Chapter Text
It only took a few classes for Morgan to realize exactly why she’d been putting off taking biology: she sucked at it.
Which was why she was staring at a picture of an animal cell on a Friday night two weeks after the semester started and thinking about all the other things she’d rather be doing than memorizing the structure of it. “Filing off my fingerprints,” she muttered, jotting it down on a piece of paper. “Letting someone use my body for darts target practice.”
She was in the middle of writing “darts” when a pounding on her door caused her to jump and slash the pen across the page. “Whoops,” she muttered, jumping to her feet and welcoming the distraction. A quick look out the peephole made her grin with relief, and she yanked the door open to reveal a brunette with a pixie cut and a redhead, both in flannel shirts and jeans.
“Hey!”
“Morgan!” the brunette—Kari Price—yelled gleefully. “What are you doing?”
“Studying. Come in.”
They did, and the redhead—Bonnie Ritten—grabbed the biology book off the kitchen table. “Why are you studying? Don’t you know it’s Friday night?”
“Party time, bee-yatch!” Kari cried.
Morgan raised an eyebrow. “How much have you already had?”
“Two,” Kari said.
“Three,” Bonnie corrected.
“Three,” Kari agreed.
Morgan looked Bonnie up and down. “You seem sober.”
She shrugged. “I’m taking some time off. A visit home always dries me out for a little while, you know?”
Morgan did know. She, Kari, and Bonnie had gone to the same hockey camp before their sophomore year of high school and been friends ever since. Part of the reason Morgan had picked this school was because Kari had already declared. Now Morgan was team captain, and Bonnie and Kari were her assistant captains and, more importantly, two of her best friends.
Morgan didn’t want to think about next year, when they wouldn’t have this team anymore.
“What were you guys planning?” Morgan asked, taking the biology book back from Bonnie and closing it. She wasn’t going to get any more work done tonight unless she kicked them out, and she really didn’t want to kick them out.
“Dancing!” Kari squealed.
Morgan made a face. “I hate dancing.”
“So just come to the bar, then,” Bonnie said. “I’m going to be the DD anyway, and Delia and some of the juniors were planning to show up.” When Morgan still hesitated, Bonnie added, “Come on, we’re barely going to be able to drink in another week or so when the season starts. Might as well take a last hurrah.”
Morgan dropped the book back on the kitchen table. “Okay, I’m in. Let me put on some pants that aren’t flannel.”
She shot off a text to Brooke, who was in the lab working on research for her master’s program until God knew what time, then changed into a pair of jeans, a tight tank top, and an open denim shirt over it. With all her talk about moving on from Sally, maybe this was the opportunity she’d been looking for. The city wasn’t exactly teeming with lesbians, but it’s not like Morgan had been cutting a wide swath through them either. It seemed like there ought to be at least one out there.
*
After three hours of watching Kari, Delia, and half the rest of the team drink themselves into a stupor, Morgan had come to one conclusion: There were no single lesbians left in the entire city.
Or if there were, they didn’t come to this bar.
“Are you looking for someone?” Bonnie asked when Morgan’s eyes flicked to the door for the fiftieth time. She frowned when she saw a group of guys with backward caps and Vikings shirts walk in, laughing like this wasn’t their first stop of the night.
“No one in particular.”
“You sure? Because I’m worried you’re going to pull a muscle in your neck.”
Morgan frowned and turned her head back and forth as if she could get hurt just from the suggestion. “I’m fine.”
“You seem distracted.”
“I’m just thinking about something.”
“Feel like sharing?”
“Not really.”
“Gonna share anyway?”
“Probably.” Morgan shot her a rueful look. “I always do, don’t I?”
“Yup. So you might as well make it easy on yourself.”
“I just… I don’t know. I think I’m ready to… start dating again.” It felt like every word had to be forced out of her mouth.
“About damn time,” Bonnie said, looking far more pleased than Morgan thought she had any right to. “I thought you were gunning for admission to a convent.”
“I think I already disqualified myself from that.”
“There’s a bet going on, you know.”
“Fuck off. There is not.”
“Is so. We were all wondering when you’d finally realize you’re worth ten of Sally and get over her.”
Morgan sat up a little straighter, intrigued. “When did you pick?”
“A year ago, you dumb bitch.”
“Sucker.”
“Yeah,” Bonnie said, glowering. “How dare I have faith in you?”
