Chapter Text
“ ...and if the man and the woman love each other very much…”
Anne barely registers the buzzy audio coming from the CRT TV. Mr. Grady doesn’t pay much attention during instructional video days , but Anne still thinks it would be a bit brazen to drop her head onto her desk. Instead, she attempts to sleep with her chin in her palm, elbow propped up on the desk. Every minute or so she manages to drift off, only to jolt awake as she begins falling to her side.
“ ...and that’s why it is important to use protection. The most common tool for safe sex is a condom… ”
Anne dozes off again, except this time she leans too far before waking up. She snaps to, reaching back for her chair. But too late. She hits the floor hip-first with a soft thud. Snickering erupts beside her.
“Nice one Boonchuy.”
Anne glares up at Sasha, who smirks back. Frog, Anne can’t stand that smirk. She wants nothing more than to wipe it off her face. So she wets her finger in her mouth before lunging for Sasha’s ear.
She’s met with a sharp kick from behind. Anne and Sasha stop half-way through a silent wrestling match to stare at Marcy’s stern face. “You know we’re gonna be tested on this later, so please stop distracting me.”
“Oh I see… I guess you just can’t keep your eyes off us, huh Mar-mar?” Sasha’s smirk returns. If anything she’s emboldened herself with the shameless flirting. “Or maybe you’re just jealous that I’m paying so much attention to Anne?”
It’s difficult to see in the darkened room lit only by the TV screen, but Anne swears that Marcy is blushing as she buries her head into her notes.
“Stop picking on her!” Anne whispers, refreshing her attempt to jab Sasha’s ear.
“Aagh Anne, quit it! I was joking!”
“Quiet down, please.” The teacher doesn’t even raise his head from his magazine as he speaks.
Anne gets back in her seat, catching a giggling Marcy out of the corner of her eye.
“ ...If the man and the woman wish to make their partnership legally binding, they can apply for a marriage license… ”
“This video is so heteronormative.” Sasha manages to keep her whisper from carrying to the front of the class.
“Heteronormative? Where did you learn that word?”
“From Marcy.”
Anne looks back at Marcy, but she just shrugs before returning to her notes. Anne assumes it has something to do with the fact that this video predates cell phones.
“Ugh, just wake me up when it’s over.” Sasha drops her forehead to her desk.
“... Finally, those who wish to solidify their union for eternity can attempt to soulbond… ”
At that, the teacher stands up and turns off the TV. “The PTA doesn’t want us covering soulbonds, so that’s where we’ll end the unit. Test’s on Friday. Please use the rest of class to compare notes.” Mr. Grady returns to his desk, now scanning today’s newspaper.
The rest of the time passes with Anne and Sasha copying Marcy’s notes, having taken none themselves. Marcy is less than enthused by that. “You really need to take control of your education. I won’t always be around to do all the work for you.”
Sasha replies with sarcastic flattery. “Of course you will. Do you really think Anne and I will ever let go of our favorite tutor?”
Eventually the bell rings and the din of scraping chairs fills the room. Anne stands up, stretching her lanky arms to the ceiling and groaning from the release. Something about school chairs just saps all of the joy out of prolonged inactivity. She gives herself a moment to dream about her couch at home before Sasha takes her hand and drags her out of the classroom. Marcy is already waiting in the hallway, bouncing from foot to foot with mild irritation. “Let’s get going or we’ll be late for lunch. Today’s tater-tot casserole and I don’t want them to run out before we get there.” Anne remembers Marcy’s love for a certain bug appetizer in Newtopia, and she claims the tater-tot casserole is an excellent imitation. Anne grimaces at the thought that the cheap cafeteria food likely contains its fair share of bugs as well.
