Chapter Text
For as long as she can remember, New Year's has always been significant for Toni, for better or worse.
At nine years old, she’d spent New Year’s Day cleaning up her mom’s vomit and shaking her every few minutes to make sure she was still alive.
At age twelve, she’d spent the holiday in her bedroom, a room she shared with three other children. She’d been alone, though, left to her own devices while her foster parents took the other children—their children—to visit family.
At ages ten, fourteen, and sixteen, she'd welcomed in the new year with Martha and her family. They were the best ones, where Toni had felt a part of something real.
Toni had spent her nineteenth New Year's Day the same way she'd spent her ninth—caring for her mother.
Her twentieth, she'd spent again with the Blackburns, wrapped up in Martha's arms, sobbing until she had no tears left to cry.
It had been two weeks to the day since her mom's funeral.
She'd spent her next New Year's Eve on a twenty-four-hour drug binge, surrounded by people who meant nothing to her. She'd spent the following one in rehab, and—despite how far she'd come at times—she was back there the year after.
This year, at age twenty-three, Toni plans to spend the first day of the new year in the house she shares with Fatin. It’s Fatin's house, no matter how insistent her best friend is that the house is just as much hers. It’s Fatin’s name on the mortgage and Fatin who pays eighty percent of the bills.
Toni’s been here for almost a year now, arriving almost immediately after she last left rehab. She couldn't stay with Martha. She knows too many people in the area; too many sources of bad news. All it would take is a couple of texts and she could be high within the hour.
Fatin moved away back when they'd graduated high school, and after Toni's relapse, she insisted that she stay with her, promising both Toni and Martha she'd do everything possible to keep Toni clean. They’d all agreed it would be easier than Martha trying, considering that Toni had no ties to anybody else in Fatin's state.
Fatin has always kept her word.
She stayed almost entirely by Toni's side the first couple of months when she was most susceptible to relapsing. She made her get out of the house, paid for a therapist, and gave Toni a part-time job at her work. She even recently convinced Toni to enroll part-time at college for night classes. If Toni wakes up feeling just a little bit out of sorts, Fatin "works from home", which means buying fast food and watching tv with her all day.
After her first few weeks at Fatin's, Toni had asked her why she cared. Or rather, she'd asked her why she was pretending to care.
Fatin had looked right at her and said, "I'm not pretending. It's what friends do. And I know you, Toni, the real you."
Toni had asked her, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's easy to believe that the entire world is against you, especially when you've been through more shit than anyone our age should have to deal with." Fatin had put her hand on Toni's knee and told her, "You're worth more, Toni. You're worth so much fucking more than you believe right now. I know it, Martha knows it, and one day you will too."
After a few more weeks with Fatin, Toni started to believe that maybe she was right.
They see in the new year with a couple of beers and movies. Toni insists that she’ll be fine by herself, knowing that Fatin must have multiple invitations to more exciting gatherings, but Fatin promises she has no interest in doing anything other than spending the night with her best friend, and Toni believes her.
She wakes on New Year’s Day with a feeling she’s never experienced on this holiday before—that this year has the potential to be something good. She’s usually up first when Fatin’s not working, so she’s surprised to hear her friend shuffling around at eight in the morning.
Toni heads toward the noise and discovers Fatin tidying in the spare bedroom—alternatively known as Fatin’s makeshift walk-in closet. “New year, new you?” she jokes because Fatin tidying is a rare occurrence.
Fatin glances up at her and laughs, but Toni instantly senses an uneasiness about her.
“So,” Fatin starts, seriously, “do you remember Shelby Goodkind?”
Toni’s throat is suddenly dry. “Yeah?” she replies hesitantly.
Toni hasn’t heard the name for a long time, but no amount of drug abuse could ever lead to her forgetting Shelby Goodkind, even if she hasn't seen so much of a picture of her since shortly after high school.
There are a couple of reasons why Toni hasn’t forgotten Shelby Goodkind: the first simply being that Shelby Goodkind is not someone you forget about. But there’s a second, more personal reason, to do with another New Year's Eve—one that she's never told anybody about.
