Resistant

(Tuesday Afternoon, July 31st)

"So," Evie smiles at Lonnie, "What are you thinking?"

"Do any fireproof stuff even exist?" she questions.

Evie flips through her papers, "Uh, yes. I found a material used in firefighter's clothing, and it turns out some sheer fabrics used in curtains are also fire resistant."

"Resistant?" she points out.

"That would just be if you wanted a dress, obviously," she flips her hair. "Of course, sheer is not a clothing piece on its own."

"How about we start with sports bra and underwear?" she suggests.

"I admit the firefighter's material doesn't look very sweat absorbent," Evie unsurely says, "but one roll can probably get you a bra, underwear, a tank top, and pair of shorts."

"And how much would that be?"

"For that and the flame-retardant thread," she glances at the paper, "probably a hundred and thirty dollars." She sees her wide eyes and hurries, "But I had this idea for Velcro, so you can change the colors to as many as you want."

"I would just have to wash them every day," Lonnie frowns.

"But without fabric softener, soaking, and with detergent—not soap," she grins.

"You know how itchy clothes get without fabric softener?" she crosses her arms.

"I don't even know what fabric softener is," Evie's brows raise. "So, no. I don't see how that's a problem."

"Well," Lonnie gestures to her, "that's because all your clothes are leather."

"Speaking of leather," Evie steps towards her. "Would leather work, you think?"

"Yes," she answers. "It just smells like tar."

"Because, I know Mal gave you a jacket," she prompts, "and it would be such a shame if you ruined something so special."

Lonnie narrows her eyes, "What's your problem? What did I do?"

"You mean, other than consistently flirt with my best friend?" she rhetorically responds. "Hmm. I can't think of anything."

"Evie." She emphasizes, "Mal loves you."

"Funny how she never says it," Evie evenly expresses. "No. It's always about how incredibly hot you are. Why can't I be hot?"

"You know she's talking literally, right?" Lonnie points out.

"You know, she won't even hold me longer than five minutes?" Evie huffs. "She's just so worried she'll suck the rest of my heat right out of me."

Lonnie takes a deep breath, "I'm sorry I'm giving your girlfriend something you can't offer her."

Evie takes another step, "Say that again."

"You know," she suggests, "ten pounds would look really good on you."

Evie presses her hands against Lonnie's shoulder, but she doesn't budge. "She's mine. You don't get to have her." She tries pushing her again, and Lonnie's eyes glow.

"She isn't mine," Lonnie agrees. "I'm hers."

Evie's hands burn, and she lets go with gritted teeth, "I was hers first."

"What's going on in here?" Mal shouts, and they turn to her. "Who started this?"

"She did," Lonnie and Evie point at each other, and Mal watches them bicker as they retake their stance. Mal frowns, as Lonnie's voice raises, and Evie makes hers just as heard. Lonnie inches forward, and Evie straightens up.

Mal strides forward and pushes them apart, "Okay. What's going on here?"

"She thinks I'm trying to break you two up," Lonnie sternly eyes Evie.

Mal looks at Evie, "Eves?"

She places a hand to her hip, "Just because I'm thinner than you, doesn't mean you have to steal from me."

"It's a good thing I don't want to be a bag of bones, then," Lonnie counters.

"You're just jealous, because I got out and you didn't," Evie taunts. "You still have to live your sad, small life with your vindictive mother and impossible expectations."

"Evie," Mal warns.

"And you know what else?" Evie smiles. "My father is always with me, unlike yours."

"Holy Hell," Mal intakes a breath, and when the fire is released, they step further apart and face her. She gapes at Evie, "What's up with you?"

"I'm just saying what everyone is feeling," she calmly defends. "She wants to be with you. She knows it. I know it." She takes a step, "So, why pretend?"

"Feeling," Mal murmurs, before she rolls her eyes. "Lonnie. I need you to go to my room."

"What?" she exasperates.

"Your room?" Evie disbelieves.

"Now?" her eyebrows raise, and after Lonnie leaves, she turns back to Evie. She takes a deep, calming breath, "Okay." She takes a moment, "You know that I have a hard time being with just one person."

