Helmet Hair, Paper Affairs: A Sashanne Fanfic

Chapter Six: Chasm

"Do you really think I'd be low enough to befriend someone just for popularity?" The words fell from Anne's mouth.

Marcy glanced back to the floor, a tinge of guilt lining her expression. "Who's to say she isn't just using you? Inevitably, you're going to finish your projects, then what?"

Anne wrung the shirt in her hands, brushing her thumb slowly across the fabric.

Anne hesitated on her next words. "She...wouldn't do that."

"Would she?" Marcy flipped Anne's statement to whack it in her face. Brutally honest, but truth undoubtedly laced in those words.

Anne wanted to believe so badly that Sasha was different, but maybe that was wistful thinking. What, really, had Sasha done that wasn't the bare minimum?

"I'm sorry if that sounded harsh of me," Marcy then blurted, remorse in her voice. "I just care about you okay?"

Anne blew air from her nose in a sigh as Marcy came to sit next to her. Marcy crossed their legs up on the bed, gently taking the end of Anne's fingers. "I don't want her to make you feel special, only to make you feel like nothing."

Anne brought her eyes to Marcys and softly smiled.

"Don't worry," Anne took the shirt and rolled it back into a ball with her free hand. "I'm not weak enough to fall for something like that, and plus-" she tossed the shirt past Marcy on the bed toward the basket in the hall.

"I think you're all I'll need to feel important to someone."

Marcy released a lighthearted laugh, watching the clothing miss the basket once again.

"Ha, I think maybe some better coordination and you could def make it on the basketball team," Marcy beamed, sarcastic in manner.

"Ye of little faith. I bet in another universe I'm great at basketball," Anne scoffed. "I challenge thee," Anne swept a pair of socks from the floor, waving them at Marcy.

"Anne gross!" Marcy leapt from the bed to flee as Anne erupted into a cackle, laughter filling the dorm.

-

Tock tock tock. Tock. Tock.

A short, musical knock alerted Anne to the door. Peering through the peephole, she was met with a girl, waiting patiently on the opposite side.

Anne opened the door.

"I've never quite heard a knock like that," Anne let the guest inside, intrigued.

"Good, that's how you'll always know it's me," Sasha held a duffle bag around her shoulders and another bag on her back with hanging cleats tied by the shoelaces. "Um, sorry, I know this stuff's bulky, but I have practice right after this so I thought-"

"It's okay, I get it. You can set it anywhere, we don't really mind," Anne shut the door.

"We?" Sasha echoed.

"My dorm mate is here for the afternoon, they only have morning classes Thursdays," Anne led her down to the kitchen, where Marcy sat with their laptop open, papers scattered at the table, glasses rested on her nose and a headband in her hair to keep bangs from her face as she worked.

"Welcome," Marcy greeted, but Anne heard a superficial tone.

"Hey," Sasha dumped her bags on the floor next to the counter with a wave.

"Sasha, Marcy. Marcy, Sasha," Anne introduced.

"Neat. I actually have an aunt named Marcy, but her full name is Marsha," Sasha tried connecting, but it fell on indifferent ears.