#ajmichalka

"Oh," Janis says, looking surprised. "Thanks. I forgot about that."

"I figured," Regina says, "since, you know. I have it and you don't."

Internally, Regina cringes a little, but Janis just looks amused. She starts strumming the guitar again, and jerks her chin in the direction of a chair a few feet away. "You can leave it there. Thanks."

Regina slides the jacket over the back of the chair and lingers, a little awkwardly, not sure if she should leave now that she's accomplished her task.

"What are you playing?" Regina asks.

"Just some song Damian and I were writing for fun," Janis says, smiling a little. "Tentatively titled 'A Cautionary Tale.'"

"It's catchy," Regina offers.

"Thanks."

Regina remembers weekends in middle school spent in this garage, Janis's fingers clumsily feeling out chords on the guitar she had just been gifted for her birthday. Regina had always wanted to learn, but she didn't want to break her nails.

Today, Regina can't believe how silly some of her priorities were when she was younger. What else had her insecurities caused her to miss out on?

"Teach me how to play?" Regina asks, the words leaving her mouth before she can think too hard about them.

Janis's fingers still. "Really?"

"Um," Regina says, "yes?"

"Well... okay," Janis says, gesturing for Regina to sit, and then handing her the guitar. "I'll teach you a couple chords."

Regina settles her arms around the instrument, letting Janis move the fingers on her left hand on the right strings. She's so close Regina can hear her breathing, smell the same perfume that had lingered on the jacket, can see where Janis's eyeliner has smudged a little in the corner of her left eye.

"And then you..." Janis lifts Regina's right wrist, dragging her fingers across the strings. The guitar sings the opening strains of the song Janis had just been playing, and Regina tries to ignore how it feels like sparks are zipping up her arm from where Janis is touching her.

"There you go," Janis says, looking pleased, and Regina reflexively smiles back, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

"Stay tuned for my EP," Regina jokes, and when Janis laughs, it's the best sound she's heard in a long time.

Regina almost doesn't notice when the nail on her right middle finger breaks.

Janis stops in the bathroom after her studio art class and looks in the mirror to make sure she didn't accidentally smear any paint on her forehead or in her hair. She didn't, but there is a little bit on her neck, so she grabs a paper towel and starts to wet it when one of the stall door opens.

Regina steps out—or, rather, she nearly falls out, stumbling as she grunts in what sounds like pain and something clatters to the floor.

"Hey, uh," Janis says hesitantly, "you good?"

"Mmm," Regina says, which Janis thinks might be a yes, before she starts to crouch awkwardly, reaching for the lip gloss that had fallen out of her bag.

"I got it," Janis says, reaching down and then handing it to her. She watches for a moment as Regina slowly unscrews the top and starts to swipe the applicator across her lips. It gives Janis as weird sense of déjà vu—she's watched Regina do this so many times, and it's almost comforting to know that some things don't change.

Janis is suddenly overcome with something that feels like a mix of nostalgia and guilt.

"Um," Janis says, clearing her throat. "I know you, like, hate me or whatever, but I want you to know that I'm sorry. About... what me and Cady did. And about the bus."

Regina lowers her hands, just staring at herself in the mirror for a moment. "I wish I could hate you," she says quietly. "But I never could. Maybe that was the problem."

Janis frowns, confused, but before she can ask what Regina means by that, Regina turns to her.

Regina stares at her for a minute, saying nothing. It doesn't feel like every other time Regina has stared at her—like she was cataloguing every flaw, filing insults away for later. No, the way Regina is looking at her is almost... tender. Fond. It feels weirdly intimate for the second floor school bathroom.

Then Regina reaches up and cups Janis's cheek, and Janis feels everything in her body stop: her breathing, her circulation, her heartbeat. She feels frozen, but not like prey—she's anticipating something, but she has a gut feeling that it won't be bad.

Regina just pats her cheek once and heads for the door. "See you later, Jan," she calls.