#moonpiper

***

The phone line cuts off, and Yasmine’s name disappears from the screen.

Moon curls into her pillow, erupting in ragged sobs. She can’t remember the last time she’s felt this helpless.

This entirely consumed by pure, raw emotion.

Her mind is a whirlpool, everything Yasmine spat at her twisting around and around and around. None of it seems real.

Because Moon can’t wrap around her head around meaning nothing to Yasmine. She can’t make sense of a world where she was only a pawn—someone for the repressed queen bee to “experiment” with. Someone to cater to Yasmine’s whims and fulfill her every desire and ask nothing in return.

Yasmine was everything to Moon. Moon was nothing to Yasmine. And how did that make any fucking sense?

Moon’s hands knot into the covers, a scream ripping from her throat. Somewhere amid the blinding torrent of heartbreak and rage, she finds herself tearing incense sticks from her drawers and lighting candles with shaking hands.

She always swore to herself she’d never touch the rear section of her spellbook, pages marked with a black tab. But if Yasmine can’t keep her promises, why should Moon?

Her chest burns as she recites the incantation.

“By flower of lemon and feather of shrike I bid you know what this pain is like”

*

“Maybe we could meet in the middle? Like a…sexual Venn diagram?”

Yasmine’s face twists in disgust. Moon only rolls her eyes.

She would tell Demetri to stop being a creep, but she knows he doesn’t mean it. Just playing the part he thinks he should after girls have started noticing him.

And Moon knows what it’s like to hide your authentic self to better fit a mold. She’s eternally thankful Piper taught her better.

“So what’s under the blanket?” she prompts.

As Demetri begins his demonstration, Yasmine’s expression shifts. “Not bad. My parents might not have to pay for an A this time.”

Moon can’t help feeling a bit surprised.

So Yasmine’s taking the “be a little nicer” advice to heart, at least. A hint of gratitude toward anyone is a first.

And then the soccer ball comes.

Her panic strips away her new cordiality. Moon knows exactly where her friend’s mind goes.

She’s about to be the “dumb blonde” again—the vapid, useless pretty girl who always has to bribe her way to a pass. And it makes her feel so disgustingly helpless.

“Do you have another one?” A last-ditch attempt to save her grade without her family’s intervention.

As she watches the altercation play out, Moon could slice the tension between Hawk and Demetri with a knife. She’s never quite fancied herself an empath, but there’s something hauntingly familiar about the way Demetri’s entire body is trembling.

She sees herself, hunched up and bawling her eyes out. She sees the overpowering grief that tore free a side Moon didn’t even know she had.

Thank the gods nothing came of that episode.

When Sam arrives, Moon gives her a pleading look. Off she goes to rescue their big-mouthed friend, prepared to cut into Hawk with all the steel Moon could never quite work up.

“Are we gonna fail?”

The whisper in Moon’s ear is so lost. So broken.

Yasmine’s always been a mess. Moon supposes she should be flattered she’s one of the only people who’s ever gotten to see it.

“No.” She sighs. “Demetri’s smart. He’ll figure something out.”

*

“You’ll never guess what I saw yesterday.”

Sam leans over at the start of history class, smirk dancing across her lips.

“What?”

“Yasmine and Demetri are a thing.”

Moon knits her brow, confused.

“What’re you talking about?”

Sam sniggers. “I turned a corner in the hall and saw them making out, clear as day.”

Despite her best efforts, she can’t hide her alarm.

“Oh my god. Does she know he’s…?”

Demetri’s passes at Yasmine weren’t exactly genuine. Moon always thought Yas would be more intuitive about that sort of thing, especially considering the way she talked about Demetri when he first started hanging out with them.

“He’s what?”

“Um…never mind.”

It wasn’t Moon’s place to divulge Demetri’s business, especially when he hadn’t even figured it out himself. Or…didn’t want to admit certain things to himself, at least.

“Yasmine was pissed when Miguel and I caught them,” Sam goes on. “It was so funny. She insisted she’d never go out with him, but…you know. Unless you slipped me some LSD at lunch and I’m hallucinating, I have my doubts.”

She laughs again, clearly tickled pink by the whole thing. Moon only frowns.

“I’m so confused. All she’s ever done is complain about him.”

Her friend shrugs. “Denial’s not just a river in Egypt, I guess.”

“No, like. She thinks basically every single one of his interests is annoying. And she told me once that listening to him talk is like when you hit your brakes too fast and your whole car screeches.”

“Well, you know Yas. She thinks she’ll combust if she says something nice about anyone.”

“Right, but…” Moon narrows her eyes. “She’s picky as hell when it comes to dating. I, um…I would know. And Demetri’s the furthest possible thing from her type.”

“Opposites attract?”

“Not like that. I saw him try to explain basic particle physics to her one time and she nearly went to sleep. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg.”

“Maybe it’s just a physical thing. We both know how crazy hormones can be, right?”

Moon hopes for Yasmine’s sake that Sam is right. Otherwise…

Well, there’s probably no need to entertain that possibility.

*

“I love it when you talk nerdy.”

Moon’s so caught up in Yasmine’s sweeping, graceful movements that it takes a moment for the statement to sink in.

She always smiles when she watches her best friend. She can’t help it. Yasmine moves like a mountain waterfall—majestic and larger than life, all while flowing so seamlessly.

It isn’t until Yasmine lets Demetri pull her in, giggling like an elementary schooler, that Moon’s smile falls.

No, you don’t.

Because Moon knows Yasmine, and she knows she has a hatred for “nerd shit” that could rival Hawk at his worst.

She despises anything that makes her feel small. Unimportant. Insignificant.

Moon remembers the look on Yasmine’s face when Sam leaned away from their popular table, exchanging easy chemistry banter with Aisha. She remembers the dejected pout when lunchroom conversations turned to AP homework, Sam and Demetri so engrossed in what Yasmine called “stupid school garbage” that they forgot the blonde girl was even there.

Because as much as Yasmine makes out like she couldn’t care less about anything, she doesn’t like to be reminded that she isn’t book smart. That the math and science that come naturally to Sam and Aisha and Demetri and even Hawk don’t make a lick of sense to her.

Sure, Demetri’s knowledge was useful when it got Yas a good grade. But on its own?

It only reminds her how inadequate she feels. How inadequate Moon knows she’s always felt.

And it was good, in a way, that Aisha tearing Yasmine’s popularity asunder showed her that the world didn’t revolve around her. But Moon senses the deep hurt Yasmine still carries, seeing glimpses of the worlds she’ll never know how to be part of.

So when Yasmine says she loves Demetri’s “nerdspeak,” lust and desire rolling off her in waves, it feels like she was the victim of some Freaky Friday body swap.

People change. Of course they do.

But not like this. Not enough to forget their very sense of self.

“Save me a seat at lunch? Specifically…this one?”

The smack of Yasmine’s hand hitting Demetri’s asscheek reverberates through the hall. Moon has to laugh at the sheer absurdity.

Yasmine hasn’t lost her fire in some ways, at least.

And Demetri doesn’t seem to mind. Perhaps Moon’s assumption was wrong.

She and Yasmine head off to class, her friend fawning nonstop over her geeky boyfriend. Moon smiles and nods along, pushing down the unease swimming in her chest.

Moon picks up a whiff of Yasmine’s perfume, and realizes that it’s lemonflower.

*

Dragging Yasmine away from Demetri at the prom is like trying to bathe a cat.

Moon finally gets her alone after a few songs, suggesting they grab some punch for Demetri and the others. Yasmine eagerly agrees, her entire being lighting up at the thought of doing her boyfriend even a miniscule favor.

There’s something unsettling in the way it’s so mind-bogglingly different from the Yasmine of a few months ago, who would rather chug drain cleaner Heather Chandler style than revolve her entire being around the needs of some boy.

Maybe there’s a way to breach the subject without arousing suspicion.

“I can’t believe you flew all the way back from Australia.” Moon forces a laugh as she ladles punch into Yasmine’s cup. “I didn’t know you were that into him.”

“Oh, Moon!” Yasmine giggles, leaning her head on Moon’s shoulder. “I’m in love.”

