standing in front of her.

"Um," Josie says, "I would, but, MG and I were just about to eat, so…"

"We can always wait, if you have to—" MG cuts himself off at the sharp pinch to his side. "Yep, yeah, we were about to eat actually."

Hope nods, stiff and dejected, and takes a step back. "Then maybe later?" she hedges. Her eyes dart to MG briefly, almost as if unsure to let on that she and Josie talk.

"Later, definitely," Josie promises with no intend to keep it. The instant Hope walks away she jumps to her feet and says, "How do you feel about a nighttime drive?"

MG blinks. "What?"

"Let's go on a drive," Josie clarifies. She doesn't have to look to see that MG is thrown off at the very idea. "I'll let you drive if that makes you feel better."

"Okay…" MG trails after her as she makes her way inside, clearly uneasy. "Is there a reason we're avoiding Hope?"

"We're not," Josie says, tossing him her car keys. "I just decided I want a milkshake."

"You had a craving for a milkshake when your dad's out there grilling your favorites? I saw him throw zucchini on that grill. You sure you want to give it up for McDonald's?" MG asks.

"I'll…explain what's happening eventually, alright? Just please don't ask me any more questions tonight," Josie implores. "I need to get away for now."

"Hey, no, I'm your guy," MG says. "I could go for a milkshake."

Josie breathes a little easier once they're on the road. MG always knows what to say; he doesn't mention Hope, Penelope, or any other topic that might be too heavy—instead he talks about superheroes, and how in English he plans to give the best presentation on Dracula that the school has ever seen.

Once they're seated in the McDonald's parking lot, both with lackluster milkshakes in hand, Josie breaks the silence on her end. "Hey, MG?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think—you've ever been in love?" It comes out in a rush, barely audible to anyone's ears, and seemingly gives MG pause.

"Honestly? No," MG answers. "Not that I don't love you guys, or anything…"

"I know what you mean," Josie says. She glances down at her hands, realizes they're shaking. "I think…I was in love with Penelope." She rests her cup against her cheek for the chill of the melting ice and admits, "I think I might still be in love with Penelope. And she doesn't want anything to do with me."

"I'm sorry, Josie," MG says quietly. "That sucks."

Josie has long lost her appetite but she continues to methodically stir her milkshake with her straw, never mind that it's pathetic. "I have to ask," she says. "Did she—did she tell you she was going to do it?"

"Peez and I aren't close enough friends for that," MG says. "But you know I would've told you if I even suspected she'd…you know."

"Yeah." Josie resolutely sets her cup aside, then sinks back in her seat. "What do you think about Hope?"

A beat. "Uh, I don't really think about Hope," MG says. "Is that a trick question?"

"She's my friend," Josie blurts out, because she has to tell someone and this secret has been building up a tension she didn't even realize has been kept tight in her shoulders, her chest, her head. "Lizzie doesn't know it, but Hope is my friend."

"Right," MG says slowly. "What's the big deal between Hope and Lizzie anyway? If Hope's your friend, why would that matter?"

"It's Lizzie. She can hold a grudge forever if she wants to," Josie retorts pointedly. "I don't know how to tell her the truth about why she hates Hope so much."

"And the truth is…"

Josie bites her lip, suddenly regretful. "It's complicated," she settles on saying. "I'll tell you about it sometime."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Jo," MG assures her. "But I'm here for you."

"Thanks, MG." Josie gives him a grateful smile. "And I'm sorry for dragging you all the way out here. Oh my God, wait—I didn't even let you eat anything!"

MG laughs. "You can make it up to me by buying me chicken nuggets," he suggests. "And you can't say anything about how gross they are."

"I promise I won't complain," Josie swears, "even if they can barely be classified as chicken—"

"Josie! That counts as saying something!"

.

.

.

"I have an idea."

Josie doesn't bother to lift her eyes from her textbook. "You are like a lingering cough," she mutters, then calmly turns the page.

Penelope, undeterred, squeezes up beside Josie on the library bench. "Hear me out," she says. "You're still avoiding Hope, right?"

"We've established that's none of your business."

