Chapter Text
i.
You don’t exactly know what to do when a blonde head drops onto your shoulder so suddenly that it almost makes you lose your balance.
— What the fuck is wrong with people? —
You turn around to give the stranger a piece of your mind, but right then a nose nuzzles into the skin of your neck.
“You smell like sweat.” a slurred voice with a southern accent mumbles in your ear.
You remain frozen for a moment, not entirely sure of what to say or do. Sure — you think — you probably smell like sweat and cheap deodorant, but that happens when your best friend literally drags you to some frat party right after a basketball game without giving you time for a shower.
“I-uhm- yeah, sorry about that.”
— sorry about that? What the hell were you even sorry for? —
The blonde girl — she has some of the greenest eyes you have ever seen and incredibly red cheeks from the alcohol — half-shrugs and keeps nuzzling the tip of her nose against your cheek this time.
“I don’t mind.”
“Okay, but I do mind and I very much need my shoulder now.”
The stranger whines and wraps her hands around your arm trapping you, “But I’m comfy.”
You scoff, “I’m sure you are- look, is any of your friends around? I think you should-”
“I need to puke.”
“WHAT?” You startle and jump to your feet in a matter of seconds, the blonde girl stumbling beside you.
You barely have the time to move aside that the stranger empties her stomach on the patch of grass in front of you both.
A small crowd gathers around and stares, some grunt in disgust and you bit your lower lip.
“Shit-” you whisper under her breath, launching forward to grasp the other girl by the hips before she can fall knees deep into her own mess, “Hey! Hey! I got you, I got you.” you tell her as soothingly as possible.
You brush the blonde hair away from her face as gently as you can and improvise a ponytail. You consider it a success because the stranger's face is free and your arm never wavers, firmly wrapped around her waist for support.
“Toni?” the crowd parts a little and your best friend Martha comes through, “What’s going on?”
“I have no idea,” you shake your head, eyes darting between the people and the blonde girl who just hangs from your arm now, “she uh— I don’t know, she came out of nowhere and now- I mean, she’s trashed.”
A boy forcefully makes his way towards the trio.
“Shelby?” he addresses the half-unconscious girl that you're holding.
He looks bothered and uneasy, his shirt is halfway open and his jeans are buttoned but the zip is down. You narrow your eyes because it looks extremely clear to you what might have gone down with this guy.
“Jesus Christ, Shelby, what the fuck?” he sighs annoyed in a louder voice.
The blonde girl — Shelby, you presume — moves between your arms, but instead of responding she holds you closer by the neck, burying her face in your shirt with a wince.
You don’t wanna think about the possible vomit stains on your t-shirt because, really, you can’t find it in yourself to care much about it.
“Yo, maybe you should tone it down.” you spit back at the boy when he roughly addresses the blonde again.
He seems to finally notice that you're there too, like you're an afterthought he’d rather not have.
“That’s my girlfriend, who the fuck are you?”
You sneer because, seriously, what’s wrong with men?
“Your girlfriend is sick, asshole, can’t you see? She needs to lie down and can everybody stop fucking staring?!”
The guy seems taken aback by the sudden aggressive tone of your voice and doesn’t step close.
“Toni, we better go, come on.” Martha suggests, gently picking at your other arm, the one that’s not holding Shelby.
You want to argue back that Shelby is not relenting her grasp, but then again maybe Shelby is not even really that conscious about what she’s doing. You will be damned if you let the blonde fall on her ass though. She might be trashed but she's clearly going through something and you don't feel like judging her for it.
“One second Marty, I need to—”
“I’ll take it from here.” the guy interrupts you, steering the blonde towards him by the hips, “Thanks uh-”
“Toni.” you suffice through your teeth.
“Yeah Toni, whatever. No need to hover, you can go.”
And you don’t want to because Shelby hasn’t really responded yet or consented to anything in her state and well… because you plainly don’t trust this guy not to drop her on a couch and just keep doing his thing, whatever that was.
But then Shelby is slowly peeling off your body and grabbing onto him with clumsy steps and you're forced to let to go because, well, what else can you do about it?