It happened when she was seventeen. Fatin's parents had been on vacation somewhere, as they often were, and Fatin had thrown a party, as she often did back then.
To Toni's surprise, Shelby Goodkind had been in attendance. Shelby was good friends with Fatin, and during their final two years of school, she'd also become good friends with Martha. So, Shelby being invited wasn't a surprise to Toni. Her attendance was, though, because Shelby never spent much time with them outside of school; she never spent much time with anyone out of school, as far as Toni had been aware.
It wasn't that Toni didn't like Shelby, though her closeness with Martha undeniably bothered her. It was more that she didn't know Shelby, and she never trusted that anybody else did either.
Shelby was always far too cheerful for Toni to take seriously. She was always happy, always top of every class, and always looked pristine, uncomfortably so. Toni had considered that the cross around Shelby's neck really did bring her as much comfort as she claimed, and she also considered that just because her own life was so shitty, it didn't mean that other kids didn't get lucky. But the thought never lasted too long; Toni knew that teenage girls just weren't supposed to be that happy.
Shelby never really let her overly cheerful façade slip, but a couple of things made Toni doubt her. One was that despite how happy Shelby claimed to be with her boyfriend, Toni always noticed how tense her body language was whenever he put his arm around her waist or kissed her. The second was that Toni had heard a rumor Shelby's dad was really strict. Someone had mentioned that Shelby secretly hated the pageant scene and that her dad forced her to continue with it regardless. Apparently, he monitored her entire life, from her phone use, to what she ate and who she spent her time with.
Toni was never sure how much of that was true and assumed it was exaggerated like all high school rumors tend to be. Although, she rarely saw Shelby eat or drink anything besides salad and water.
Whatever the truth was, Shelby never let her mask slip far enough for anyone to call her out on it, not even Toni, who had to admit she spent a little too much time during her final years of high school preoccupied with trying to work Shelby out.
The New Year's Eve at Fatin's house back then had been rough for Toni. Just before Christmas, she'd broken up with her girlfriend, Regan, and the wound was still fresh. Her mom was out of rehab and had been getting worse again, so Toni spent most of the night glaring in disgust at happy couples.
Unable to face pretending to be happy for the countdown to midnight and not wanting to be anywhere near anybody who had somebody to kiss, she’d taken herself up to Fatin's bedroom.
She'd been sitting on Fatin's bed, trying to think of anything besides how her mom might have been spending the night, when Shelby Goodkind entered the room.
Toni had subconsciously stood up straight and ironed her shirt with her hand like she was in the presence of royalty. She'd never really been alone with Shelby, and there was something unnerving about it that Toni couldn't quite place.
"Sorry, I didn't know anybody was in here," Shelby said, closing the door behind her instead of leaving like Toni expected her to.
"I just needed some air," Toni said, then realized how stupid that was, considering they were inside.
Shelby had smiled and agreed, and then Toni had asked her why she wasn't spending the night with Andrew.
"We broke up," Shelby told her matter-of-factly. "He was cheating on me."
"Oh, right. Sorry," Toni replied, not because she was, but because it was what you were supposed to say.
"It's fine," Shelby shrugged, and it was apparent just how little she cared about the breakdown of her relationship. "No Regan?"
Toni shook her head.
"I heard that maybe you guys had broken up," Shelby admitted, then added, "her loss."
Toni had just shrugged, thinking that Shelby was being friendly because she was desperate to be liked by everyone. She'd always had her suspicions that Shelby was grossed out by the whole lesbian thing, which only added to her distrust.
They'd stood there awkwardly, the noise of their classmates downstairs counting down from ten audible from Fatin's bedroom.
"Well, Happy New Year's," Shelby mumbled when they heard cheering, and before Toni could stutter an equally awkward reply, Shelby was approaching her with open arms.
Toni had frozen at the embrace, positively convinced that Shelby was the strangest person she had ever met. They weren't close enough to be hugging, nowhere near it. But then Shelby just kept hugging her, and soon all Toni could think about was how good she smelled.
When Shelby pulled back, Toni suddenly missed the warmth of her body.