"Right, but like I said, I have an idea." Penelope glares at the flurry of people shushing her a table away, promptly quieting them when they realize who she is. Nonetheless, she still lowers her voice. "I think we should pretend we're back together."

At that, Josie nearly tears the next page mid-turn. "What?"

"You don't want her to know you have a crush on her, so dating me would make sense," Penelope goes on to elaborate, as if she hasn't just dropped the equivalent of a bomb. "Plus, it would explain why you kissed me in P.E."

"I don't—" Josie bites her tongue before she argues that she does not, in fact, have a crush on Hope. "I-I don't need to explain anything to anyone, actually."

"Really."

"Yes, really." Josie tries her best to glower. "That is the stupidest thing you've ever suggested."

"Ouch, Jojo." Penelope grasps at her heart, feigning hurt. "I'm just trying to help you out here."

"I don't need your help," Josie snaps.

"But it wouldn't hurt to have it," Penelope returns, just another part of this never-ending dance between them.

Josie squares her jaw and tries not to lose her composure. "No one would believe for a second that we broke up and suddenly got back together a few months later," she says.

"Your friends might doubt it, but everyone else wouldn't," Penelope counters. "I don't know if you know this, but I kind of have a reputation for being charming."

Josie rolls her eyes. "You're insufferable."

"That's part of the charm," says Penelope, paired with a teasing wink that Josie pretends not to notice.

"What would you get out of pretending we're back together?" she demands instead. "You made it very clear we're broken up."

"That's why it would only be pretend," Penelope points out. "We wouldn't actually date, just…let people think we are."

"Which is, again, the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Josie reiterates. "You don't have to concern yourself with what goes on in my life anymore, remember?"

The corner of Penelope's mouth twitches, as though she is fighting a smile. "You have a tendency to be very cruel when you want to be," she says. "It's kind of hot."

"Oh my God." Josie slams her book shut. "We're not doing this!"

The chorus of people shushing starts up again and Josie, contrite, shuts her mouth. When she glances at Penelope out of the corner of her eye, she notices Penelope is fidgeting with the cuffs of her jacket.

All at once the trademark audacious demeanor of Penelope Park vanishes. "I'm sorry," she says, dropping her gaze to her hands. "Sometimes it's easy to forget that we're not…" She doesn't finish her thought, but Josie knows what she means.

Josie's breath traitorously hitches. "It is?" she doesn't mean for her voice to come out so fucking hopeful, but here she is. "That's…" She shakes her head. "That's all the more reason not to pretend we're back together," she maintains firmly. "We can't blur the lines."

"Maybe it's a bad idea," Penelope agrees, unexpectedly, and when she raises her head again she tilts it in an effortless coquettish manner—a way of masking her previous vulnerability, most likely. "But you and I both know I've never shied away from those."

A pause. "It's not just that," Josie says. "You hurt me. That's not going to go away. I'm…I'm still mad at you."

The tentative playfulness vanishes from Penelope's face completely. "Then let me make it up to you by helping you. I promise, I'm not offering this to hurt you," she says, and the worst part is that she seems earnest—seems apologetic. "I want it to be a start towards being friends."

"I've already told you I don't want to be your friend," Josie reminds her, but it comes out quiet and not nearly as defensive as she would've liked.

"Yeah, but I'm persistent," Penelope says. "It's part of—"

"Do not say it's part of your charm," Josie cuts her off. "The answer is no, okay? I'm not interested."

"You don't have to give me an answer now." Penelope takes her time to stand up, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles from her jacket. "Think about it."

"I promise I won't," Josie scoffs, turning right back to her book. The words are swimming on the page, blurred and illegible, before a torn piece of paper slides into her eye of sight.

Penelope's fingertips trace down the center of the page before she tucks the folded paper against Josie's hand. "Jed's throwing a party tomorrow night," she says. "In case you want to come."

Josie swallows thickly, feels the way Penelope's hand lingers against hers for a second too long. "Don't hold your breath," she says.

"I'll be there," Penelope says anyway. "If you change your mind."

This time, she doesn't stick around for a retort. Penelope does not look once back when she walks away; Josie knows, because she watches. Despite her better judgement, Josie unfolds the slip of paper to find an address scrawled lopsidedly across the bleeding lines.