She tries not to think about how soft Yasmine’s hair feels against her skin.

“And the dress, too!” Moon reminds herself that Yasmine is very happily spoken for. “You really went all out. It’s kind of cute how you’re embracing nerddom for him.”

Odd, but cute. That’s what Moon has to tell herself.

“You think he liked it?” Yasmine leaned back, twirling around. “It’s not too much, right? I don’t want to seem like I’m trying too hard to impress him. I know guys aren’t into that kind of thing.”

Moon has to laugh again.

“Since when do you care what guys like?”

“Since I found one worth caring about, obviously.”

She sighs, a faraway look in her gray-green eyes. Perhaps she really is in love.

It’s just that Moon always imagined love would feel deeper than this.

“I’m sure Demetri loved it,” Moon concedes. “He’s really happy you came back for him. I can tell.”

“Funny, when I first showed up, he and Hawk were huddled off in some corner brooding, like the idiots couldn’t just dance with each other if they wanted. Almost felt bad taking Hawk’s boyfriend away.”

She snickers, and Moon feels strange.

She decides to change the subject.

“It’s crazy. I mean, imagine what you would’ve said a year ago if I told you you’d be smitten with Demetri Alexopoulos at junior prom. I remember when we first started talking again, you must’ve bitched for twenty minutes about that time he hit on you at your birthday party.”

Yasmine’s silent for a moment.

“He was being a creep.” There’s a steely edge to her voice that wasn’t there before. “He says he’s been watching me from across the lunchroom and I’m supposed to be flattered by that?! Like, dude, who even are you? Why are you talking to me?”

Moon raises her eyebrows.

“A couple weeks ago in science you were gushing about how sweet the ‘admirer from afar’ thing was.”

“Did I?”

Yasmine scowls in disgust. Just underneath it, Moon could swear she picks up a streak of panic.

“Yeah! He kept blowing you kisses across the room, and you giggled so loud that Mrs. Elmes yelled at you, remember?”

“Oh, god. That’s embarrassing.”

She says it like it’s some undignified moment caught on camera at a party—tripping and spilling her drink on someone, or the like. An odd way to talk about a behavior she has more often than not these days.

“He’s still such a weirdo.” Moon wonders if she’s imagining the trace of the Old Yasmine’s scorn. “He’s so, like, awkward about it when he puts his hands on me to dance. Like he’s scared my weird girl body is gonna burn him like a hot plate or something. I mean, we’ve been dating for four months!”

Moon’s stomach squirms.

“Probably just doesn’t want to do anything you might not be comfortable with,” she says quickly.

“He could freaking ask.” Yasmine curls her lip. “But I don’t even think it’s that. He’s an uncoordinated mess. He can’t dance for shit, and I have to do all the work.”

“Hey, don’t be mean!” Moon elbows her gently. “All this stuff is new to him. He never had a girlfriend before you.”

“Yeah. And it shows. Half the time I can’t even tell if he’s like…enjoying himself, you know?”

Yasmine grunts, reaching up and itching the side of her head. The strobe lights catch on something falling from her hair.

Her expression abruptly shifts.

“Oh, my poor baby!” she gasps. “We’ve been leaving him hanging over there, haven’t we? I miss him already. Come on, I’m gonna cry if we miss the slow dance.”

And just like that, the disdain is gone. Yasmine bustles off, snatching her punch and sweeping back onto the dance floor.

Moon looks down at the table, and her eyes land on a gray feather.

A tiny thing, from a tiny, fierce little bird. Beak hooked, meant for killing and piercing like a raptor. Loud, screaming, crass. Unrefined. Ready to jump to violence at the slightest provocation, especially when it gave them an excuse to show off.

Everything Yasmine isn’t.

And, ironically, everything Demetri wants.

Moon’s gaze drifts back and forth between the dance floor—where Yasmine and Demetri have resumed their grinding—and the corner where Hawk stands alone. Hawk’s eyes don’t leave his best friend once.

And, every once in a while, Demetri looks back. Yasmine is none the wiser.

Moon stiffens, guilt trickling over her like hot wax before a hair removal. She downs the rest of her punch in one gulp before going outside and calling an Uber.

I’m such a fucking bitch.

Whatever Demetri and Yasmine get up to at the afterparty, she doesn’t want to be around for it.

*

“So how are things with Demetri?”

Moon keeps her tone light as they finish their food court tacos, but she sees the new charm bracelet around Yasmine’s wrist. And she knows damn well what that means.

“He’s so annoying.” Yasmine wastes no time diving into a rant. “He never fucking listens. I try to talk about stuff I care about or that I think is interesting, and he’s always acting distracted or changing the subject or whatever. I was telling him this cool thing I read online about the history of georgette skirts, and he didn’t ask a single follow-up question. I’ll bet the world’s shittiest sponge is better at retaining crap than him.”

“Sheesh.” Moon makes a face. “I’m sorry. Boys are the worst sometimes.”

“And that’s not even all.” Apparently Yasmine wasn’t finished. “Not ten minutes later, he’s rambling on and on about this blaster thing he unlocked in some video game. It was the verbal equivalent of having cement poured directly into my brain. And he has the nerve to call me boring?!”

“He did?” Moon scowls, genuinely peeved. “That’s so rude!”

Perhaps Demetri wasn’t as sweet and thoughtful as he always came across.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Yasmine frowns right back. “So he gets all snippy with me because he’s being a soggy paper towel of a human being and obviously I’m zoning out. He starts quizzing me on all the dumb bullshit he was blathering about, and I finally snap and tell him he’s boring me out of my fucking mind. And then he gives this whole speech about how at least he’s spending his free time learning strategy and problem-solving and hand-eye coordination, and all I’m doing is looking at clothes online.”

They walk over to the trash and throw out their taco wrappers. With both hands free, Yasmine’s free to gesture more fully and furiously.

“Girl, I got so mad that I called him an antisocial freak and told him he was damn lucky I ever gave him a shot. That was probably kind of messed up, but whatever. Sam doesn’t cut him down to size enough, so I have to pick up the slack. Anyways, I was storming out of the restaurant, but he did the following-and-groveling thing. And sure enough, we ended up at Kay again.”

Yasmine looks down at her bracelet-clogged arm, a forlorn expression swimming over her pretty features.

“I don’t know why I keep letting this happen.” She sighs. “It’s like trying to plug up a boat leak with fucking office tape.”

“Why don’t you break up with him?”

“I wish I could!” Moon’s caught off-guard by the genuine despair lacing Yasmine’s words. “I’ve rehearsed the speech a billion times. But…every time I’m around him, it’s like I’m hit with some kind of emotional tidal wave. And suddenly I can’t bear the thought of ending things.”

She looks so lost. So frantic. So helpless.

“I see him and all I can think about is how much I want him,” she goes on. “No room for anything else. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it freaks me out.”

Once upon a time, Moon might have called that love. She knows better now.

She wants to reach across the table and take Yasmine’s hand. Reassure her that this is what overpowering teenage crushes are like. That of course your mind finds ways to make hormones and attraction centered around one person seem like the be-all end-all of everything. Hell, she remembers feeling that way about Hawk before she came down from the high and realized how incompatible they were.

But Moon doesn’t. She can’t.

“Something’s not right with me, Moon.” Yasmine’s voice is quiet and fragile—a tone Moon hasn’t heard for a long time. “Sometimes, I don’t—I don’t feel like myself. You remember that week you were in Cancun? I went to the mall with Sam and Demetri, and Sam was complimenting the lemon balm perfume I had on, but you know I never wear lemon-scented shit. Like what am I, a cleaning product?!”

Moon laughs, gladly taking Yasmine’s implicit offer to lighten the atmosphere.

That was one thing Moon always appreciated about her. She never passed up an opportunity to use snarky bluntness to make a joke out of something unpleasant.

It’s part of why her and Demetri’s connection hadn’t surprised Moon. At least not initially.

The strange thing was that their bond got as far as it did.

“At first I thought it was because something stuck to me when I walked through the perfume section of Macy’s,” Yasmine goes on. “But we all went through there, and I couldn’t smell any lemon shit on Sam and Demetri. Am I going crazy or what?”