They quickly stop at each of their lockers to exchange notebooks before heading to the cafeteria. Marcy practically runs ahead to get in line for the lunch lady. Sasha follows at her leisure, ignoring the scowls of the few students she has to cut to stand by Marcy. Anne, having brought her own food, heads for their usual spot. Their table is tucked into a corner of the room, away from most of the other students. Marcy prefers being removed from the general commotion as much as possible, and Sasha likes being able to eat with her back to the wall, eyes frequently darting to any nearby movement. Anne knows that this behavior was drilled into her by Amphibia. It saddens her to realize that even after two years Sasha still hasn’t recovered from all of the trauma.
Anne passes several other groups of students on the way. She breathes in the earthy aroma of fried foods and steamed vegetables wafting from their plates. She would normally gag at the scent. Something about it just doesn’t smell right . But today, Anne is happy. She barely even notices the eerie silences that follow in her wake. And when she sits down, turning in her seat to scan the crowd, she’s only vaguely aware that everyone stopped staring at her half a second earlier.
Soon, her two friends emerge from the crowd and beeline for her, causing their own wave of social commotion.
Sasha lets out an exasperated sigh as she collapses onto the bench along the wall, opposite Anne. “You two are lucky you’re not in bio this semester. I’m getting like two hours of homework per night! And there’s the paper on that Mice book in English we’re supposed to write…”
“Of Mice and Men,” Marcy cuts in, sitting next to Sasha.
Sasha pretends she didn’t hear her. “ And we already have a test in health class. Why do we even have to take health? We already took it in 8th grade, and 7th grade.”
“To be fair, we missed most of 7th grade,” Anne adds.
Marcy flops her hand at the wrist in a dismissive gesture. “What I don’t get is how we can go through three different health curriculums without discussing soulbonding. Do the teachers really think we shouldn’t know about the only kind of magic that exists in our world?”
Anne looks contemplative. “I thought it was a myth, though. I mentioned it to Maddie in Wartwood once and she said she’d never heard of it.”
“I think it’s just a human thing… But it’s definitely not a myth.”
Sasha chimes in while attempting to spear a grape on her fork. “Are you sure? I don’t know anyone who’s soulbonded.”
Marcy’s brow furrows as she launches into an explanation. Before Amphibia, Anne would have zoned out during Marcy’s info-dumps. Now, she hangs on to every word. Even Sasha looks up from her food to give her full attention. “Soulbonding is very rare. For one thing, not everyone can do it. You have to be extremely compatible with your partner or else the magic won’t work. Even then, most people just choose not to. A soulbond is permanent. Like, really permanent,” she emphasizes with a low, purring inflection. “Nothing can break it, and it lasts even in death, binding the spirits together in whatever afterlife awaits us.” Then she pauses for a moment, contemplating. “I guess that kind of commitment can be intimidating. There’s a Greek tragedy about a man and a woman who soulbonded but grew to hate each other later in life. When they died they were tethered to each other in Hades by the bond, becoming each other’s eternal torment, ” As she says the last part, she raises her hands in front of her, wiggling her fingers outward in a spooky gesture.
Sasha frowns as she comments. “Sounds like a rotten deal. At least with marriage you can get a divorce if things don’t work out.”
Anne catches a hint of bitterness in her statement, but decides not to poke at it. Sasha’s been known to explode when asked about her parents’ divorce. Instead, Anne turns the attention to Marcy, asking, “How do they know the bond lasts after death? I mean, no one really knows what happens when you die…”
Marcy twirls the drawstring of her hoody around her finger. “Apparently you can feel the bond’s effect, like a gentle tugging on your heart towards your partner. Soulbonded people with deceased partners claim they can still feel that pull. They can just tell that they’ll be joined again in death.”
Sasha seems to be losing interest as she points out, “You know a lot about this for someone who’s never been taught it.”
“Yeah, well Google knows more than most health teachers.”
Anne and Sasha both snicker, and Marcy quickly joins them.
“So, do you know how to do it then?” Anne asks.
“Apparently all you have to do is lock hands and have both partners say ‘I bond myself to you.’ The magic can read your intentions and it does the rest.”
“That’s a lot easier than I expected. Magic in Amphibia always seemed super difficult to me. Remember that time you had to help Maddie make a potion to resurrect Fleafly?”