Inexplicably, she doesn't feel the urge to throw it away.

.

.

.

"Hey, why does Lizzie think you're into Nia?"

"Huh?" Josie barely manages to catch the basketball as it's thrown to her, much less toss it back.

MG has to snatch it out of the air before it goes flying towards the pair beside them. "Lizzie said you like Nia," he repeats. "Is that true?"

"Oh. No," Josie says. "Why did she tell you that?"

"She wants to set you two up on a date," MG says, and then he squarely passes the ball back. "Please help. I haven't studied in four days because she keeps dragging me into her schemes."

"You can tell her no. That's allowed," Josie says. She fumbles the next catch, and has to slow down to pick up the ball all over again.

"But then she'd hate me. You're the one who told me she can hold a grudge," MG points out.

Josie pauses to brush the sweat off her forehead. "MG, when are you going to ask her out?" she asks. "It's kind of sad how long you've been pining."

MG misses the next catch entirely. "What?" he yelps. "I'm not—I'm not pining."

"You so are," Josie says. Their conversation is halted by the cry of the P.E. teacher's whistle, which means their exercise is over for now. As they fall back in line with the other students, MG leans in to whisper,

"Even if I did—which I don't!—it's not like it would matter, remember? She's into Rafael."

"Yeah, but Lizzie crushes on tons of unavailable boys," Josie whispers back. "We both know it's never going to happen."

"What is it with everyone trying to help me with Lizzie lately? Am I that predictable?" MG frowns. "First Peez, now you…"

"Wait. Penelope offered to help you ask out Lizzie?" Josie says. "When?"

"Earlier this summer." MG shifts from foot to foot, as though slightly uncomfortable with the reminder. "I-I didn't want to say anything, obviously, since that's when…everything went down."

"You mean when she dumped me," Josie says. "It's okay, you can say it."

"Obviously I didn't take her up on it!" MG adds, quickly. "I'm team Josie. You know that, right?"

"You're allowed to stay friends with her, MG," Josie says, though the sincerity in her friend's voice is enough to prompt a sincere smile. She's touched that MG was willing to take her side—if, of course, there was a need to take sides. "I don't mind."

"Yeah?" MG grins back. "Don't worry, I'll keep all mention of her to a minimum."

"Thanks." Josie hands off their basketball, then stops to retie her shoes. "You're done for the day, right? Want to come by my house?"

"Nah, I'm not a free man yet. Kaleb has football practice and I'm heading there to see him," MG says. "You can come too! Lizzie said she was going to try to make it, if I drop her off later."

"I guess I can do that," Josie says. "I assume she's going there to watch Raf?"

"Who would she be if she wasn't?"

It is not the afternoon Josie envisioned, but it certainly beats evading Hope on a walk to the bus area. MG shares a bag of popcorn he's brought along and they make a game of trying to catch pieces in their mouths; MG is an expert, while Josie can't quit giggling enough to match his success.

Practice is underway by the time they arrive. The warm afternoon air is thick with shouts from the football players, thick with cheers from the smattering of students that have come to watch. Someone drums against the metal of the bleachers, a sharp, upbeat melody that eventually morphs into at least four people clapping to the beat of "We Will Rock You."

"I'm going to say hi to Kaleb," MG says. "You want to find Lizzie?"

"Sure." Josie has always liked crashing Kaleb's practice; it's a much more lowkey version of a proper game. Plus, Josie gets to enjoy the scene more—gets to take in the scent of new footballs, the scent of newly-mowed grass. Something about it is comforting.

She finds Lizzie alone on the bleachers. Lizzie wordlessly scoots over when Josie approaches, then says,

"You didn't come home with us yesterday."

"Yeah, I took the bus," Josie says. "I actually really like taking the bus, you know?" She swings her legs mindlessly, enjoying the fact that she can since no one is sitting below them.

"Because of Nia?" Lizzie prompts. It's only at the question that Josie realizes Lizzie has been staring at her side profile—scrutinizing, more like. "Josie, tell me something. Are you over Penelope?"