Toni expected her to leave, but Shelby just stayed there, her face a few inches away from her own.
Toni had always known that Shelby was beautiful, but being so close to her, being watched by Shelby's big green eyes, made her forget how to breathe.
Then, Shelby kissed her.
She kissed her so softly that Toni hadn't even been sure their lips had touched. But when Shelby pulled back, Toni could taste her cherry-flavored lip gloss.
"Sorry," Shelby whispered, but her eyes flickered back to Toni's lips.
Toni swallowed hard. "Don't be," she whispered, and then Shelby kissed her again, properly this time.
If Shelby had been drinking that New Year’s, Toni couldn't taste anything but the mixer in her kiss. She wrapped her arm around Shelby's waist and felt her knees shake as their tongues brushed, thinking she might have collapsed completely if it wasn't for Shelby's firm grip on her neck.
Shelby pulled away too quickly, though if she'd kissed her until morning, it still would have been over too soon for Toni.
"I should—" Shelby muttered, taking a step back.
She never finished her sentence.
"Yeah," Toni replied, too shocked to say anything more.
Then Shelby walked away, leaving Toni standing there, licking her lips to taste more of Shelby's lip gloss.
When Toni had made her way downstairs a few minutes later, Shelby had already left the party.
Toni had thought about reaching out to Shelby after that night and considered texting her and asking if she wanted to talk about what happened. But over the next few days, things with her mom had quickly spiraled again, and when they’d returned to school, something had always held her back.
Maybe it was the fear of rejection or how consumed she was with worrying about her mom and just trying to stay out of trouble in school. Whatever the reason, Toni never instigated a conversation about that night, and neither did Shelby.
Nothing changed between them, except that Toni sometimes felt the blonde's eyes lingering on her when she joined her group for lunch.
They'd graduated later that year, and that had been that.
Toni has never said a word to anybody, not even Martha or Fatin, not even all these years later.
She doesn’t know why not.
Even when she heard a couple of years after graduation that Shelby had dropped out of college and was living with a woman, she never mentioned it to anyone.
They'd never said it explicitly, but Toni had felt like when she'd looked into Shelby's eyes that night when they were seventeen, a pact was made. They'd both acknowledged with just a look that it would be their secret, something just for them.
And now, as Fatin routes through shoeboxes, Toni tries not to think too much about why that still means something to her all these years later.
"She's on her way here," Fatin says, pulling Toni from her memories.
"What, like, for the night, or?"
"More like indefinitely." Fatin stops what she’s doing and turns to face Toni, asking, "Have you ever heard anything about Shelby since we left school?"
"Not really," Toni replies, attempting to sound casual. She's searched for Shelby on social media more frequently than she'd like to admit over the years, though she's never found any traces of her. "I heard she'd left college and was out and living with a woman a few years ago, but nothing really since then," she says.
She doesn’t think Martha has heard from Shelby either, and she’s surprised not to have known that Fatin has stayed in touch with her.
"Yeah, me neither until around a year and a half ago," Fatin says, then clears her throat. "She called me from a domestic violence shelter."
Toni’s stomach drops.
"She was going to come and stay with me then, but she never did. She went back to her girlfriend instead. She called me later that week and told me that she was sorry, that she'd made a mistake. Then the next day, her phone was out of service." Fatin looks like she might cry, and Toni never realized that she and Shelby were ever so close. "I tried to find a way to contact her, but I was too scared it would put her at risk. In the end, I settled for checking Texas news outlets almost daily to make sure nothing had happened to her."
"Why did she call you?" Toni asks after a long pause because, while it was the last question she wants to ask, she thinks it might be the only one to which the answer won’t break her heart.
"Shelby and I were really good friends at school," Fatin says. “We were closer than people knew. She confided in me a lot”—she smiles fondly—"I think I knew things about her before she knew them herself."
Toni frowns. "But surely she has people in her life that she's actually spoken to in the past five years."
Fatin throws her an awkward smile. "I think it's been bad, Toni,” she says, smile quickly dropping. “I think it’s been really fucking bad. I don't think she's had any support; I don't think she's been allowed to."