Moon pushes away the sinking feeling in her chest.

“Maybe it’s Sam who’s imagining things.”

“That’s what I thought, too.” Yasmine’s voice grows terse with panic. “But then Demetri starts bragging about how I always wear the lemon perfume when I go out on dates with him. With the air of someone who, like, actually believes what they’re saying. And I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.”

“Like Demetri knows anything about perfumes. He probably got it mixed up with that bergamot one you like.”

Her reassurance doesn’t appear to work.

“Whatever,” Yasmine huffs. “Let’s talk about something else, yeah?”

Moon lets Demetri slip from the conversation, fading into mental oblivion as they leave the food court and head for H&M. Yasmine brightens almost immediately, losing herself gushing over cute pink dresses and fuzzy purple sweaters and champagne-tinted heels. The afternoon passes easily, sliding in and out of changing rooms and twirling and laughing in front of department store mirrors.

For a while, Moon can almost forget the overpowering fear emanating from her closest friend. She can almost forget feeling like the world’s cruelest sociopath.

*

When Moon knocks on the door to 44101 Portico Place for the first time in months, she’s only half expecting an answer.

It’s 5:00 on a Wednesday, so plenty of time for any after-school extracurriculars to finish up. But, of course, showing up anywhere unannounced always has the potential to go disastrously wrong.

Demetri helped her develop a healthy dose of pessimism. She isn’t sure whether to be grateful.

The door opens after only a couple minutes.

“Moonshine? What’s going on?”

Moon offers a strained smile. “Hey, Pipes.”

Piper frowns at her across the threshold, looking more concerned than angry. It makes Moon feel all the guiltier.

“Is everything okay?” Piper asks.

“Sorry to bother you. It’s—it’s about Yasmine. And you’re one of the only people I felt like I could ask.”

She winces at the flash of hurt in Piper’s face. Her ex leans on the doorframe, crossing her arms and cocking an eyebrow.

“Go on,” she says, tone resigned.

“So…” Moon takes a breath. “Remember when you said you couldn’t be with me until I figured my feelings for Yasmine out?”

“Yeah?”

“I…may have done some light spellcasting and accidentally hexed her into falling in love with a gay guy.”

Piper blinks a few times, taking a moment to process everything. Finally she groans, running a hand over her face.

“Jesus Christ, Moon. Come in—I’ll get us both some fucking edibles for this.”

Piper’s living room is exactly how Moon remembers it—cream-colored couches, tasteful wall décor, chic modern fireplace. A goofy, surfboard-shaped coffee table that Piper’s parents had once tried to sell at a yard sale, but little Piper screamed and cried and beat the ground with her fists until they relented to keeping her favorite piece of furniture.

Now, Moon props her sandaled feet up on a bar that runs underneath it. The metal is cold against her skin.

She tries to focus on that. Sensations in the here and now. Things immediate and tangible.

Not the abstract mess she’s caused.

Piper returns after a few minutes, placing a glass of carrot ginger lemonade and a small gummy on a coaster. Moon picks up the gummy, tentatively taking a nibble.

Piper chuckles. “Don’t worry, it’s not that many mils. I don’t want us to be totally baked.”

Moon takes a more generous bite.

“So.” Piper sits next to her and takes a sip of her own concoction—some kind of purplish whey smoothie. “What did you do?”

Moon gathers her thoughts, working through how best to phrase it.

“You remember when we first met?”

“Sure.” Piper smiles thinly. “Our parents dragged us to that dumb gala, and I found you sobbing your eyes out in the bathroom because your ex-best-friend threw you out like you were nothing. And then I went on to find you have a terrible habit of swooning over the world’s most horrendous shitbags.”

She lets out a small laugh. “I guess so, huh?”

Piper rolls her eyes. “I told you. Over and over and over.”

“I know, I know.” Moon sighs, wearily admitting defeat. “About a week before that party, Yasmine and I had a phone call. And she just…cut into me. Said so many awful things. And I get it. I mean, her sweet sixteen got ruined and then as like…icing on the cake, I ditched her for the people she hated. But I don’t think anyone’s ever broken me down like that before.”

Piper tosses a comforting arm around her shoulder. For a moment, they’re back on tile floors under harsh fluorescent lighting, puffing blunts and snickering about fake people.

“I know,” Piper says softly. “And when I found you, you were still pretty shaken from it. I hope I helped.”

Despite herself, Moon leans into her.

“You helped more than you know.”

“Clearly not enough to stop you from going out and doing some sort of supernatural fuckery.”

Moon laughs softly. “That’s the thing, though. I think it was already too late.”

“What do you mean?”

She takes a breath.

“That night, after Yasmine hung up on me…I don’t know. It felt like my whole life shattered. I guess in a moment of weakness, I pulled out my spellbook.”

Piper narrows her eyes. “You said you only ever used that thing to ‘cleanse the house of bad energy’ or whatever. Or give yourself good luck charms on tests. Not—”

“—cursing people, I know,” Moon finishes. “I was so upset that I wasn’t thinking straight. I recited this whole incantation that was supposed to make Yasmine know how it felt to want someone who would never want her back. And, um…I guess the love gods interpreted that as her getting down bad for a guy who doesn’t even like women.”

“Wait. Isn’t that the same guy who did an MTV-style roast of your weird ex that one time?”

Moon sighs wearily. “That’s Demetri all right.”

“I knew it.” Piper pounds her fist into the couch triumphantly. “Of course he’s gay. Straight dudes don’t pull that kind of petty shit.”

“He’s not exactly subtle, is he?”

“Nope.”

It’s Piper’s turn to sigh, eyeing Moon with an almost pitying look.

“Are you sure Yasmine doesn’t genuinely like him, and just has a shit gaydar? Or she’s really deep in denial? I know I’ve pined after my fair share of straight girls.”

Moon shakes her head. “I second-guessed myself for a long while. Thought maybe I was wrong about Demetri. Or maybe Yasmine had changed so much that she really is into the whole geek shtick now. But…”

She takes a long sip of her carrot ginger lemonade, hoping the intense flavor will somehow give her strength.

“She acts like an entirely different person whenever we’re with him. And…not really in a good ‘he makes her want to be better’ type of way. More like she’s forgotten everything she likes and every aspect of her being that isn’t related to her boyfriend.”

Piper stares at an abstract, avant-garde wall painting, deep in thought.

“Maybe she’s, like, stuck in a codependence loop,” she says. “You said she was pretty clingy with you freshman and sophomore year, right?”

“That was different, though. She acted one way alone with me and one way out in public, sure. But it made sense. Whenever we see Demetri, it’s like Yasmine’s being mind-controlled by one of those thirsty freshmen who think Demetri’s the hottest guy in school because he won a karate fight one time. Then as soon as I get Yas alone, she doesn’t seem to remember half of what she said or did. And when I fill her in, she gets super embarrassed. Not that Yas can’t put on a façade if she needs, but…why would she intentionally make an idiot of herself if she’s gonna be mortified an hour later? She’s not impulsive like that.”

Piper shrugs. “Hormones make people act stupid. I did some truly absurd shit the first time I was trying to get chicks to notice me.”

“Hormones don’t make you go into a weird trance that your brain bleaches right after. People only wish that happened.”

“Maybe Yasmine’s lucky enough to have a brain that can bleach on command,” says Piper cheekily. “Or maybe she’s way too proud to admit she’s being dumb over a boy, so she tries to like…will it out of existence through not acknowledging it.”

“It’s not just about the embarrassment, though.” Moon sucks in her breath. “Every time she realizes about the memory gaps, she’s scared. Like she knows something’s wrong with her.”

Piper groans, leaning back against the couch and sprawling her arms across a cushion. “Can we prove she’s not being a diva? Leave it to Yasmine to make a fucking ocean’s worth of fuss about the same teen angst literally everyone deals with.”

Moon winces at the scorn in Piper’s voice.

It really is a shitty move, asking her ex-girlfriend for help with a girl she knows Piper can’t stand. That Piper has a damn good reason to hate. Assuming the worst about Yasmine’s romance troubles is only fair.

