She was so fucking cute. That was the problem. So fucking cute already and then she’d had the audacity to go and be a Nova fan too. It made sense- Debbi had mentioned that Nygaard was a comic book fan, though she’d suggested she was more into DC than Marvel. Still, the fact that Nygaard said Blue Blazes… Could have just been that she was incredibly wholesome and corny and didn’t like to swear because she was just that goddamned pure, but no, she had to go an have the best possible taste in Space Husbandos, and she had to giggle and smile and go wide-eyed when she talked about it. 

Nygaard… Nicole, her name was Nicole. Amy had called her by her real name for the first time, and in that moment it was like all the resentment and anger washed off Nicole’s face, drained from her body, and drifted out to sea. Her posture relaxed, and her smile widened, and she leaned forward and faced Amy. Their faces were so close together that Amy could almost imagine-

BAD! Bad, stop doing that! Stop stop stop it!!! She’s a girl. You literally gave her a pedicure this afternoon. You’re gonna help her be girly, since she clearly wants to, and that’s it. It’s like when you taught Debbi and Cass how to do their makeup. It’s no different from that. 

These were the thoughts that ran through Amy’s head as they all ate dinner together that night, just a casual night of pizza at an Italian place in the North End. She sat between her sisters, and across from Nicole as she held a slice of pizza in her hands. It was platonic, what Amy felt. After all, there was no way she felt THAT way about a girl. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, shouldn’t, what would people say, what would people think, they all already thought she was a whore, Amy already thought she was a whore, and it wouldn’t be right to drag some poor, innocent, adorable girl into whore-land with her. 

“So, do you have any other favorite comics?” Nicole asked Amy, a look of eager anticipation on her face. Friendly- that was how she looked. Friendly and open and genial. It was strange how quickly she’d gone from hostility to friendliness with Amy. But maybe that was just the kind of person she was- someone who forgave, and who gave people second chances; someone who genuinely wanted to see the best in everyone they met. 

Dozens of instances of people who seemed nice but weren’t echoed through Amy’s mind: of Sara Wilkins in fourth grade, her so called BFF whom Amy had trusted enough to bring over to her house to swim, who had laughed and started dropping all kinds of slurs the second she got a look at Amy’s family, who’d gotten everyone in their class to start calling Amy those slurs too; of Nora Petersen, a friend Amy had met at gymnastics camp when she was thirteen, who’d called her a nerd and a loser and an idiot when Amy had mentioned her very large comic book collection; of Morgan Henderson, the twin sister of Amy’s first boyfriend in eighth grade, who said she wanted to be friends with anyone who made her brother Tommy happy, who had decided Amy made Tommy too happy and told everyone, including Tommy, that Amy was kissing other boys behind his back; of Yvonne Cranston, the only other freshman who’d made varsity cheerleading alongside Amy, who said they were in it together only to tell the rest of the squad about Amy dating a lacrosse player two grades ahead of them so she could start slut-shaming Amy along with the upperclassmen; of Tanya Westlake, the cheer captain Amy’s freshman year, who decided to make Amy’s nickname Super-Tramp; of Cammy Wright, who’d made varsity Sophomore year and said she wanted to learn from Amy only to tell everyone about Amy sleeping with the captain of a rival school’s football team afer she’d caught them making out under the bleachers; of Serena… 

… No, no Amy didn’t want to think about Serena. Not now, not ever again. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Nicole asked her, those soft blue eyes sneaking past Amy’s defenses. “You kinda went away for a second there.”

Concern. That was all Amy could see on this girl’s face. 

Maybe… Maybe Nicole really was that nice. 

Maybe if Amy wanted Nicole to trust her, she had to start by trusting Nicole. 

Amy forced a weak smile and said, “I’m okay. And, uh, my other favorites are Daredevil, Fantastic Four, and Ms. Marvel.”

Nicole lit up, and a few seats down her little brother audibly groaned. “I LOVE Ms. Marvel- she’s the best.”

Amy gulped. Then her smile strengthened, and she said, “Oh yeah? Well, let me tell you about another fic I wrote a while back…” 

***

Amy must’ve been insane. What was she thinking, asking Nicole to move in with her? They’d only known each other a week, and they’d gotten off to a hideously ugly start, and this was weird. Amy was being weird, and stupid, stupid, stupid- how would this look?! Surely, Nicole would clue into the fact that Amy had feelings for-

STOP IT! She screamed internally. 

And then Nicole agreed. 

Amy wished she’d understood why. She hadn’t expected Nicole to say yes, but she had been hoping she would. That hope, that dancing spark of light in her soul, shined brighter than she’d ever thought possible when Nicole agreed. 

Amy poured them both a nightcap, and they sat on separate couches. Nicole wore her church dress, a long-skirted, high-necked blue number with a pink floral pattern. She looked so beautiful, so effortless, so… Feminine, in a way that Amy couldn’t describe. It was like she was seeing someone who saw the world in a similar way to her, but without all the shame and self-loathing Amy had about it. Or if she had it, she hid it better than Amy did. 

Either way… 

“Hey,” Nicole said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, anything,” Amy said. 

“D… Do you wanna be friends?” Nicole said. 