It's blunt in a manner Lizzie tends to be. Josie's mouth falls open to respond, but she can't quite muster up a resounding yes.

Lizzie sighs. "What's going on with you?" she asks. "You have been squirrely for the past two weeks. Did something else happen with she-who-must-not-be-named? I know you kissed her. Is this why you've been avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you," Josie says. It is a half-truth, really; she's avoiding Hope, and Lizzie is lumped in with her by default.

"Don't lie to me," Lizzie huffs. "You completely lied about being into Nia, didn't you? Is it because you're still hung up over Penelope Park? She's not worth the heartache."

Tell that to my heart, then, Josie thinks bitterly. Out loud she mutters, "Don't be mad about it, Lizzie."

"I'm not mad. Is that why you didn't tell me about swapping spit with Satan? Because you thought I'd be mad at you?" Lizzie's expression softens. "I'm worried about you, but I'd never be mad."

"It's not like it's a big deal," Josie says. "It's just that…" She almost comes clean right then and there, about everything that has been going on with Hope. But before she gets a chance to, Lizzie bulldozes on:

"You have to get over your evil ex. I wanted to have an intervention for you, but MG said it would be 'ill-advised' or whatever," Lizzie scoffs, complete with annoyed air quotes and everything. "It sucks that you're not actually into Nia. A good crush would've evened you out."

"You don't need to be preoccupied with my love life," Josie says, tucking her knees up to her chest as she inwardly sighs. "I'm doing just fine on my own."

"In what world is making out with Penelope Park proof that you're fine?" Lizzie frowns. "She broke your heart. Are you really going to let her keep doing this to you?"

"It's not like I asked for this!" Josie knows she sounds defensive, but it has to be said—she may be hurting, but she'd never let her feelings take control of her life. "Do you think I asked her to break my heart? Do you think I asked her to have this—this hold on me? You don't understand what I'm going through, Lizzie. You can't get all high and mighty about my feelings."

"I'm trying to keep you from making a mistake, Josie," Lizzie says, stunned, rearing back as though this burst of frustration is coming out of left field. "What is going on with you?"

Josie doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. How exactly can she say your tough love methods hurt me more than they should? How exactly can she be mad at Lizzie, knowing that she's hurt Lizzie so much without Lizzie even knowing? She can't. She can't come clean about Hope either—Lizzie will think she's an idiot, and then Lizzie will resent her too, and their supposed fresh start for junior year will completely fall apart.

So instead she blinks back her frustrated tears and mumbles, "Nothing is going on, okay."

Lizzie rolls her eyes. "You're shutting me out, Jo," she says. "We're supposed to tell each other everything."

"Not everything," Josie mumbles. It's not meant to be rude—more self-pitying than anything—but Lizzie's frown deepens.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. I—I have to go," Josie says, and she jumps to her feet. "Tell MG I'm sorry I left." She springs into action then, taking the steps two at a time to get away.

Lizzie calls after her to wait, obviously confused, but Josie doesn't pause for a second.

.

.

.

The sun is setting.

Josie has been walking aimlessly for the past hour with no destination in mind—the darkening sky is not a pretty sight like it ought to be, only a threat. It reminds Josie that she has nowhere to go.

She can't go home; Lizzie will be there soon. She debates taking an Uber to Mystic Falls Diner, but it's a Friday night; Hope might be there.

So she keeps walking, until the air gets chilly and she has to burrow her hands into her jacket pockets. Her hand bumps against something, and she curiously unfurls a slip of torn paper before she realizes it's the address to Jed's house.

It would be outlandishly stupid to consider it. It really, really would.

But when she pulls up the address she finds that it is a block away from where she's currently standing, and so she does worse than consider: she starts walking again. This time, with a destination in mind.

Josie doesn't even know that she's looking for something until she arrives at Jed's doorstep and sees Penelope Park surrounded by her usual gaggle of admirers. For a second she stands by the wall, unnoticed, to observe; there is no girl hanging off Penelope's arm tonight, but there are no shortage of takers. Sometimes Josie wonders what it would be like to have that kind of pull over people. Penelope makes it look so easy; she has never had to try to charm anyone. People flock to her naturally—they always have, even when she and Josie were dating. Josie had dealt with her fair share of jealousy, but she had never let on about it. Now she doubts Penelope even noticed (or even cared).