But what other choice did Moon have? It’s not like her scientifically-minded friends, with their AP classes and their blocked chakras, would believe her about a magic spell gone awry.

“She starts smelling like the spell components whenever she’s near Demetri,” Moon says flatly. “And a couple of them came out of her hair. It’s not stuff she’d ever wear otherwise.”

Piper sits back up, suddenly fully alert with her arms crossed.

“You could have led with that.”

“I thought the weird, erratic behavior was more important!”

“As if I’d have a hard time believing that girl would have mood swings.” Piper’s grimace falters slightly as she rolls her eyes. “Like. Moonshine, that’s your type.”

“Shut up!”

Moon swats her. Piper chuckles briefly before her expression grows pained again.

She processes everything for a moment, groaning again and putting her face in her hand.

“Christ, girl,” she mumbles. “If this is real…yeah, that’s a pretty big fuckup. I’m not the biggest Yasmine fan, but yeesh.”

“I know.” Moon makes a face. “Trust me, I never meant to mess with her mind like that, but—”

“—you were hurting so much that you did anyway.”

“…more or less. I think, deep down, I didn’t believe anything would happen. It was to make me feel better in the moment.”

“Yeah, I know you.” Piper looks up, offering her a small smile. “I think you’d have an easier time permanently giving up smoothies than intentionally hurting someone.”

“I just feel so awful!” Moon wails, guilt bubbling up and erupting out of her like a volcano. “I know Yasmine hasn’t been the best person, but she should be able to at least choose who she loves. Even if that’s never going to be me.”

“So…did you come here so I could make you feel better?” Piper scrutinizes her. “Because I won’t lie—I’m kind of at a loss right now.”

“I don’t know.” Moon sighs again. “I came here because you’re the only person I trust who I figured would like…entertain this whole thing. Anyone else would call me crazy.”

Because at the end of the day, Piper may be rough-edged and butch and intimidating, but she’s open-minded. She’s willing to hear anyone’s point of view, and tries to embrace every walk of life. And she’s never one to dismiss possibilities outright, no matter how absurd they sound. No matter how “weird” the people saying them are.

It’s part of what initially drew the two of them together. Well…that and acai bowls.

“Right. So you want solutions.”

It’s almost embarrassing how fast Piper deduces it.

“That…that would be great.”

Piper takes a long sip of her health smoothie, slurps echoing around the room.

“Seems like a proximity thing. You said she acts more lucid when she’s away from Demetri, right?”

“Right.”

“So make plans to hang out, get her alone, and snap her out of it.”

Moon bites her lip. “I’m, uh…not sure how.”

“Demetri makes her act like she’s not herself, so…” Piper shrugs. “Remind her who she really is.”

Moon chuckles hollowly.

“That’s the other thing. I don’t entirely dislike the person she’s become thanks to the…Demetri thing. She’s a lot nicer, for one. And less judgmental.”

Piper seems to be holding back laughter.

“So…you want Yasmine to be her true self and get her free will back and all, but you’re worried that when she does…she’ll be someone you and everyone else will personally find less palatable?”

Moon glowers at her. “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad!”

A snicker finally worms its way out.

“Yeah, because it’s an incredibly shady thing to say.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Moon huffs. “Look, isn’t there some way to undo the spell without undoing her growth? Because like…in a weird way, I feel like she has grown as a person since she got magicked into being obsessed with Demetri. Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily, but you’re being awfully picky for someone who doesn’t even know if or how they can reverse their own paranormal fuck-up.”

“I thought you might know of a way to do some kind of partial reversal. Make her stop being crazy about Demetri, but keep some of the good ways she’s changed?”

“Sooooo.” Piper slurps more of her smoothie, expression growing insufferably smug. “Considering that fucking around with the nuance of this already-opaque-sounding spell is an objectively terrible idea…the way I see it, you have two options. You can break the spell and let Yasmine be whoever she wants, even if it’s someone who kind of sucks. Or you can leave her to be this weird enigmatic love curse’s braindead meat puppet for the rest of her days—with the perk that she’s more pleasant to be around. So what’s it gonna be, Moonshine?”

“But surely there’s some way to—”

“Uh-uh.” Piper cuts her off. “Look, I don’t know any more about this stuff than you do, but I doubt we’re talking about a spectrum here. Can’t have your cake and eat it too and all that. Either we lift the curse, or we don’t, so…what do you want to do?”

After a long moment, Moon sighs.

“I want Yasmine to be free.”

“So you need to do what I said. Remind her who she really is.”

“Even if…‘who she really is’ turns out to be mean and self-centered and kind of awful?”

“Eeyup. That’s Yasmine. Take her or leave her.”

“Even if it undoes all her personal growth from the last year?”

“That’s the conundrum, isn’t it?” Piper leans nonchalantly against the back of the couch, arm on the headboard. “We don’t know how much of that was the spell, and how much was the real Yasmine wanting to improve herself. So we gotta let the real Yasmine out and hope for the best, yeah?”

Moon looks down at her lap and smiles, shaking her head. “People won’t be too thrilled to have her back.”

“Then that’s going to be her problem, not yours. If you’re such a bitch that you need magic intervention to make you tolerable, then maybe you deserve to lose all your friends.”

It sounds harsh, but Moon can’t argue.

“Hey, c’mon.” Piper scoots over, playfully nudging Moon’s side. “I know how much you cared about her. That’s why it felt like your world was ending when she cut you off. And why you were still hung up on her while we were together. So there must’ve been something in there you thought was worth fighting for.”

And of course there was.

Because this was Yasmine. The same Yasmine who danced like a dork and smiled with dimples as soon as no one was watching. The same Yasmine who yanked Moon into every single one of her snapchat stories, no matter how mundane. The same Yasmine who didn’t think twice about defending Moon’s honor when she thought Sam was talking shit, and told Sam to get the hell out of Moon’s Benz.

The same Yasmine who talked about her and Moon as a single intertwined unit. Unfathomable to her as something that would ever split, until that fateful night on the beach. The same Yasmine who trusted that wherever one of them went, the other would follow.

Sure, there was plenty about her that was cruel and vindictive and conceited. And she’d spent her time at West Valley High so drunk on her own power that she kept digging herself a deeper and deeper grave, earning the hatred of most of her classmates. Good looks could only got you so far when you leaked poison and bile from every pore in your body.

But who is Moon to decide which traits Yasmine gets to keep, and which are magicked away? Who is Moon to remold Yasmine into a watered-down, docile amalgamation of what had once been her assets, when not so long ago, Moon fell in love with the entire picture?

And now Yasmine’s a hollowed-out shell of a person, all empty smiles and lifeless giggles. A painting cobbled together by some computer program—beautiful and polished and splendid on the surface, but a closer look reveals the details are all off.

A closer look reveals something without a soul, no light behind those sharp gray-green eyes.

“Fuck,” Moon says miserably, head sliding into her hands. “I want my best friend back.”

“So go get her back, then.” Piper nudges her again. “And maybe go easy on the evil curses this time? I don’t know, just a suggestion.”

“Oh, stop.” Moon scoffs, but there’s no real venom in it.

Piper rolls her eyes, although not unfondly.

“I wish I’d known you back then.” She laughs, shaking her head. “I could’ve told you from the jump that fucking with the occult was a bad idea. Yes, even when a girl breaks your heart. Which, in my opinion, is the highest and most profound type of pain.”

“Naturally.”

Moon sighs wearily, smile fading.

“I don’t know if anyone could’ve stopped me, honestly. When she—when she broke what we had, it was like I’d fallen into some rushing river and I could barely keep my head up. And I was headed right for one of those tall waterfalls with sharp rocks at the bottom from adventure movies. For whatever reason, lashing out felt like the only way to get a breath of air.”

Piper hums thoughtfully.

“I will say that this all makes me feel better about how I reacted the first time someone rejected me. I liked this girl Lila in the sixth grade, and when she found out, she called me a fat ugly dyke in front of all her friends. So I filled her locker with sweaty gym clothes.”

Moon wrinkles her nose as Piper cackles. “Ew, Pipes! You’re disgusting!”

“Okay, but I don’t summon Satan to make my crush want to fuck a gay guy senseless.”