"Oh," Toni mumbles, feeling her stomach sink further and struggling to work out how to feel about all of the things Fatin is telling her. "When will she get here?"
"Tonight, unless she needs to stop off at a motel. She already drove twelve hours yesterday."
"She's driving from Texas," Toni says aloud as she realizes, "to San Francisco."
Fatin nods, and Toni begins to understand that Shelby has probably been in an even worse situation than the one she’s been imagining, that she’s not been able to plan anything; she’s just had to escape.
"So you'll be sleeping in here until we get this room sorted properly," Fatin says, nodding in the direction of the single bed that’s covered in her clothes.
"Huh?" Toni mumbles. She figures Shelby deserves the bigger room with a double bed after whatever she's been through, but that room is her space, decorated by her with all of her things. She feels panicky, pushed out, and can’t stop herself from asking, "Why can't Shelby have a single bed?"
Fatin's reply is simple. "Because she's bringing her son."
*
Just over twelve hours later, Toni stands back as Fatin opens their front door.
And then, Shelby Goodkind is standing in front of her with a very young boy in her arms.
Fatin hugs their old school friend, but Shelby doesn’t move much. She stares at Fatin like a deer in headlights, like she can’t quite believe she's made it to her. Fatin leads her further into the house and closes the door for her.
Toni tries not to stare, but she can’t help it.
Shelby's hair is as blonde as it had been when they were in school, shoved up into a messy bun. She’s thinner, Toni can tell even though she’s wearing a winter coat. She’s probably too thin, though her cheeks are a little puffy. Toni puts that down to how red her eyes are, an obvious sign that she’s been crying a lot on her journey here. Toni spots a fading, yellowish bruise on Shelby’s cheek, which must be at least a week old based on the color. But Shelby also has a cut on her lip, and it’s deep and open, clearly given to her more recently.
The baby boy Shelby is holding has his arms fastened around Shelby's neck, his little hands gripping her tightly. His face is buried into Shelby, his hair is just a little shorter than shoulder length and even more golden than Shelby’s, and he’s wearing a long, navy blue raincoat patterned with dinosaurs.
Fatin leads Shelby to the couch, and Toni decides to make herself useful by getting her a glass of water. The moment to say hello naturally seems to have passed.
As she fills a glass with tap water, Toni can hear Shelby repeating that she’s "sorry" as Fatin gently shushes her, assuring her that it’s "no problem at all."
"We're happy to have you here," Fatin says as Toni approaches the couch with a cup of water. Fatin rubs the child's back softly, adding, "Both of you.”
The toddler presses himself even more purposefully into Shelby's body now they’re on the couch, kneeling on her thighs with his arms around her neck and head tucked tightly into her front, wriggling around every few seconds, as though trying to get even closer to Shelby.
Toni clears her throat, and Shelby glances up at her. It’s obvious to Toni then that, despite the bruising to her face and tired eyes, Shelby is every bit as beautiful as she had been when they were teenagers.
She holds the glass of water out to Shelby and mumbles an awkward, "Hey."
"Hey," Shelby replies softly, reaching for the glass. "Thank you."
Shelby has to move one of her hands away from her son's back to reach for the glass, and when she does, he cries out, digging his knees into her legs and pushing his body against her.
"It's okay, Jacob," Shelby whispers, leaning into him, "you're okay, baby." She holds him tightly with her free hand, and he settles into her embrace.
Toni wants to tell her that Jacob is a cute name, but she can’t get any words out. She just watches Shelby's hand shake around the glass of water, praying that the little boy's face won’t look like Shelby's when she finally sees it.
"Do you have anything in the car that needs bringing in?" Fatin asks.
"Just a bag with some of Jacob's things in the back," Shelby replies quietly.
Toni jumps at the opportunity to get it for her, saddened at the thought of Shelby having nothing of her own with her.
Jacob is asleep in Shelby's arms when she returns from the car. His grip on Shelby has slackened, and he’s turned slightly on his side. Half of his face is still pressed into Shelby, but the other half is now visible. Toni is beyond relieved to see there isn’t a single mark on his face.