Your gaze follows them until they go inside and Martha reclaims your attention. You walk back to Martha's car, it's an oldie but she cannot afford much more and you're not about to complain as long as the car brings your ass wherever you need to be. Martha's driving and you're riding shotgun and during the whole ride back a pair of green eyes keeps roaming inside your mind.
“Who was that girl? Did you know her?”
You shake your head no. No— you have no idea where she came from and why did she choose you of all people.
Maybe, for some strange reason, you looked the most approachable person in that yard, with your gaze lost inside the illuminated swimming pool. It was a frat party, so of course the people there would be rich as fuck and could afford such things. Now that you think about it, you're not even sure how Martha managed to get in. Your mind goes back to the blonde once again.
Maybe Shelby was just purely trashed and literally did the first thing that came to her mind.
You think you'd prefer to know it was the first option, but then again there’s nothing much that could come from knowing the real reason.
ii.
You don’t think about the party again for the next couple of weeks. There’s not really a reason why you should and so you don’t. The blonde girl — Shelby, you remind yourself — still lurks in the back of your mind at times, but it’s just because you think you spot her around campus; waving at you from the opposite side of a patch of grass; passing you in the way out of a 24/7 corner store where you buy alcohol sometimes.
Shelby is not there. It’s never her and always her at the same time. But it’s not like you consciously try to think about her. It’s effortless the way she comes back to you and you’re not sure of what to make of it. You’ve known her roughly for half an hour, maybe less, and she’s still there. You wonder if she even goes to your same university, maybe she was just visiting her boyfriend — who, apparently, was a douchebag enough to find himself balls deep into someone else while his own girlfriend was around. In the darkness of your room you wonder if you’ll ever see her again.
And when your hand sneaks past the waistband of your sweatpants and into the pooling wetness between your legs, you close your eyes and find a pair of green orbs staring back at you and you feel guilty coming to the thought of her.
You don’t know this woman and you wish you could.
iii.
Martha brings you to a music festival out of town. It’s a couple of hours drive but she offers and you have nothing better to do anyway so you agree to go.
It’s boring at first, you don’t know the majority of the bands playing and you’re pretty sure they’re mostly niche, but you like to see Martha happy and she nods along, bopping her head continuously when you tell her you’re going to get something to drink from the stands.
The line is extremely long but it moves at a quick pace and sooner than expected you’re debating which kind of beer to take. They only sell craft beers and you have no fucking clue of what any of those names mean.
“You should take that one.” a girl points at one of the names on the price list and smirks at you.
You blink a few times to make sure she’s talking to you and then look back at the beers with a lost expression. The line is getting impatient behind your shoulders and you’re so close to giving them all middle fingers.
The girl chuckles and orders two of those beers, offering you one.
“My treat.” she winks and starts to walk away like she knows you’d follow.
It’s such a cliché and you’ve never been one for those, but somehow this time you bite.
“Hey wait—” she turns around with a knowing grin, “do you know a nice place where we could have this drink and I can thank you properly?”
She tilts her head to the side, the long black hair swinging past her shoulder, and taps a finger to her chin, “Aren’t you here with company?”
It’s clearly a guess, maybe a hopeful one, but she’s trying to be polite, to give you a way out and you’re grateful for that.
You shrug, “I have time.”
The brunette crocks her finger motioning for you to follow her and you do, not before sending Martha a quick text telling her you’d take more time than expected.
Fatin — as you discover — is surely a flirt, but she’s also chill and she laughs at your jokes. You think they’re terrible really, but she doesn’t mind and you’re surprised at how easily you both seem to fill the silence without embarrassment.
She offers you a joint and you both fall into an easy rhythm, passing the blunt back and forth wordlessly.
It doesn’t come as a surprise when she drags you behind one of the most isolated concession stands and pulls you into a passionate kiss. The tip of her tongue tastes of beer and weed and it’s not usually a mix you like but she makes it work somehow. You’re careful when you hoist her up, back against the wall and legs around your waist. She digs her heels on your lower back to pull you close and when you make her come twice she scratches the back of your neck with her long and perfectly manicured nails.
Which reminds you of—
“No offense, but you are not making me bleed out with those claws you got there.”