“I did not summon Satan—”

“Sorry, Satan’s right-hand man Joe the Sexual Orientation Confuser.”

“Imagine if there were demons that actually did that.” The concept is admittedly intriguing. “They get sent up from the underworld or wherever solely to make cosmically cursed straights fall in love with cosmically cursed gays. And cosmically cursed gays fall in love with cosmically cursed straights.”

“Shit.” Piper grimaces again. “Wonder what I did to piss Joe off.”

“You’ve really liked that many straight girls?” Moon has to giggle.

“You have no idea,” Piper mumbles. “And trust me—your ex wasn’t the first guy to assume I played for the other team.”

“Not sure his heart was in that one. I think he wanted get a rise out of me, honestly. No offense.”

“Oh my god. The sheer irony.”

“He really thought I’d get jealous of my own girlfriend. As if there’s any girl I’d care about my unserious two-month fling hitting on.”

And then they’re both laughing, swaying on the couch and clutching at one another to keep from toppling over.

“Hi, I’m your run-of-the-mill punk poser and I think I get more ass than a proctologist!” Piper grabs the couch arm, attempting to do dramatic poses as she talks. “I know you’re frantic to have me back, even though my only skills are yelling and punching my friends for no reason!”

“Stoooop.” Despite herself, Moon only laughs harder. It’s probably just the edible finally kicking in. “You’re so rude!”

“Like your ex even knows how not to be an inappropriate, boundary-crossing weirdo.”

“He’s getting better!”

“Because he’s finally learning after his 7th attempt that asking a girl you just met to fondle your gelled-up hairdo isn’t going to wield results.”

“He wouldn’t—”

“He totally would, though!”

Moon snickers, shaking her head.

“Fine, yeah. He would.”

As the laughter dies down, Piper’s phone buzzes. She picks it up, frowning as she reads a text on her home screen.

“Hey, I gotta run soon. One of the kids from the dojo is hosting pizza night.”

“Oh, right. How’s that going?”

It’s amusing, really, how easy it is to forget Piper’s in Cobra Kai now. If the dojo’s truly the all-powerful, all-corrupting force Eli claims, then Moon’s ex-girlfriend must be entirely immune. Even if she and Piper haven’t spoken in a while, Moon hasn’t seen any evidence whatsoever of Piper caving to some kind of deeply-buried inner asshole.

Not that it was buried too deep, in Eli’s case.

“It’s fun. Good exercise during the gymnastics off-season.” Piper shrugs. “Some of the people in my class take it way too seriously, though. Like it’s high school karate, not the fucking Cuban missile crisis!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard.” Moon makes a face. “I was…kind of worried for you when I heard you joined. They treat it like a cult.”

“Oh, please.” Piper scoffs. “Like I’d ever buy into those sorts of stupid dramatics. I mean, don’t get me wrong—it can be fun to spar with people who’re so intense about it that they act like their fucking life is on the line. Makes things interesting. But I’m mostly there for the free shit.”

“Really?” Moon cocks an eyebrow. “You always seem so excited on your snapchats.”

“Yeah, like, it’s good energy. Everyone’s super passionate. But it gets to be a little much sometimes, you know? The senseis treat it like this huge life-or-death thing. Like sure, placing in a global tournament would be cool, but it’s not that big a deal? And sometimes I wonder how much my teammates are actually, like, enjoying themselves, and how much they’re stressing over nothing.” Piper purses her lips disdainfully. “Honestly? I’m going to rack up as much free equipment as I can, and then I’m gonna ditch them for Topanga or something. They seem way more chill.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Moon frowns. “I know they can go psycho when someone quits. Look what happened to Hawk.”

“Any of those bitches come at me with a razor and I’ll beat their ass into next week.” Piper rolls her eyes, unfazed.  “And what the hell are the senseis going to do? Call the cops on me for quitting their dojo? They’ll get laughed off the phone.”

“Just…be careful. I don’t want Cobra Kai hurting anyone else I care about.”

Before she can stop herself, she reaches out and squeezes Piper’s hand. The other girl turns and fixes her with a pale green gaze, expression unreadable.

“Okay,” she says quietly, tone turning serious.

Piper’s phone buzzes again, and the moment ends.

“Damn,” she mutters, glancing at her texts. “I forgot I said I’d bring jaeger bombs. I’d better get ready.”

“Oh, sorry.” Moon pulls away, embarrassed. “I don’t mean to take up too much of your time.”

“Don’t worry about it. I hope I could help.”

They stand up, and Piper starts to walk her out. Moon stares at the floor, suddenly feeling anxious again.

She stops right before they reach the front door. “What you said to do with Yasmine…what if it doesn’t work?”

“You better hope it does, because otherwise you’re going to have to consult the dark web or something. And then you’ll have to wade through about 70 sites with the most degenerate porn you’ve ever seen before finding anything useful.”

Moon laughs, tension easing.

“I guess I’ll deal with that when it happens. Or if.”

“Exactly. One thing at a time.”

“Well…I’ll let you go.” Moon offers Piper one last smile, opening the front door. “Have fun at your pizza party, okay?”

She’s halfway onto the porch when Piper catches her wrist, pulling her back.

“Hey, Moonshine…”

She turns. “Yeah?”

“I meant what I said before.” Piper bites her lip, meeting Moon’s eyes nervously. “About, um…if you sort through this whole Yasmine thing, and you ever decide you want to try again…all you have to do is ask.”

The surprise on Moon’s face must throw her for a loop.

“I mean, I’m not saying I’m going to sit on my ass waiting around,” she amends quickly, grip loosening. “I can’t promise I won’t move on. And I’m not, like, some piney mess who’s got nothing better to do than try and ‘win you back’ or whatever. But if you’re ever feeling it, and Yasmine’s not an issue anymore…just ask. The worst I’ll do is say no.”

And before Moon knows what she’s doing, she steps back inside and wraps Piper in a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she murmurs into the thick, bushy hair she remembers loving so much. “For helping. You didn’t have to, and I appreciate it.”

“I know.” Slowly but surely, Piper hugs her back. “But someone has to check you before you cause some domino effect that sends half the school into a sexuality crisis.”

***

Some author's notes, in no particular order:

I will literally die on the hill that Demetri is a bad boyfriend. All he's ever done IN CANON has been to objectify and generally be gross with Yasmine??? And the lead up to the whole icky "sexual venn diagram" comment was basically "hey, you should settle for me because I'm popular now and everyone thinks you're a laughingstock <3" Like wow! What a great way to treat the girl you're supposed to be "101% in love with"! And in S4 onwards he doesn't appear to know jack shit ABOUT her and just puts her on this pedestal as his "dream girl" while never actually mentioning anything about her personality.

I'm honestly not surprised that the natural progression of their relationship in S5 was (most likely) Yasmine getting fed up with Demetri not giving any visible shits about who she is as a person, and getting into fights with him the second she starts asserting her own wants and needs outside of him. And of course he gets her shallow jewelry gifts to placate her, which is just further proof he doesn't know her at all--it reads like he just saw on the internet that "girls like jewelry." And it's not like it actually solves anything, considering he's gotten her so many apology gifts that she can "barely lift her arm"! Tbh it pisses me off to not end that people whine and bitch about Demetri being a "bad friend" (which is so easily disproved it's not even funny) and don't make a peep about the gross way he treats his own fucking canon love interest. Please roast my trash son Demetri Alexopoulos for the RIGHT reasons!!!

I really did my damndest to keep Yasmine as canon-compliant as possible here. I do think she and Moon messed around in S1 and no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise, but I tried to keep everything we see of her here consistent with how she acts onscreen in seasons 1, 3, and 5. Season 4 is the obvious odd man out, which...needless to say is kinda the point XD But you take S4 out of the mix and accept some weird fluke was going on that was making her act that way, and we get something semi-plausible to work with! Hopefully she comes across as in-character (from what little we see of her!) here.