“OH MY FROG THAT WAS SO FUN! We had to collect like 50 different ingredients, prepare them the perfect way, AND add them in the right order with the right timing. Maddie told me all about how the Inverted Toadstool needed to be sliced into perfect hexagons in order for…”
Sasha, clearly having had enough, covers Marcy’s mouth with her hand. “Ok Marbles, we get it. But if you don’t stop ranting you’ll run out of time to eat your lunch.”
Marcy gives a shy smile. “Haha, yeah sorry.”
They’ve been much better about listening to Marcy since returning from Amphibia, but Marcy has also become more aware of her own tendency to dominate conversations. Anne always worries that Marcy’s new self-consciousness might kill her adorable enthusiasm. “Thanks for telling us Mar-mar. That was really interesting,” Anne says as she reaches across the table to hold her hand.
Blood rushes to Marcy’s cheeks. She rubs the back of her neck with her free hand, smiling sincerely. “No problem…”
Sasha breaks the tension by scooping a fork-full of casserole off Marcy’s plate. She eyes it for a second before taking a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “I don’t know what you’re always going on about, Marcy. This tastes nothing like the bugs I had in Amphibia.”
Marcy’s fluster dissipates as she replies with a disdainful up-turning of her chin. “That’s because the toads who fed you had no class.”
Anne bursts out laughing as Sasha begins to savagely tickle Marcy, shouting, “Say that again!”
When the last bell of the day rings, Anne practically runs out of the math classroom. She decides that being forced to spend the last two classes of the day without either of her best friends must be some kind of divine test from the Guardian. Or maybe divine torture for denying their original offer. When she rounds the corner of the Freshman hallway, Marcy spots her and runs to meet her embrace. Some of the other kids give them strange glances as they hug in the middle of the hallway, as if they had been separated for years rather than hours. Anne easily dismisses their judgments. Sure, she has a much more intimate relationship with her two best friends than any of the other students, but they haven’t gone through a bunch of life-or-death experiences together.
A blonde head of hair pushes through the crowd next to them. “Hey besties!” Sasha sings. She joins their hug with a warm smile, apparently indifferent to the additional side-glances she draws from the crowd.
When the three girls had first returned to school after Amphibia, the other kids were unsure what to make of them. They had disappeared for six months. Most people thought they were dead. And when they returned, covered in scars, they were… different. Anne and Marcy had always been outsiders of a sort, but Sasha used to be cool . She was casual friends with almost everyone in the school. She was a cheerleader. And she had dated nearly every boy on the basketball team, albeit briefly. Her long-standing friendship with Anne and Marcy was viewed as some kind of charity act, or maybe some sort of ruse to make herself look more popular by comparison. Her controlling nature certainly made the latter seem plausible. But when she got back from Amphibia, she had grown even closer to Anne and Marcy while becoming callous toward the rest of the school. As if she had siphoned all the warmth from her sociable disposition and redirected it toward her two best friends. And while Sasha was no longer the irritable asshole she was in those first few months after returning—largely thanks to Anne and Marcy’s constant reprimands—her reputation had suffered irreparably. In the eyes of everyone else, she was now just like Anne and Marcy. Strange. Mysterious. And damaged.
Sasha knows what the school thinks of her, but she doesn’t care. She tightens her grip on her friends, basking in a brief moment where they are the only people that exist. Or at least the only people that matter.
Someone bumps into them while trying to navigate the crowded hallway. The sudden movement nearly sends Marcy toppling over her own feet, pulling the other two with her. But Sasha catches her effortlessly. They all giggle together before Sasha asks, “How about we get out of here? You don’t have Chess Club today, do you Marce?”
“Nope! I’m allllll yours,” she chimes back.
They both turn toward Anne, eyebrows raised. She responds, “Sure, I’m free! But I can’t hangout for long. I have to be home in time for dinner.”
“Why don’t you just have us over for dinner?” Sasha asks dismissively, as if Anne is missing the obvious solution.