“Well, it’s not like there’s anyone here to even move on with.” Morgan slouched back in her seat sulkily. “Everyone in this damn club is straight except, well, them.” She nodded at two of their teammates, who were engaged in a very not-for-public-consumption lip-lock.
Bonnie made a face and swatted at the closest one. “Get a room,” she said, and both girls giggled at her. “Kids,” she muttered when they’d disappeared onto the dance floor. “How’d they even get in here?”
“Alright, Grandma.” Morgan smirked. “Like you only used your fake ID for upstanding purposes.”
Bonnie ignored her. “Anyway, it’s good that you’re finally ready to move on. And look, the chick at the bar, the one with the straight couple who’s forgotten she exists? She’s been checking you out all night.”
“What?” Morgan’s head snapped around too fast for her to remember she should probably play it cool, and she craned her neck to try to see. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Women—and men—check you out all the time. You’ve never wanted me to mention it before. How was I supposed to know this time was different?”
Morgan stood up in a way she hoped looked casual. “Which woman?” she asked Bonnie, who wasn’t trying very hard not to roll her eyes.
“Directly behind you, playing on her phone.”
Morgan flicked a glance over her shoulder, then did a double take and stared so long that Bonnie exclaimed, “Have you ever been subtle?” in exasperation.
“I know her,” Morgan said excitedly. “She sits next to me in biology.” She thought about that for a second and felt strangely disappointed. “Oh. She wasn’t checking me out. She probably just recognized me.”
“You’re an idiot,” Bonnie said affectionately. “Just because I choose not to use this skill doesn’t mean I can’t tell the difference between, ‘Oh, I recognize that person,’ and, ‘I want to bone that person.’ “
Morgan was distracted for a moment. “Gross. Don’t say bone.”
“Fine. I want to fu—”
“Okay! I get it!”
“Well, then go do something about it.”
“I—okay.” Morgan straightened her shoulders a little, then said again, “Okay.”
She made it five steps closer to the bar before she spun around with her eyes wide. “What?” Bonnie asked, slightly alarmed.
Morgan crashed back into the seat. “I have no idea what to do when I get up there.”
“Jesus, Jeps. Have you never asked a woman out?” Morgan tried to look indignant, but she must not have been successful, because Bonnie said, “Oh my God. You’ve never asked a woman out.”
“They always ask me!” she protested. “I’ve never had to think about this end and—shit, where’d she go?” Morgan had looked back over at the bar, but Emily was gone, though her friends were still there.
Bonnie craned her neck to see better in a way that was about as subtle as Morgan had been. “I don’t know. Bathroom maybe?”
Morgan slumped back down, feeling defeated and kind of stupid. She took a big gulp of her beer and said, “Fuck,” wholeheartedly.
Then she felt a tap on her shoulder, and Bonnie’s gaze turned soft and teasing. Morgan sat up straighter and turned around to see Emily standing there, looking sheepish. “Hi,” she said, and she sounded almost nervous.
“Hi!” Morgan replied, her voice far too high and loud. She didn’t look at Bonnie so she wouldn’t have to see her laughing.
“I was, uh, wondering if you wanted to dance.”
“Sure!” Morgan nearly tripped over the chair as she jumped up.
“But you hate dancing!” Bonnie laughed, and Morgan lifted a finger in her direction.
The music was too loud to talk when they got out to the dance floor, which was probably a good thing, because Morgan’s palms were sweating and she could feel an absolute mess of a ramble on the tip of her tongue.
Emily began to move to the beat of the music, and Morgan suddenly remembered with startling clarity just why she hated dancing so much. Still, she bopped gamely along, trying not to feel as dumb as she was sure she looked. If it bothered Emily, she didn’t show it, though. Instead, she smiled almost shyly and reached out to put her hands on Morgan’s waist.
It had been a long time since someone had touched her in any way that was more than a friendly hug or playful slap. She was thankful for the dim lighting that hid her blush and the loud music that covered her sharp intake of breath as parts of her body that she hadn’t realized were lying dormant suddenly woke up.
Her moves—if they could be called that—began to sync better with Emily’s now that they were touching. Morgan rested her arms on Emily’s shoulders and moved a little closer, and her breasts brushed up against Emily, and wow. She’d had no idea she was missing this so badly. Her body, like it had been starved, cried out for the attention.