Also she does not love it when Demetri talks nerdy. Aisha and Sam's S1 salt conversation proves that she is not about it when people talk about nerdy school-related shit that reads like an inside joke she can't get in on (which applies to...most school-related things, considering she's shown to be kind of book dumb). She loves when Demetri gets her good grades, but she doesn't like. Have any inherent interest in school-related "nerdy" things??? And has never been shown to??? "Character development" shouldn't come out of nowhere and involve characters randomly getting into things they have never been shown to be drawn to actually!

I also hope I did an okay job writing Piper here! I wish I could write more MoonPiper, but we get!!! So ANNOYINGLY little of them and of Piper in general??? Like seriously, I went back and rewatched all the Piper scenes in the show, and there's like. Maybe 5 or 6 in THE WHOLE SHOW??? I barely have anything to work with and it is AGGRAVATING because I really love Piper and MoonPiper as a ship!!! And I want to do it justice that isn't just me projecting my own headcanons and theories because I don't know what else to do!!!

I really do think Piper is Not As Invested in Cobra Kai as everyone else though, lmao. Like she is there for shits and giggles, and also free merch. She respects herself too much to become a slave to the "cobra kai for life" bullshit lol

It IS incredibly funny to me that Moon gets more homoerotic scenes with her Super Totally Straight Best Friend than with the girl who was canonically her girlfriend. Like I love both ships, I really do, but when they give Yas and Moon SO many fruity scenes while their boyfriends are also being fruity, what did they EXPECT!!! Of COURSE I'm going to write YasMoon like my life depends on it!!!

Also, Moon saw that nacho nonsense with Hawk and Demetri in S2. She saw Hawk yank Demetri onstage during Valley Fest. She saw Hawk get all snippy about Demetri hitting on girls at the beach. She saw Hawk throw a hissy fit because his boyfriend bestie wouldn't join his evil dojo. She damn well knows they're gay!

And so does Piper ajadhskufbhd these girls weren't born yesterday!

***

“Thanks for coming out with me today.”

Yasmine watches Moon climb in the new Porche. Hair tied back, smile relaxed, patterned orange dress sweeping in a delicate cloud around tanned legs.

So much of her’s just the same. Impressive that a whole summer full of karate drama bullshit didn’t even bruise that carefree, easygoing spirit.

If anything, it strengthened. Perhaps out of spite, whether or not Moon was consciously aware of it.

Some parts have definitely shifted, though. There’s an iron resolve that’s grown under those thin shawls and short skirts. An extra coat of armor she’s sprouted, thanks to Hawk. Thanks to Yasmine.

Her stomach twists guiltily. It’s the kind of protection someone like Moon should never have to develop.

The world is a cruel place. Unfair, cutthroat, brutal to anyone who doesn’t fit the proper “mold.” Yasmine’s always known that.

She just never thought she’d be the one to teach it to Moon, with her friend’s wide-eyed naiveté and innocent hope that no one was that shitty a person—only misguided.

Yasmine knows she’s the exception to that rule.

“Are you okay?”

She blinks. Reclined in the passenger’s seat, Moon’s fixing her with the kind of concerned gaze she almost never deserves.

“Yeah.” It comes out sharper than she means. A habit she should probably work on. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You…were staring at me and idling the car. You’re kind of out of it. Should we stop for iced coffee?”

“Right.” Yasmine forces a smile. “Was just, ah…thinking about how I’m relieved we can hang out again. Don’t make fun of me for being a sappy bitch, but I missed you.”

Moon laughs—and oh god, she missed that too.

Not that she’ll ever admit it aloud, but it was horrendously stupid to think she could cut Moon off. To think she wouldn’t come crawling back, mesmerized like some idiot in a spy movie falling into the world’s most obvious honey trap.

Not that Moon would ever intentionally honeypot anyone. But she has a way of making you care too much, and not realizing it until it’s too late to save yourself.

“Same,” Moon says. “Actually really glad you’re not still mad at me.”

“Oh, no, I am. Incredibly lame of you to ditch me for a guy who looks like the main character of a budget Sonic the Hedgehog live action remake. But I guess I’ll let it slide this once.”

Moon bursts out snickering—the same way she always has when Yasmine’s bluntness catches her off-guard. There’s something comforting about the familiarity.

“Appreciated,” Moon says.

As they weave out of the hilly Encino neighborhood, Yasmine’s grip on the steering wheel loosens. She didn’t even realize she was squeezing.

“Although I’d be an idiot to turn down iced coffee,” she adds. “Maybe if we wait ‘til we get there, we can Instagram it.”

“Damn. If I knew you were in the mood, I would’ve made you some for the cooler.”

Yasmine winces.

It was a habit they’d fallen into their freshman year. Moon fiddled around with her parents’ coffee machine, using Yasmine as her guinea pig to test out various experimental lattes. Yasmine had tried just about every plant-based creamer under the sun now—and shockingly, even found a handful that didn’t taste like shit. It never failed to make her feel pampered and cared for, even if some of Moon’s combinations were a little…unconventional. (She’s pretty sure Moon spiked her oat milk hazelnut latte with hemp once.)

Something about Moon being so ready to pick the kind gesture back up—after everything—makes Yasmine feel like a horrible person all over again.

“It’s fine.” Her voice is tight. “My mom doesn’t give a shit if we get some food on the credit card. And those kinda covert promo posts get more likes, anyway.”

They turn onto the 405 entrance ramp, where 11 a.m. traffic is already moving as if the entire freeway is stuck in a swamp. Apparently they aren’t the only teenagers trying to get in one last beach trip before the school year.

Speaking of. Moon’s end-of-summer party is in a few days. Which Yasmine will have to miss because…reasons.

Or one reason, mainly. One sharp-eyed, curly-haired, leather-jacket-wearing, much-hotter-than-Yasmine reason.

Ugh.

Her concern isn’t her and Piper getting catty with each other—although she certainly wouldn’t rule it out. She’s much more worried about what’ll happen if she actually likes Piper.

Because Moon deserves someone kind and considerate who treats her well. And the past year or so, she’s had pretty shit luck with that.

And yet. Yasmine has a feeling Piper could be the best girlfriend to ever grace the planet, and the sight of her would still feel like a knife to the gut.

I’m sorry, I wish I could. Ros is having this influencer mixer thing in Big Bear and my parents will kill me if I don’t go.

She’s ironed out the excuse a thousand times, and it sounds plausible enough. Moon knows Yasmine’s parents are crazy, and obsessed with everything their precious Rosalie does.

Hopefully it’ll suffice to not further strain an already-frayed thread. A thread Yasmine’s trying to duct tape back together.

“It’s a shame Sam couldn’t make it,” Moon pipes up suddenly.

Yasmine freezes.

She’s not sure where she and Sam stand. If Yasmine had her way, they’d be done. She seriously doubts there wasn’t any truth to what Kyler told her and Moon.

Besides, Yasmine would bet good money Sam’ll throw her lot in with Aisha next year, now that Aisha’s everyone’s favorite fucking wedgie-giving bitch, apparently.

But Moon’s fond of Sam. Apparently, they rekindled their friendship while she was in France.

While Moon still didn’t know if she and Yasmine were going to patch things up. While she believed it was best to let Yasmine go and make things right with all the people her ex best friend hurt.

And Yasmine doesn’t think trying to get her way in the Sam matter will do much to help her hold onto the friend that, against all odds, she managed to get back.

“Yeah,” Yasmine lies. “A shame.”

“Guess she’s too busy with her new dojo boyfriend.”

Moon snickers again. Yasmine glances over, eyebrows raised.

“Her what now?”

“Didn’t you see her Instagram story? She and this guy she met through karate, they’re totally—wait.” Moon’s eyes widen as Yasmine frowns in confusion. “Did you unfollow her?!”

Yasmine’s eyes flick back to the road, chest turning in embarrassment. Before she can think of an excuse, Moon gasps in smug delight.

“Oh, you petty bitch.”

Yasmine huffs. “Look, her stupid ex-bestie embarrassed me in front of the entire school! Forgive me for thinking we weren’t really on following terms.”

Her friend only laughs, seemingly content not to rib any further. Another thing Yasmine’ll have to add to the list of neverending things she’s grateful to Moon for.

How annoying. She already owes Moon so much, and it’s only getting worse.