Marcy flicks Sasha between her eyebrows. “You can’t just invite yourself over for dinner, Sash.”
“Ow! I was just asking.”
Anne chuckles before saying, “It’s fine, Marce. I’m sure my parents would love to cook you dinner.”
“See Mar-mar? We’re basically family to the Boonchuys.”
“Except you two never have to put up with my mom’s lectures…” Anne adds.
Marcy looks somewhat sad as she comments, “I can’t imagine your mom being very strict. I’ve never even heard her shout at you.”
“She doesn’t shout, but that doesn’t mean she’s not scary. When she’s really mad she threatens to sign me up for Muay Thai again and make me her sparring partner. You wouldn’t look at my mom the same way after watching her take down a man twice her size.”
Marcy giggles at the thought, knowing Mrs. Boonchuy would never really harm her daughter. But Anne can tell there’s something eating at her. She knows all about Marcy’s relationship with her own parents. The last time they had a sleepover at Marcy’s house, she got so excited that she ran to her room without removing her muddy sneakers first. Mr. Wu was so furious that he sent Anne and Sasha home. The front door had barely closed behind them when they heard him shouting at the top of his lungs.
Still, Anne is caught off guard a bit when Marcy quietly responds, “I wish your parents could adopt me.”
Anne and Sasha both motion to comfort her, Anne wrapping her arm around her shoulders and Sasha gently grabbing her upper arm. Anne says, “Well we can pretend, at least for tonight.”
A small smile returns to Marcy’s face. She clutches the hem of her sweatshirt as she says, “I’d like that.”
Of course the Boonchuys said yes to having Sasha and Marcy over for dinner. After all, the girls lived in the Boonchuy residence for several months after Amphibia. It was an accommodation that the Wu’s agreed to upon realizing that being with Anne or Sasha was the only way to prevent Marcy’s hourly panic attacks. Sasha’s parents didn’t want to sacrifice their work to care for her, being satisfied by the doctor’s assurance that she would recover—at least physically. And so they also agreed to let her stay with the Boonchuys. Anne’s parents didn’t mind, despite the extra stress it caused. Marcy couldn’t walk on her own for the first two weeks. Anne and Sasha were weighed down with their own injuries, and so it fell onto Mr. and Mrs. Boonchuy to carry Marcy everywhere. Even to the bathroom. Which happened 20 or so times a day due to some lingering side effect of her possession. Two extra kids also meant making two extra plates at every meal. Two extra sets of medications to manage. And two extra batches of laundry to do, which involved removing numerous yellow and red stains caused by leaky bandages. And then there were the nightmares. Between the three girls, there was rarely a night when one of them didn’t wake up screaming. It was so routine that Mr. and Mrs. Boonchuy took turns wearing earplugs at night so one of them could get some sleep while the other calmed the girls down. But Anne never heard them complain.
As the three girls step inside Anne’s house, Mrs. Boonchuy welcomes each of them with an enthusiastic hug. Anne smiles despite her embarrassment. She knows that her mom thinks of Sasha and Marcy like her own daughters. It warms her heart for a moment, before a strange, repulsive feeling takes over. Not at her mom’s affections, she realizes, but at the idea of Sasha and Marcy being her sisters. Something about that label just doesn’t feel right.
Mrs. Boonchuy sends them off with a dismissing flick of her hands before returning to the kitchen. Anne leads them to her bedroom. “What should we do before dinner?”
“Let’s get our homework out of the way first.” Marcy suggests.
Sasha collapses on Anne’s bed in a sprawling heap, pulling a pillow over her face to block out the light. She lets out a low groan before saying, “High school’s gonna be the death of me.”
“I have it on good authority that you can’t be killed so easily,” Marcy quips back, pulling books out of her backpack.
“I have two hours of homework. I can literally defeat an army of Frobots faster than that.”