She frowns, "You could if you were with her."

Mal places a hand to Evie's cheek, "I want you."

Evie shakes her head, "I'm sorry. I really did want to help her for you."

"I know," she acknowledges. "It's not your fault."

"I was just so frustrated and," she sighs, "insecure."

"You were just feeling what she was feeling," Mal understands, "but if you ever have a problem, just talk to me. You don't have to be some perfect, quiet princess with me."

"It's not like I have a say in your love life," Evie diminishes.

"Of course, you have a say," Mal disagrees. "Maybe it's more for Lonnie, but it's just casual for me. Okay? You don't need to be jealous of my sex like—especially when I'm getting none." Evie giggles, and Mal reassures, "If Lonnie meant any more to me, I'd tell you."

Evie nods, "I know."

"Look." Mal thinks, "Lonnie clearly has some strong emotions. Maybe you should just let me talk to Lonnie for you or whatever, while you're trying to help her with this."

"That might be a good idea," Evie admits.

Mal moves a loose strand of Evie's hair behind an ear, "I'd love to stay and talk about this, but Lonnie's the one feeling frustrated and insecure."

"I really hated feeling like that," she contemplates. "It was like I had zero control."

"And that's probably how Lonnie feels all the time," Mal mutters.

"Have me later?" she inquires.

Mal smiles, "You can count on it."

When Mal enters her bedroom, she nods to the bed, "Sit down."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Lonnie insists before raising her hands. "She just—"

"I know." Mal moves forward and places her hands on Lonnie's arms. "But Evie is an empath. So, even though I'm not happy she didn't come to me about all that, I'm more concerned with your feelings right now."

"My life completely sucks," Lonnie starts. "What do you want me to say?"

She hesitates, "I need to know how much of that is based on me not being more than a friend to you."

"I wouldn't even know how to explain this to my parents," she dismisses. "My mom doesn't even know I'm here."

"Lonnie." Mal repeats, "I really need to know."

"You're the only one who understands," she sadly answers. "When I'm with you, it's like I'm not alone."

"I get that," Mal understands, "but if being with me without actually being with me is too much for you—"

"No," she insists. "Mal. Without you… I don't even know who I am anymore."

Mal moves over to the bed, and Lonnie sits next to her. "You know, when I first met Ben, I didn't even know what it meant to be good or want to be good." She folds her hands, "But I learned it's not about being good. It's about making your world better." before she faces her. "He showed me the person I'd like to be, but without his help, I don't know who I am or if there's any reason to be." She pauses, "I'm not the best at this, but what I do know is it's your actions that make you who you are, not some other person."

"And if my actions are just something I do to try to keep people happy?" she huffs.

"Lons," Mal sighs. "You're smart, you're brave, and you're beautiful. And you're not any of those things, because I say you are. You're those things, because you've made decisions that made you that kind of person."

"I'm this kind of person," she disproves, "because my parents limited my social life when my grades weren't perfect, they never helped me with things I was afraid of, and they couldn't help but remind me every day that first impressions are everything."

Mal takes a moment, "You didn't have to listen to them. You did it anyway."

"You assume I had a choice," she counters.

"Your mother doesn't have hypnotism," Mal mentions. "You're not in love with her. She widens her eyes, "You had more of a choice than me or Ben ever did." before eyeing over her. "I mean, look at you now. You're here. When my mother first found out I was spending time with Evie, she hypnotized me not to even speak to her."

"Being treated like a cadet rather than a daughter over half the time wasn't very fun either," Lonnie inputs. "I came home from school to find myself in a training session or some task posted to the fridge I had to figure out on my own. They'd do random bed checks at unpredictable times. It could be an hour after they told me to turn out the lights or it could be three hours before my alarm went off. If my room wasn't perfect—if I wasn't perfect—I'd have to clean everything until they thought I deserved that sleep."

"Okay," Mal's eyes widen. "At least my mom didn't do that."

"They said it was supposed to prepare me," Lonnie murmurs.

"For what?" she spats.

"I don't know," Lonnie stares at the far wall. "My parents don't like questions. They expect me to follow orders."