Tatum just stared at Mackenzie after the slap, waiting for the older girl to react, do something. She didn't seem like she was going to do much of anything. She was just laying there, totally listless, totally unlike the sophomore in shining armor that had saved her for that first time. It felt like forever ago now, but she could still feel Mackenzie's hand on her shoulder, that firm squeeze, and the little smile they had exchanged that evening.

She had been so embarrassed. People picked on her all of the time, and it was mostly because she was an easy target. People could pick on her, because she just put her head down and let it happen. Things hadn't changed that much since then, she still kept her tail between her legs if push came to shove in normal circumstance, but they had changed. How had they gotten from there to here? Best friends, trying to beat each other senseless over a girl. It was almost boorish, but there was no going back now.

She couldn't recall what Mackenzie had even saved her from that first time. Or the second. Had someone knocked her books out of her arms again? Put an exploding snap in her backpack? It was too long ago to recall the details now, but she couldn't shake that reassurance, that look Mackenzie had given her back then. She didn't even know her, didn't know that she was just an unpopular freshman, she just helped her. And then stuck around to help her. And this was how she was repaying her.

The redhead bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, trying to stay strong, fighting desperately against an onslaught of tears threatening to slip out. All of this hitting and screaming wasn't her, and although she did love Frankie, wanted Frankie to know she would go up against anyone for her, this wasn't the way to accomplish it. Mack was still laying there, seeming to ignore her still, and she doubted she would get a fight. She just needed to go back to her room and cry it out, just like everything else.

"Fine," she spat, moving to try to get up, when all at once Mack was sitting up and pressing a finger to her lips. Her eyebrows furrowed, but she didn't fight, sitting still and hearing the blonde out on what she needed to say. Was she.. crying? Tatum didn't think she was seeing things right. She found herself squinting at her friend, her words barely computing, as she just stared her in the eyes. Yes, she was definitely crying. It was like the world was flipped upside down. They were here like this, fighting each other, and now Mack was crying. It had to be some kind of trip.

She let Mack cup her face, trying to understand the intensity of what the older girl was saying to her. They had always been close, always joked, but love was a big word. Tears were a big gesture. Tatum could practically feel herself being pulled, immediately torn, and knowing her own tears weren't going to stay away for much longer. "You can't," she tried to whisper breathlessly, feeling her leaning in, knowing what was coming, but then Mack was already kissing her.

God help her, she was kissing her back.

Pulling back after far too many seconds, Tatum was crying for real now, the flow of tears slipping over her cheeks in two distinct streams. "W-We cannot do this," she managed, her eyes wide, trembling. "We.. I can't do this. You're selfish! You can't just--"