Anne says, “C’mon Sash, that’s a bit of an exaggeration.“
Sasha removes the pillow from her face and gives Anne a defiant stare, eyes squinting. “It takes me three seconds to dispatch one Frobot. If an army consists of 1000 Frobots, it will take me 3000 seconds to defeat them. That’s 50 minutes.”
“Oh my frog, did you just do math?”
Sasha merely groans again and rolls over, burying her face in the mattress.
Marcy giggles. “C’mon Sashy. It won’t be so bad if we work together.”
After much coaxing, Sasha finally agrees to join them among the pile of books on the floor.
Several hours pass, and they barely manage to finish their work by the time Mrs. Boonchuy calls them for dinner.
The five of them squeeze together around the small, circular dining table. Mr. Boonchuy serves a stir fry of chicken, cashews, and vegetables over rice. Mrs. Boonchuy pours the girls glasses of homemade Thai tea. Sasha digs in immediately. She’s always said the Boonchuys make the best food. Anne and Marcy thank them first before starting. Sasha swallows a bite before adding abashedly, “Yes, thank you very much.”
After a few minutes of eating, Mrs. Boonchuy addresses the girls. “Did you learn anything interesting in school today?”
Marcy smiles, warmth filling her cheeks. “Oh, yeah! Did you know tomatoes were originally from central america? They didn’t make it to Europe until the 1500s, so for most of history Italian cuisine had no tomatoes!”
Sasha whimpers. “ Please don’t bring up the Spaniard stuff again. We just finished the homework.”
Anne throws a baby tomato at Sasha, earning a reprimand from her mom. Marcy and Mr. Boonchuy laugh.
Anne side-eyes Sasha as she says, “Sorry mom, Sasha just hasn’t stopped complaining since we got here.”
Mrs. Boonchuy snaps back, “Be nice to your friends, Anne. Sasha’s a sweet girl. She’s not throwing her food like a macaque.” Anne rolls her eyes. Sasha has always been her mom’s favorite for some reason. Which is ironic considering how many times Anne has been lectured for situations that Sasha got her into. When she makes eye contact with Sasha, her friend hides her cocky grin quite poorly.
Mr. Boonchuy adopts a casual tone, attempting to keep the conversation cordial. “I think that’s very interesting Marcy. We use tomatoes in a lot of our dishes at the restaurant. Isn’t it incredible how European colonization in the Americas affected cuisine all the way in Thailand?”
Marcy’s face radiates happiness at the intellectual attention, launching into another rant about the spice trade. Anne zones out a bit. Usually she would make an effort to listen to Marcy, but it seems unnecessary when her father could be an olympic champion in geeky conversation. It reminds her of how much time he spent with Marcy during her recovery. He clearly appreciated having someone around who shared his interests, but for Marcy it was so much more than that. Before Amphibia, Marcy often felt alienated from her two friends because of her nerdiness. She had tried getting them to watch War of the Warlocks with her multiple times, but they always fell asleep before the ending. To have a parent figure fill that void—it means everything to Marcy. Especially since her relationship with her own father is so strained.
After several minutes, Marcy finally burns herself out. She lets out a relieved sigh, as if she had just finished an important speech. Satisfied with her exposition, she turns to her dinner.
Mrs. Boonchuy uses the opportunity to bring up a more serious topic. “So, how are you girls doing? ” Sasha and Marcy share a glance, knowing it’s them she wants to hear from.
Marcy speaks up first, casually. “I’m good. My scar doesn’t hurt so much these days. And I haven’t had a panic attack in a few months.”
Anne’s mom smiles widely. “That’s wonderful! And you, sweetie…” She turns to Sasha, laying a gentle hand on her wrist. “…How are the nightmares?”
Sasha blanches slightly, swallowing a mouthful of food. She stares at her wrist, seeming to draw strength from the sight of Mrs. Boonchuy’s hand. “They’re… better. My therapist says I’ve done a good job addressing everything.” Anne can’t help but smile at this confession. She knows a younger Sasha would have dodged the question and pretended everything was fine. She also notices the way Sasha relaxes at her mom’s touch. Physical affection is rare with Sasha’s parents.