Emily’s lips brushed her ear as she spoke. “Want to get out of here?”
Morgan jerked back a little, and all the zinging and tingling faded a bit. “Oh,” she said. “I, uh, I’m not really… looking for a one-night stand.” She tried to stop there, but her mouth kept going without permission. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Sexual liberation, yay! But I’m not really into it. I like to get to know someone first, you know? I was thinking this would maybe lead to a date or whatever, but if you’d rather… if you’re, you know, not into that, or, uh, not interested or… um, anyway, I think… I think I should probably stop talking.”
Emily’s eyes had been getting a little wider every second that Morgan babbled, and she bit her lip to keep from starting up again. It was only fair to let someone else talk once in a while. “I’m sorry!” Emily blurted as soon as Morgan had paused. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. I’m cool with one-night stands, but I’m also cool with… not one-night stands.”
Morgan let out a breath. “Maybe… maybe we could hang out then?” she asked, feeling far more nervous than she’d expected. “After class or something?”
Emily grinned. “I’d like that.” She dug around in her back pocket for her phone. “Here, put your number in.”
Morgan did and handed it back as the music changed. Emily jerked her head back to her friends. “I’ve got to go,” she said. She sounded disappointed. Morgan’s heart did a pathetic little double-thump.
“I’ll see you in class on Monday?”
“I’ll be the one with the gag for Parker’s mouth.” She winked when the familiar words made Morgan laugh unexpectedly.
Morgan couldn’t help but watch her walk away, then let out the breath she’d been holding and bounded back to her own table, where Bonnie was still holding court and nursing a ginger ale. She glanced up and said, “No need to ask how that went. You look like a puppy.”
“Do not,” Morgan argued, but she was beaming too broadly to put any heat behind it.
“I’m surprised you’re not wagging your tail.”
“I’m wagging on the inside.”
Bonnie laughed, and Morgan plopped down next to her. “So, good?”
“We danced. She tried to have sex with me. I gave her my number.”
Bonnie nearly spit out the sip of ginger ale she’d just taken. “I’m sorry. What was that second thing?”
Morgan squirmed, a little embarrassed to be talking about it so baldly. “She wanted to go somewhere.”
“And you said no?”
She shrugged and stole Bonnie’s drink to take a sip. “I’m not ready for that. Especially not with someone I just met.”
“Didn’t you and Chelsea have sex the day you met?”
“I never slept with Chelsea!” Her words must have been a little louder than she thought, because a few people nearby looked over. She lowered her voice. “Is she saying we did? Because we fooled around a little, but it never went that far.”
“Relax, she’s not saying anything. We all just assumed because, well, you weren’t really dating her, so we figured you had to be doing something.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “Well, we didn’t do that.”
“So you haven’t since EJ?”
Morgan didn’t want to think about EJ. Because thinking of EJ meant thinking of Sally, and she’d just, just gotten to the point where she wasn’t thinking about Sally every time a cute girl talked to her.
“I don’t want to talk about this. Especially not in the middle of a bar.”
“Where are we supposed to talk about it, if not someplace where there’s alcohol to lower your inhibitions, Minnesota?”
“When we’re drinking in my apartment. Alone. Where half the city can’t hear it.”
“Okay, first of all, nobody can hear anything that’s not two feet away from them. Second of all, there’s no way in hell this is half the city. It’s a dive bar.”
“It doesn’t matter. Yes, it’s been a while, but I happen to be one of those people who isn’t obsessed with sex, and I can go awhile without having it, okay?”
Bonnie held up her hands, palms out. “Hey, you’re preaching to the choir, kid. I’m not trying to give you a hard time. I’m just… checking in.”
“I’m fine. Good even. And I want to stay good. So can we…?” Morgan made an aimless gesture that didn’t really mean anything, but Bonnie seemed to understand.
“Sure. We can.” She smiled softly and nudged Morgan’s shoulder with her own. “Can I get you on the dance floor with me, seeing as how you’ve already been out there?”
“Nope,” Morgan said, leaning back in the chair until she could see her teammates. “But you can probably join Kari and the others.”
Bonnie leaned back too. “Nah,” she said. “I’ll stay here with you.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Morgan saw Emily’s tall form as she waded through the crowd towards the exit, and she felt the smile grow on her lips again at the possibilities. A very interesting semester, indeed.