Fatin laughs both apologetically and amusedly and she whispers in your ear, “Don't worry I won't hurt you, but I still wanna make you come.” and something else about how dry humping is underrated.
And if you’re not sure you agree with that statement at first, ten minutes later she makes sure to prove you wrong.
***
When you find Martha again she looks at you worried, like some animal might have mauled you and she’s surprised to find out you’re still alive.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“I was—uh didn’t you get my text?”
Martha checks her phone and her frown disappears, “Oh… sorry, music was loud and I must’ve missed— wait, is that a hickey on your neck?”
You slap your hand on your neck immediately after but there’s no way you can cover that up with some bullshit excuse, so you don’t waste time searching for any.
“Uh yeah, I kind of met someone and we got uhm… carried away?”
Martha raises an eyebrow teasingly, “Are you asking me?”
“Shut up.” you playfully shove her by the arm, “Okay, yeah, we had sex.”
“No shit. Did you get her number?”
You have, in fact, but you’re not about to give Martha that satisfaction or hear her lecturing you about how good a new relationship would be for you.
“Nah, it was a one-time thing, but she was nice.”
“If she was nice and you both liked it, why aren’t you seeing her again?”
“Because.” you reply pointedly and then, since Martha is still staring at you, you shrug, “Some things just are not meant to be Marty, they just are good in the moment and that’s enough.”
You are not sure that Martha understands because the only relationship she had was in high school and she and Marcus had been crazy in love to the point that you wanted to puke confetti every time they strolled around the hallways hand in hand.
Martha still talks about him sometimes, but it’s mostly in a way that cherishes the past and doesn’t leave room for regret.
Nothing like you. Nothing like when you think of Regan and how you manage to destroy all the good things in your life.
It’s when you’re both walking towards the exit and the car, after the long day, that you spot a wisp of blonde hair in the distance and your heart somersault in your chest.
What the fucking fuck?
You run all the way there and when you plant yourself in front of the girl, breath short and eyes wide, you realize she’s nothing like her.
Nothing like Shelby.
“Can I help you?” the girl looks at you curiously.
“Shit I- I’m really sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
She lets out a small chuckle, “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh no, it’s not you, I mean really I shouldn’t have appeared out of nowhere like that.”
“It’s fine, no worries.” the girl settles and then, before she can walk away and join the rest of her friends, she touches your arm delicately, faint stroking of fingers, “Whoever you’re searching for, I hope you find her.”
She walks away and you blink at yourself, rooted to the spot.
“Yeah. Me too.” your whisper gets lost to the air.
iv.
You don’t exactly believe in fate, nor in a superior magic that rules the universe and makes things go together and not because you’re skeptical — maybe you are, but that’s beside the point —. No, you don’t believe in it because your life has fucked you over many times and each time worse than the other if possible.
And fate, just because it’s fate and can afford to mess around however it likes, proves you wrong for once.
You don’t find Shelby but Shelby finds you. It’s unexpected like a thunderstorm during a hot and sunny day of July. And fuck you really feel like a walking cliché.
“There you are!” she says with a wide green, sighing in relief as if her life mission until that point has been finding you again.
“Here I am.” you reply dumbly.
She’s even more beautiful than you can remember her and okay, that’s fair enough because the first time you met her she was a wreck — but still beautiful.
Shelby sinks her teeth into her lower lip and chuckles to herself, “I gotta admit, I was quite convinced I had you all made up in my mind the morning after that party. Andrew didn’t mention you, but I could remember someone else being there.”
You briefly register that Andrew must’ve been that douchebag with her and as soon as that information reaches your mind, you wish to erase it.
“Ah yeah- uh well, you kinda crashed onto me.”
Shelby blushes and covers her face with both hands, “Oh Lord, I’m so embarrassed, I’m really sorry, Toni. I don’t remember much, but I must’ve bothered you and you’ve been such a sweetheart to help me out.”
Woah. Hit the fucking brakes because did this girl — no doubt heavensent — just call you a sweetheart?
Toni — hothead, messy, walking disaster — Shalifoe a sweetheart? And for showing some basic human decency? Jesus, the bar for Shelby must’ve been in hell and you feel sorry for her for a moment.