Mrs. Boonchuy replies, “I’m glad to hear that. You girls had such a hard time with everything. For those first few months I was worried you’d never have a normal life again.” Sasha meets her stare and returns the smile.
The conversation takes a lighter turn after that. Sasha talks about how her cheerleading season finished up. Marcy discusses Vagabondia Chronicles with Mr. Boonchuy. Anne mentions how the school removed soulbonding from their curriculum. This drags a bemused reaction from her mom, who comments, “There’s no such thing as banning a subject. You kids will learn about it one way or another, might as well be in school.”
Once they’ve all finished eating, Sasha takes the lead to gather the dishes. Anne wonders if she’s still embarrassed about her unmannerly start to the meal. Marcy emphatically thanks the Boonchuys again. Anne’s dad replies, “It’s no trouble, especially with Sasha doing the dishes.” He gives Sasha a wink as she carries a tower of bowls into the kitchen.
The girls work together to clean up the dinner. They do so quickly, eager to enjoy the free time they bought with their diligent study session earlier. Mr. Boonchuy waves from the couch as they run back up the stairs to Anne’s room.
Once inside, the girls waste no time brainstorming ideas for how to spend the rest of the night. Most of them are shot down when Marcy reveals her curfew is in an hour.
“Can’t you ask your parents to sleepover?” Anne asks.
Marcy rolls her eyes. “There’s no way my dad would let me sleepover on a school night.”
Sasha offers, “What if you told him we’re working on a group project and we’ll need all night to finish?”
“You want me to lie to my dad?”
Anne chimes in, “It’s not really lying… We still have that English essay to write.”
“Yeah but it’s not due till next week.”
Sasha smirks. “You don’t need to tell him that.”
A mischievous smile spans Marcy’s face. “That’s true… And since I already finished mine I’ll have some evidence to show if he questions me later.”
Anne coughs. “How are you already done? We got that assignment yesterday!”
Marcy shrugs. “I like writing.” Then she leaves for the hallway, phone in hand.
Sasha stretches her arms widely, wrapping one around Anne’s shoulder. She rests her head lightly into the crook of her neck. Anne starts slightly at the intimate contact but doesn’t push her off. Sasha sighs before saying, “I hope Marcy can sleepover. I always sleep better with you two.”
“Are the nightmares worse when you’re alone?”
“Yeah. But the worst feeling is waking up and not knowing if you two are alright. It can take me a while to sort out what’s real and what’s from the dream. It helps to have you next to me when that happens.”
Anne leans her head against the top of Sasha’s, returning her affection. She recalls her own nightmares after Amphibia quite well. They frequently involved returning to Earth without Sasha or Marcy, only to realize that the Calamity Box was broken beyond repair. Waking next to her friends was the only way to convince herself that everything was alright.
After a few minutes of silence, the door swings open to reveal a giddy Marcy. “They said yes! They just made me promise to do double-chores on Saturday!”
Anne and Sasha both jump up, dancing wildly on the bed. Marcy runs to join them but trips at the last second, face planting into the mattress. The other two share a grin before pretending to trip, falling on top of Marcy. All three of them burst out laughing, wrapped in each other’s limbs. The moment their giggles subside, Sasha grabs a pillow and wacks Anne in the face. Anne holds her donut pillow up like a shield as Marcy tosses a blanket in Sasha’s face, buying herself time to lunge for another pillow. Laughter breaks out again as the pillow combat intensifies. They only stop when Marcy rolls too far backwards attempting to dodge a blow from Anne. She tumbles off the bed, onto a pile of blankets that had been discarded in the commotion. They all return to the bed, lying on their backs and breathing heavily.
Marcy looks over at Sasha. “Aren’t you gonna ask your parents to sleepover?”
Anne knows Sasha’s response before it’s given. “My parents don’t really care where I sleep as long as I make it to school on time.”