“Then I guess I’ll have to catch you up myself,” Moon says. “So when Sam started doing karate again, her dad was training this other guy, too. They hit it off, apparently. But she hasn’t told her dad they’re together yet because this kid’s also living with them because his home life is really bad so the LaRussos invited him to stay in their spare room so he could actually get regular meals—”

“Wait, wait.” Despite herself, Yasmine’s overcome with morbid curiosity. “Miyagi Do or whatever, right? Please tell me Sam’s new boytoy isn’t the same freakshow who tried to hit on me on my birthday. Donatello, or whatever the fuck you said his name was.”

Moon chuckles. “What, Demetri?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Yasmine makes a face. “The I-promise-I’m-not-a-stalker-I-just-watch-you-across-the-cafeteria guy. I’d honestly be shocked if he ever landed a girl.”

“Well, he does karate, too. Not like Miguel and Robby, though.” She lets out a dreamy sigh, gazing out the window. “I’ve gotta take you to the next AVT. So many hotties there.”

Yasmine might be sick.

“Right, yeah. Totally my dream to land some shrieking, possessive, testosterone-loaded freak who tattoos my name on him without me asking and then tries to use it to guilt me to stay with him after he beats people up over Yelp reviews. Husband material right there.”

Moon winces. Yasmine doesn’t hold back a smug grin.

The hopeful naiveté can be endearing, but Moon really should have known better than that one.

“They’re not all like that,” she mumbles.

“Come on.” Yasmine scoffs. “In what world would I want some gross, sweaty braindead maniac rubbing himself all over me and acting like I’m his pretty little bitch on a leash? Hard fucking pass.”

She’s thrown off by Moon’s dubious look.

“Didn’t you used to get Kyler to beat up anyone who got in your way?”

“Well, yeah, but that was different. It was a convenience thing—I didn’t get some disgusting girl hard-on because of it.”

The very thought makes her shudder. Boys are good for intimidation purposes, but their uses end there.

Yasmine shuffles her legs, stomach tightening. If…well, that was the rent she might have to eventually pay for guys like Kyler to do her bidding, then to hell with it—she’d do her dirty work herself.

***

“So Rosalie really got lost at the Cannes film festival.”

Moon’s body bends gracefully as she flaps the beach towel out behind her. The wind catches it perfectly, straightening it as she guides it to the ground.

Yasmine tracks her movements, insides aching. Gleaming, sun-kissed skin, perfectly curved body, silky chestnut hair…

She’s such a fucking tease. And from the way she’s deliberately taking her time squatting to put down the towel and stretching up again…

She damn well knows it.

Well, two can play at this game.

“Oh, yeah.” Yasmine sets their cooler down and strides over to her friend. “She knows some actor who was supposed to get us into this premier, but he got sidetracked schmoozing on the main walkway. Apparently Christopher Nolan was there, and—”

Moon begins to open their umbrella. Yasmine gently but firmly takes it away. “Here, let me.”

“Are you sure?” Moon looks worried. Cute. “It’s big, Yas. It’ll crush you.”

“Oh, please. I’m taller than you! Besides.” She fixes Moon with a conniving smirk. “You and Sam aren’t the only ones who get to feel up long, hard rods.”

As she slides her fingers across the umbrella handle, Moon giggles, scandalized. “I…didn’t know you liked that sort of thing.”

“See, umbrellas aren’t whiny, boring little shits who never shut up about how great their handle is, or cry when you tell them a different umbrella has a better handle.”

“Anyhow.” Yasmine slung the umbrella over one shoulder. “Ros’s actor friend vanishes, so she runs off to find him, right? In, y’know, that one slutty green gala gown she wears in all the party makeup tutorial livestreams. She got yanked into some side tent because they actually thought she was co-starring in the new JLo movie! Was like an hour before we found her.”

She saunters across the towel and plants the umbrella in the sand as she recounts the story. Moon’s eyes wander across her, as palpable a sensation as heat rays tracing her back in a tanning salon.

Yasmine smirks. Moon likes strong people? Girls in leather jackets and boys who dive into punching showdowns?

Hell, she can be strong, too. Just because she prefers others to do the work for her doesn’t mean she’s not capable.

She stands on her toes as she cranks the umbrella open, making a point to flex long, thin legs as she does it. She takes her time adjusting the thing, letting the sun catch a blinding gleam in her summery cyan manicure.

A breeze ruffles the skirt of Yasmine’s sundress, cool air brushing against her back legs. She makes no effort to stop this.

Maybe Moon will enjoy the view. Would do her some good to remember what she’s missing.

“You, um…you doing okay with that?”

Moon’s completely flustered. Yasmine’s so self-satisfied it could eat her up.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” she says airily. “Just a bit awkward. But if Kyler’s not gonna be around to lift shit for me, then I’m not about to wait around for someone else who will.”

“I mean, I could go bat my eyelashes at one of those surfer guys and get them to help us. Not like it would be hard.”

Yasmine shudders.

“What, and have to deal with him trying to menage-a-trois us all day? It’d cause more problems than it’d solve.”

She loosens her fingers—strategically enough that the umbrella tie toppling to the sand looks like an accident. As it hits the beach, she groans.

“Ugh. Damn thing.”

Yasmine slowly inches her feet apart, bending at the waist and making sure her…well, her back end is as noticeable as it will go without looking ridiculous.

Maybe it’s her imagination, but she swears Moon sucks in her breath.

Yasmine spends several seconds plodding through the sand, umbrella tie in full sight the entire time. When the search is convincing enough, she grabs the tie and quickly stands back up.

“Did you just use the Legally Blonde Bend-and-Snap on me?”

It’s Yasmine’s turn to blush.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. The thing where you pretend to drop something so you can lean down and get it and show off your ass. I know you’re not that openly slutty unless you want someone to see.”

Yasmine stares at the umbrella, face probably making her look like she ditched the sunscreen today. She’s not about to let Moon see.

“Oh, don’t be so enamored with yourself! Not everything is about you.”

Moon snickers. “Yeah, but that sure was.”

“Ugh. You can’t prove that.”

“I may as well be able to. Your aura’s all full of it.”

Yasmine fingers the hem of her dress, growing more and more flustered.

Moon didn’t used to be this cheeky. Or this…bold. Learning to stand up for herself sure gave the girl a self-made remodel.

And it’s driving Yasmine absolutely insane.

She wants to scream. Wail. Pull her hair. Beat her fists in the sand.

Anything to fight off the effect this New Moon is having on her.

But to hell with it. She hasn’t pulled her last ace yet.

“So are we ready to hit the waves or what?” She takes a deep breath, finally turning back to Moon and gesturing toward the lapping ocean. “It’s hot as shit out, and I didn’t come here just to tan.”

“Sure. But let me grab a drink first.”

As Moon reaches into the cooler, Yasmine starts to peel off her hot pink sundress. She makes a point not to rush, wanting to savor her friend’s reaction.

Oh, she’ll love this.

When Moon turns around, she nearly chokes on her Arizona iced tea.

“You didn’t.”

Yasmine smirks. “I did.”

The other girl shakes her head, mouth tightening. “You really just—ugh.”

“What?” Yasmine bats her lashes, feigning innocence. “It’s a perfectly good bathing suit! What’s the problem?”

Moon groans, yanking off her own sundress in one frustrated motion. “Well, one of us is going to have to change!”

And for a moment all Yasmine can do is stare, taking in the tie-dyed blue, black, and white bikini identical to the one she’s sporting. Matched not for some giggly best friends stunt, but out of a sort of mutual pettiness that still lingered from that fateful night by the bonfire.

The next moment, she’s howling with laughter.

“Oh, you catty bitch. And here I was thinking you didn’t have a mean bone left in your body.”

Moon crosses her arms, glaring. “It was my bathing suit to begin with,” she says, tone snippy. “You were the one who copied my style!”

“Yeah, because I thought it’d be cute if we matched. And you thought so, too, until you went drooling after Spikehair McRage Issues. And now I’m ripping you off? Convenient.”

Her smirk widens as Moon splutters incoherently, arriving at some kind of logical dead end.

“Come on now.” Yasmine pushes her bottom lip out in a fake pout. “All our drama’s water under the bridge, isn’t it? It can be a quirky bestie thing again, you know.”