Music is thumping somewhere outside, loud enough that when Josie leans against the wall she feels the walls shake. Inside it's faint, a thrumming sound drowned out by the conversations being held, but still lingering. With the beat of a distant bass against her back and the chatter of high-pitched female voices and jubilant male shouts in her ears, she finally comes to her senses: this is a very bad idea.

Before she can make her quiet getaway (and pretend none of this ever happened), two guys racing each other throughout the house decide to make themselves known; they tumble into a heap right at her feet, spilling a keg's worth of beer everywhere. Most of it splatters across the very wall Josie is pressed up against, splashing her from head-to-toe.

So much for not being seen.

"Oh shit," one guy groans, half-dazed. "My bad, dude." This he directs to Josie in a slurred voice, blearily blinking up at her before rolling face-first into the spilled beer.

The other guy clutches at his stomach and wheezes, "Bro, anybody know how to check if a rib is broken?"

"Hey, dickheads! What the fuck are you doing?"

There isn't any moment to prepare—not even a second—before Penelope appears. Josie is all too aware of how she looks, drenched in beer like a drunken deer in headlights, while Penelope stands across from her without so much as a hair out of place.

But Josie is not who Penelope is looking at. She stares down the boys spread out on the floor instead—stares at them while a disgusted frown forms at the corners of her lips—a fuming glare that everyone knows means business. "Take your dumb bets outside, morons," she says. "Jed will literally kill you for this."

The guy with the possible broken rib pales. "We were just racing," he says weakly.

"Oh yeah? Well how about you watch where you're running?" Penelope scoffs. Finally she glances at Josie, and the way her contempt melts away leaves Josie uncomfortably fiddling with her wet shirt sleeve. "You okay, Josie?"

"Yeah," says Josie, almost too softly to be heard. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Jed's bathroom is two doors that way," Penelope says, gesturing vaguely down a hallway. "Come with me, I'll help you get cleaned up."

Josie immediately shakes her head. "No!" she says hastily. "I was just on my way out. I'll deal with all…this at home."

"Why are you leaving? You couldn't have been here long, I would've noticed you," Penelope says, forehead wrinkled in confusion. Her mascara is heavy tonight, but Josie can see the concern hidden beneath those dark lashes.

"I shouldn't have come," Josie says, plain and simple. "I really—" She laughs it off, or attempts to anyway. With a lame gesture towards the door, she takes a clumsy step in its direction; her shoes skid a bit against the wet floor, but she doesn't fall.

She doesn't fall because Penelope has reached out to steady her.

"But you did come," Penelope says. Her mouth is not smiling but her eyes are, and when she again suggests that Josie follow her to the bathroom Josie does not say no.

Jed is apparently a close enough friend of Penelope's that she can get away with stealing his clothes—Josie takes off her sweater, shirt, and jeans and trades them for Jed's sweatpants and a black T-shirt two sizes too big. Penelope waits outside the bathroom door the entire time, knocking once or twice to let Josie know she's still out there.

Josie stares at her pitiful reflection in the bathroom mirror and tearfully sighs once she's done changing. She ties the T-shirt so it's more fitted to her body, then cuffs the dark gray sweatpants to keep from tripping, all the while resisting the urge to cry. She hates every second of it, having to bag her beer-scented clothes in a plastic bag. She hates that she put herself in this situation. And more than anything, she hates that she still has to face Penelope.

"Josie? You okay in there?"

She'll have to face the music eventually, so Josie opens the door. "I'm done," she says, unnecessarily. "I look like I just rolled out of bed."

"Better than soaked through with Corona though, right?" Penelope steps inside, surveying Josie's new look with a small smile. "I think you look nice."

"Ha ha," Josie deadpans. "I bet you're loving this."

Penelope raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"The fact that I'm making a total fool of myself," Josie mutters. The ends of her hair are wet with beer still, and she forlornly combs her fingers through the tangled strands. "Everyone will think you're some kind of hero or something."