"You must be tired," Fatin says, helping Shelby remove Jacob's shoes.
Shelby nods, then tilted her head back against the couch, scrunching her eyes shut. Toni sees her lip quiver and knows she’s about to burst into tears.
"I'll go get your bed ready," Toni says, despite the room already having been ready for their arrival since early afternoon.
Fatin smiles sadly at her and nods, silently thanking her for leaving her alone with Shelby.
Moments later, Toni sits on the bed of her new room, holding her head in her hands as she listens to Shelby’s cries. She hears Fatin soothing her, promising her they’re safe, that this is their home now.
All Toni can think about was what ifs. What if this time six years ago, she'd stopped Shelby from leaving Fatin's parent's bedroom? What if she'd kissed her for longer, never let her go? What if she'd reached out to Shelby? What if she'd been there for her like Fatin was?
She knows deep down that maybe it wouldn't have made a difference, that perhaps nothing would have ever romantically progressed between them, that Shelby could still have met her abuser, still have fallen in love with her, and cut Toni out of her life the same way she had with everyone else.
But, Toni can’t stop asking herself, what if it would have made a difference?
Thirty minutes or so later—long after she's stopped hearing Shelby cry—Toni hears Fatin moving. She meets her at the top of the staircase.
"She's asleep," Fatin says, and Toni can tell she’s about to drop too. She sounds exhausted, and her eyes are damp. "They're both asleep. I'm just gonna put a blanket over them."
"I'll do it," Toni offers, "you go to bed."
Fatin nods, clearly too drained to argue. "Thank you," she whispers, heading toward her bedroom before stopping to call Toni's name. When Toni turns to face her, she says, "This is still just as much your home as it was yesterday. You don't ever have to worry about that."
Toni swallows a lump in her throat and mouths a thank you, knowing she'll cry if she says the words aloud. She creeps down the stairs slowly with the blanket, careful not to wake Shelby or Jacob.
When she approaches the couch, she sees large, captivating green eyes staring back at her. They don’t belong to Shelby, though; they belong to her son, who Toni can now see is the absolute spit of Shelby.
Toni moves closer, and the little boy cowers slightly.
He turns his body toward Shelby but keeps looking at Toni as he lifts his arm, stopping when his little hand is covering Shelby's face.
Toni feels all the color drain from her cheeks. She's witnessed enough in her life to understand his behavior, knows the difference between fear for yourself and fear for another. Jacob isn’t scared of Toni hurting him, he just wants to protect his mommy.
"Hey, it's okay," Toni whispers softly, holding the blanket up for him to see. "I'm just bringing you this."
The little boy’s eyes remain on hers, his hand still spread out over Shelby's bruised face.
"Nobody's gonna hurt your mommy here," Toni says, her voice cracking as she kneels down to his level, unsure if he’s old enough to understand her.
She smiles at him, and he finally lets his eyes shift away from her. Then, he slowly moves his hand off Shelby's face and points behind Toni with a cautious finger.
Toni turns to see the bag she retrieved from Shelby's car, and poking out the top of the bag is the head of a soft plush toy. It’s Stitch from Lilo and Stitch.
She pulls the toy out of the bag and slowly hands it to him.
"Sticks!" he whispers excitedly, clutching the toy to his chest.
Toni laughs quietly at his mispronunciation, then places the blanket over the two of them. She watches as Jacob raises his Stitch teddy to Shelby’s cheek and motions to push its dark blue nose against her skin as though it’s kissing her goodnight.
Toni fights back tears as he then settles in Shelby’s arms, causing her to shift at his constant moving. Toni freezes, anxious that she won’t know what to say if Shelby wakes up and not wanting her to be scared of confused.
Shelby doesn’t wake, but Toni sees her instinctively pull Jacob closer under the blanket.
Toni wipes her eyes as she heads back upstairs, unable to push away the image of Jacob’s tiny hand covering Shelby’s face.
She reminds herself that they’re safe now.
And she’s already desperate to keep things that way.