They return to their previous list of desired activities, now with an entire night to indulge them. They spend a few hours painting their nails, playing Mario Kart, and daring each other into increasingly pointless feats, culminating in Anne chugging an entire bottle of hot sauce. Now thoroughly exhausted by these shenanigans, the girls agree to settle down and watch a movie until they fall asleep. Marcy immediately suggests War of the Warlocks, like she always does. Sasha is quick to agree. Anne is pretty sure it’s been Sasha’s favorite movie since she first saw it in its entirety, although she refuses to admit it. Anne decides it’s as good a choice as any.
They change into pajamas, Sasha and Marcy borrowing spare clothes from Anne. She pulls the movie up on her laptop while the other two cuddle on the bed. When she returns to them, Sasha and Marcy separate to make space for Anne in the middle. They wrap a single big blanket around themselves before Anne presses play. Sasha’s head reclaims its previous position on Anne’s shoulder. Marcy leans forward, too excited to relax into the others.
By the time the final battle starts two hours later, Anne begins to feel a heavy drowsiness set in. Sasha is still leaning into her, eyes focused on the screen. Marcy has finally calmed down enough to sit back against the pillows, one arm wrapped around Anne, her hand playing with Sasha’s hair. Anne struggles to stay awake. Not from any fault of the movie, but from the comfortable way her body is supported on all sides. Sasha on her right, Marcy on her left, the pillows behind her, and gravity above, pushing them all together. But she forces her attention back to the movie. She knows how much this film means to Marcy, and she refuses to sleep through it ever again.
Mercifully, Anne only has to strain herself for twenty more minutes. The end credits roll to the bittersweet melody of the movie’s folksy theme. Marcy wipes a tear from her eye. Sasha makes a strange curling movement toward the wall. Anne knows she’s probably hiding her own tears. Marcy closes the laptop and sets it on the floor before slouching onto the bed. Anne and Sasha follow her lead.
Sasha lets out a long yawn. “We should do this more often.”
Anne barely stifles her own yawn before replying, “Maybe we should get ourselves injured again so you two can move back in.”
Marcy giggles but doesn’t respond. Instead she slides up against Anne, removing any space between them.
Sasha mimics the movement on the other side. “Let me know if you’re serious and I’ll swing a sword at you.”
Anne quips back, “In all of our fights, you never managed to cut me.”
Sasha touches the scar on her own face. She answers solemnly, “Thank frog.”
Anne is suddenly overcome by a desire to kiss Sasha’s scar. To tell her that everything’s ok now. That they’re ok now. The rational side of her brain compromises by kissing the top of Sasha’s head. “I was joking. We’re done fighting each other.”
“I know.” Sasha replies with a soft smile. “Goodnight, Anna-banna.”
“Goodnight Sash.”
Marcy props herself up on her elbow to see Sasha over Anne. “Awwww don’t I get a goodnight too?”
Sasha giggles tiredly. “Goodnight Marbles.”
“Goodnight Sashy.” Marcy drops her elbow to rest her head on Anne’s chest. “Goodnight Anne.”
Anne sighs at the contact. “Goodnight Marce.”
As they lie there, tucked next to each other, Anne thinks about their unspoken boundaries for affection. They are perfectly comfortable holding hands together, but not interlacing their fingers. An arm around the shoulder is fine, but not the waist. They will lay their heads on each other’s shoulders, but only carefully, lightly. She wonders at the peculiar subtlety of these rules, the ways they are so deliberate with each other’s space. Except, Anne realizes, when they sleep in the same bed. Marcy confidently wraps an arm around Anne’s stomach, putting more weight onto her chest. Sasha also drapes an arm over her, leaving a hand on Marcy’s shoulder, and burying her face in Anne’s brown curls. Marcy moves her free hand to Sasha’s waist, pulling them all together.
If Anne wasn’t already on the verge of passing out, she might have made a special note of her increased heart rate. But the warmth of her friends is too comfortable. She feels too safe in their arms. The outside world fades away, leaving only them.