“I- I mean if we’re gonna live together we should probably-”

“No, no, I mean,” Nicole said, wringing her hands together. “Do you wanna just… Forget everything that happened a few days ago. Act like we’re just meeting for the first time, really getting to know each other?”

God, she wanted to say yes. But the guilt in her chest wouldn’t let her. “No,” Amy said. “I mean, I do want us to be friends, but… I don’t think I should forget what I did. And you shouldn’t forget it either. It happened, and we both have to live with it. God wouldn’t… I mean, I don’t think God would want us to pretend like nothing bad ever happened between us. It wouldn’t be…”

“Honest?” Nicole asked. 

“... Yeah. Is that okay?”

Nicole chewed her lower lip a moment, her lipstick staining her front teeth. “Yeah. That’s okay. That’s… Yeah. Friends.”

“Okay,” Amy nodded. 

She couldn’t let herself forget what she’d done. If she did… Then she’d never really be able to earn forgiveness. And if Nicole was as kind and genuine as she seemed, then… Then Amy wanted to earn that. She wanted to earn it again and again, every day, so Nicole could be happy. 

***

On an empty inland street, beneath the cloudy, cool night sky, Amy wrapped herself in shadows as she dove at the demonic moose, a quadrupedal, triple-headed beast with razor sharp antlers. It was the size of a semi-truck, and it thrashed its antlers and hooves about wildly, crushing cars and ramming buildings. Amy heard an antler pierce her veil of darkness, and she channeled Holy Light as she reached for the beast, trying to grab it by its myriad protrusions. 

She felt a soft, furry mass collide with her, and her darkness faded as she was head-butted off her broom by the moose. 

She landed in Nicole’s arms, atop her broom, back against her… Chest. 

That was certainly a chest. A very, very female chest Amy could feel pressing into her skin. She tried not to squeak as Nicole channeled a sphere of Pink Light around them as they charged the moose, and Amy reached out for the beast’s head with her Holy Light and exorcized it. 

When the light faded, all that remained were three ordinary, very grumpy moose, and they floated above them waiting for animal control to show up and herd the animals away. 

Amy still rested against Nicole, hoping her roommate wouldn’t see her tomato-red face, hoping her roommate didn’t feel her heart thundering through her. Their conversation earlier that day, while they’d both been stoned, when Amy had screwed up again… Through all the weed, Amy had noticed something, felt something, something that scared her, that she couldn’t deny. 

Attraction. 

At first it was academic, objective. Nicole was a beautiful woman, and Amy could appreciate that. But the more she appreciated it, the closer the two of them got both physically and emotionally… The harder it was to stop herself from saying something that terrified her. Of admitting something-

Amy shook her head. She didn’t like girls, she didn’t, she didn’t. She hadn’t also noticed a woman in her thirties jogging in a sports’ bra and short-shorts earlier that day and been taken aback by her body; she definitely hadn’t gotten jealous when Curtis secured a date with Nicole earlier that day; and she definitely didn’t feel anything other than disgust when they’d run into Winona earlier. 

She didn’t, didn’t, didn’t. 

“Hey, uh, you can put me down now if you want,” Amy whispered. 

“Oh,” Nicole said. She sounded almost… Disappointed. No, no, that was just Amy hearing what she definitely, totally didn’t want to hear in the slightest. 

Nicole lowered them to street-level, and Amy hopped off the broom. 

“That was really cool just now,” Nicole said. “What we did back there- we make a wicked great team!”

Amy gulped. “Yeah, we do.”

“Could I… Could I give you a hug?”

Amy blinked rapidly, then said, “Yeah, you can.”

Amy fell into Nicole’s embrace, and Amy swore she felt Nicole fall into her as well. 

***

“Do you mind if I shower first?” Nicole asked. 

They stood in their shared living room, both covered head-to-toe in demonic shark-blood. A whole host of land-sharks, grown to nearly full-sized, had attacked them while they were patrolling. The results had been… Messy, to say the least. 

“Yeah, sure,” Amy said, trying not to concentrate on the fact that Nicole still looked beautiful while covered in fish-guts. That had to be her imagination… But if it wasn’t, that would mean-

I DON’T LIKE GIRLS, I DON’T LIKE GIRLS, I DON’T- she thought as Nicole climbed into the shower. 

As a test, a totally normal test, totally the kind of thing a straight girl like her would do, Amy pulled up her phone and searched for a picture of a woman she’d always admired: Margot Robbie. 

The first thing that came up was a picture of her in a bathing suit. 

A now-familiar stirring went through Amy, and she turned off her phone and stared at the wall until it was her turn in the shower. 

When they were both clean, Amy noticed Nicole wearing an outfit she hadn’t seen before. And Amy, fearing the words tripping out of her mouth, asked if she could see the other outfits Nicole had picked up recently. Normal things for normal girls to do, nothing queer going on there, just two girly girls girling out about fashion. 

And then Amy saw Nicole’s red party dress, and she felt the truth banging on the side of her skull. She said the word hot, and she realized that on some level, she meant it. Nicole was… Nicole wasn’t just a sweetheart and a cinnamon roll: she was an absolute BABE, in the same way people had always told Amy she was. 

The world grew bigger in Amy’s eyes that night, even as she felt walls start to close in around her.