She knows damn well Moon’s annoyance goes deeper than having her outfit plagiarized. And she also knows that playing dumb as Moon gets more and more quietly exasperated is one of the funniest things she’s ever seen.

Yasmine’s willing to let bygones be bygones. But the Old Yasmine—the one with her heart still torn out from the only person who mattered to her abandoning her at a moment’s notice—can’t resist a few jabs here and there.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know why I’m upset.”

Yasmine blinks, taken aback.

So Moon’s directly voicing gripes regularly now. That wasn’t just a one-time thing.

It’s a little intimidating.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” She keeps up the act, wondering how far she can get.

Moon takes a long swig of tea before speaking, as if to gather strength.

“When you posted those social media pics over the summer…you wore it as a dig at me, didn’t you?”

She opens her mouth, trying to think of a justification and coming up short.

“Not about to believe you ‘just felt like it’ or ‘just forgot.’” Moon snorts derisively. “I know blue tie-dye’s not your style. You only ever got one of those because I did, and you thought it’d be funny if we looked the same.”

Yasmine hesitates, a stone forming in her stomach.

Perhaps if Moon’s ditching her filter, then Yasmine doesn’t need one either. Perhaps brazenly voicing the unsaid with 0 reservations is their new normal.

Strange as that would be.

“I wanted to remind you what we were,” Yasmine admits quietly. “What we had, that you…decided you didn’t want anymore. And I guess also remind you that you could like…turn your back on me and do the ‘reform’ thing all you wanted, but that wouldn’t ever change the fact that you were my best friend. That there’s a lot about us that’s exactly the same, and you can’t pretend you didn’t go along with all the shitty stuff I did for a long-ass time.”

“But I stopped. I apologized to people. I tried to change.” Moon frowns. “Isn’t that what matters?”

“I’m not saying you’re not like…a way better person than me.” Yasmine smiles sadly. “I’ll admit that now. But you’re not some flawless saint. And you can’t just erase the person you were when you were with me.”

“I guess not. But I was never that happy when I felt like…like I was your obedient little pet or something.”

The words cut deeper than Yasmine expects.

“Is that—is that really how you think I saw you?”

Moon realizes she’s hit a nerve.

“I—I don’t know.” Some of the steel is gone from her voice, guilt poking through. “It felt like that sometimes. I know you cared about me, and you were working through a bunch of shit and couldn’t be super open about it. But you always made everything about you.”

And fuck—Yasmine can’t argue with that. She stares at the beach towel, shuffling her feet.

“And why did you wear it today?” Moon’s voice hardens. “To needle me again?”

Yasmine crosses her arms, finally looking up. “And why did you wear yours?”

Moon stops, caught at an impasse. Yasmine’s smirk returns.

“See? We’ve still got a thing or two in common.”

She saunters over, swaying her hips and shifting the tie-dye bikini back and forth.

“I knew there was some mean bitch left in you. Otherwise you’d never have agreed to hang out with me again, hmmmm?”

She smiles, and it’s every bit as smug and conniving as the mask Old Yasmine always hid behind. Moon inhales sharply, leaning back as Yasmine sweeps through more and more of her personal space. By the time her friend gets within inches of Moon’s face, she’s a tensed-up, flustered mess.

Interesting how her feet stay planted when it’d be easy to back up. Maybe that new assertiveness of hers is pressuring her to stand her ground. Or maybe…

“I think we’ve both been feeling a little petty about that whole mess on my birthday, haven’t we?” Yasmine murmurs the words against Moon’s lips, tantalizingly close. Their bodies are brushing now, electricity fizzing under Yasmine’s skin at every point of contact.

She’s burning to know if Moon will close the distance. Give into temptation and finish the job, like Yasmine knows she wants to.

Moon’s eyes start to shut, lips pursing. Yasmine’s smile widens, reaching out manicured cat claws and devouring the metaphorical canary.

In one quick motion she turns, sweeping one arm around Moon and using her other to pull out her phone and snap a selfie. Then she’s gone, stepping away to drop the photo on Instagram and type a caption.

“Twinsiessss!” she hums, reading it aloud. “Missed beach days with this girl. X x x x.”

Moon shakes her head, scoffing. You tease, her glare says.

Well. It’s only payback, isn’t it?

“We’re ridiculous,” she says, sighing. “This is one step away from those annoying ‘his’ and ‘hers’ t-shirts.”

The implication isn’t lost on Yasmine—and it’s all the proof she needs that Moon was one bad decision away from breaking Piper Elswith’s heart.

Is it wrong that she takes a fucked up sort of pride in it?

Shoving the quandary from her mind, Yasmine claps her hands. “Okay, enough of all that. Let’s go for a fucking swim.”

She crams her phone in their swim bag, haphazardly throwing a spare beach blanket over their belongings. Grabbing Moon’s wrist, she tugs them toward the sea.

It’s nice to hold her again. That tanned, lotioned-up skin never fails to feel perfect under Yasmine’s.

Moon laughs, expression coy. “Feels strange to be running around in our bikinis again. Brings back memories, doesn’t it?”

Yasmine’s face grows hot. It’s Moon’s turn to get her blushing, apparently.

“You remember the last time we did that?” Moon prompts. As though one rubbing around the sensitive spots of her memory wasn’t enough to trigger them.

“Oh, yeah.” She chuckles, and it’s a little bittersweet. “How could I forget?”

***

Random author's notes, in no particular order:

I realized that I put not one but two spy movie mentions in my recent YasMoon fics...so now I have a headcanon that her dad is super into James Bond and spy/thriller movies and that's how she's familiar with all the tropes! I like to think it's one of the few things they can still bond over and enjoy together, since I HC that Yasmine's relationship with her dad has gotten more and more strained over the years as she feels like she has to hide the fact she's a lesbian (and he's probably also out of the country a fair bit, if S4 is anything to go off of).

I actually find Yasmine and Sam's relationship so interesting??? Like Yasmine showed 0 guilt when she dropped her in S1 and readily sided with Kyler over her (in contrast to Moon, who looks guilty about cutting Sam off and seems upset by Kyler's public slut-shaming stunts). But then come S3, they're friends again??? I'm left to think they only really made nice because they both care about Moon and want to make her happy, because otherwise I don't think they'd have any reason to forgive each other. (Which kinda further proves my point about Yas being gay for Moon--"ugh I can't stand this shit-talking blowjob-giving bitch, but I'll be nice to her for you and you ONLY, babe!" Like Moon is really the only person who can keep Yasmine's bitchiness at all under control lmao. Even Demetri does a shit job of calling her out XD) And then by the time S5 rolls around, she and Sam seemed to have developed some genuine friendly affection for each other--which I think is kind of neat! The power of Moon's influence, amirite???

Yasmine's hapless lesbian ass really can't think of any better way of flirting than being like "oh nooooo!!! Kyaaaa!!! The wind went under my skirt!!! KYAAAA!!! I bent over to pick something up and you saw under my dress!!!" like a cringey anime girl. I would attest in a court of law that she is just THAT much of a disaster when it comes to openly and publicly flirting with girls. Like she hasn't the faintest idea what she's doing!!! She wants to get the point across but god forbid anyone notice she's gay!!! It needs to look accidental for plausible denial reasons, okay!!! Oh, the joys of writing a deeply closeted sapphic flailing her way through life <3

I just KNOW that Yasmine and Moon know Legally Blonde. Like how could they not??? The main character is a California valley girl XD Yasmine claims she watches it over and over because she loves Elle's aesthetic, but she secretly envies how smart Elle is and kind of wishes she could get a high-end kick-ass businessy job she could show up to in a bright pink suit. She also aspires to have a little purse dog, although she's partial to pomeranians and Japanese spitzes a little more than chihuahuas.

It's our lord's year 2023 and I am still saying the matching bikini bit from S2 was gay as fuck. Like Yasmine definitely knew what she was doing and she definitely wore that shit on purpose. And girl has enough basic fashion sense to not get an identical garment as her bestie unless she wants them to be matchy matchy. Y'know. Like a couples costume. Pretty damn fruity innit