"Aren't I your hero in this situation?" It's a rhetorical question; Penelope does not wait for a reply. "Here. Your new outfit is missing one thing." She shrugs off her leather jacket and places it right on Josie's shoulders as if nothing—doesn't even move Josie's beer-soaked hair out of the way.

"This is your jacket," says Josie, dumbly. "I can't take it."

"It's only for tonight," Penelope says. "You'll be cold, getting home."

"So will you," Josie points out, but Penelope merely smiles a bit wider, a smile Josie recognizes as a fond one.

"I'm not the one who got a shower in beer slush," Penelope counters. "Just take it. You can give it to me tomorrow."

"Okay." Josie would argue more if she wasn't ready for this day to end. "I'll drop it off by your locker tomorrow morning."

Penelope props open the door, then peeks out as if gauging the atmosphere. "Whatever works," she says nonchalantly. "Do you need a ride home?"

"No, I'm calling an Uber," Josie says. "I should probably do that, so." She puts her hands through the sleeves of Penelope's jacket after a minute, caught up in the scent of smoke and perfume that comes with it.

"Right…" Penelope takes the first step out of the bathroom, but she stops before she gets too far; she whirls around and watches Josie follow. "Josie, why did you come here tonight?" she blurts out.

Josie breathes through her nose and admits, "I don't know."

Penelope crosses her arms, frowns quizzically. "You had to have a reason," she says.

"I didn't have a reason so much as I had…an epiphany," Josie says. She buries her hands in the jacket pockets to hide the fact that she's clenching them into fists. "I've realized I'm a shitty sister? And an even worse friend."

"What?" Penelope's frown sharpens. "No you're not."

"Actually, I am. Because I've been keeping a big secret from Hope and Lizzie," Josie sighs. "And instead of talking to them I'm standing here considering the idea of pretending we're back together so I don't have to tell them the truth."

"That doesn't make you a bad person. We all have secrets—it's natural," Penelope says. She runs her hands through her hair, casting an impatient glance towards the party as a few people erupt into drunken cheers. "It's okay that you don't want to pretend we're back together. I know how it must've sounded, when I suggested it."

"Then why did you suggest it at all?" Josie wraps her arms around herself and refrains from another sigh. "Why hypothetically put yourself through this for no reason?"

"I do everything for a reason." In the low lighting Penelope's eyes look dark; they shine heavily, no trace of self-satisfied smugness to be found when they fall on Josie again. "My offer still stands. If you let me, I'm here to help." There's another round of cheers, this time louder than last. "I should…probably go stop them before they break everything Jed owns."

"Are you co-hosting his party or something?" Josie has no reason to be jealous. She knows that. But convincing her heart of logistics has always been a losing battle.

"Or something," Penelope answers cryptically, an odd half-smile twisting at her lips. "You sure you can find your way home?"

"I'm sure." Josie takes the first step away from Penelope, back out into the real world; away from the secluded darkness of the hallway, the bustle of the party in the living room is a shock. "Um. Penelope? Can I ask you a question?"

Penelope pauses half a yard away. "Yeah, shoot," she says, barely audible over the chaos.

"If I said yes," and here, Josie has to pause to inhale, "what would that mean?"

The way Penelope regards Josie then is a slow, amused kind of way. "Is that a yes?"

"Well…what happens if I say no?" Josie watches as Penelope begins to close the distance between them one tentative step forward at a time, holding her breath without even realizing.

"Then I walk away," Penelope replies matter-of-factly. "It's no skin off my back, Jojo."

Josie swallows. "And what happens when I say yes?" The lack of the word if is a risky one, but Penelope—now about a foot away and every bit as patient as she's been all night—picks up on the hesitation right away.

"Then I do this," Penelope says softly, and she draws Josie in by the bottom of her jacket. She makes no further move, waiting for Josie to take the hint; Josie gives her a small, short nod without really considering the consequences of what is about to happen.

And then Penelope cups Josie's face in her hands, thumbs reverently over her cheeks. It is reminiscent of so many good times together that when Penelope kisses her so gently, so cautiously, Josie forgets that she is supposed to be hating Penelope Park.