Before something else clicks into your mind and the words come out without permission, “You remember my name?”
Shelby quirks an eyebrow and looks at you curiously now, her cheeks are still pink but she seems in control of her own emotions.
“Why of course. I mean, it did take me a while to find you, the university is big and I couldn’t recall much of the night at first, but then yes. I’ve had a couple of people pointing me to you.”
You wonder who since you don’t really have many friends, but then suddenly remember you’re in that university with a basketball scholarship, and quite a few people might at least know your name.
“Oh cool, cool.” your gaze shifts from Shelby’s magnetic eyes to your worn sneakers and it hits just how different you both look.
It must be a weird mix to see from the outside, but Shelby is there talking to you, after spending quite a bit of time searching for you apparently. And really differences can fuck off.
“I’m sorry about that night,” when Shelby only looks on, you add, “about your boyfriend I mean. He was being quite a dick to you.”
“Ah him, well…” Shelby clicks her tongue and gives a shrug, “we’re not together anymore.”
“Oh, I’m sorry?” you try, but it sounds forced even to your own ears.
Shelby must think the same because she actually gives a good laugh at that, “Except you’re not.”
She says not unkindly and you can hear a hint of tease in her voice.
“No, I’m not really.” you concede.
“Well good because you’re right, he was being a dick and that was not the first time, but he was also cheating and just—” Shelby grimaces like she’s watching a personal movie inside her head — and a really shit one judging from her face —, “let’s say it was about time.”
You don’t know what to make of this whole interaction, but you’re sure of one thing and that is that you don’t want it to end.
“Listen, how about we go somewhere better than this hallway and you can tell me all about your desperate quest to find me?”
You’re not one for dramatics but it makes Shelby laugh and you can’t help but smile back, thinking you wouldn’t mind being a little over the top if it means you can see her that way again.
v.
After that, a routine stems out. It’s not really a routine in the typical sense of the word, but you see Shelby with consistency and you can sense a pattern in the things you do.
You meet Shelby one time at the library while studying and she offers to keep you company for a break at the ground floor where the totally shitty and overpriced coffee shop is.
You frown at how much sugar and whipped cream she puts in her mocha, but when you taste your own drink — “Just black coffee for me.” Shelby sent you a shocked look, “You’re a psychopath, Toni.” — you think she might’ve been onto something with all that sugary crap.
Shelby tells you about the play she’s writing an essay about for her English course and you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen anyone else being that excited while recounting the plot of Miller’s Death of a Salesman.
She has almost you hooked up on the play as well and she tells you can borrow her copy once she’s done with the essay. The smile she gives you makes you want to do good by that promise.
The break ends up carrying for a whole hour and when you look at the big clock and mutter a “Shit!” she looks worried as well.
“Lord, it’s mighty late, Nora must think I’ve gone missing.”
Nora is Shelby’s roommate and they often back each other’s up to be study partners and avoid distractions.
The word leaves a sour taste in your mouth at first, thinking that Shelby might consider you a distraction, but then you think again about the wide smiles she has been giving you all afternoon and you decide you don’t care enough for that simple word to ruin your mood.
Shelby walks you back to the third floor where all your books are situated and where Martha is also studying. Your best friend is too immersed in her own coursework to notice you’re back and so she and Shelby don’t get a chance to introduce each other.
“Thanks for the company.” you say, mentally wondering how long ’til the next time you’ll see her.
“Oh, it was my pleasure.” Shelby smiles genuinely and you wish you could stop getting lost in her eyes a little bit.
Then it finally comes to you.
“Would you like to come to the basketball game next week?” you kick a little at the backpack on the floor with a big sticker of the university basketball team.
“Will you be playing?”
You smirk confidently, “They can’t win if I’m not there.”
“Show off.”
You shake your head and then wink, “You haven’t seen me showing off yet.”
Shelby rolls her eyes and smacks you on the shoulder playfully, “I’ll try to free my schedule but I don’t make promises.”
It’s shifting dangerously from bantering to flirting and so you add, “It’ll be worth it.” for good measure.
Just in case. What’s there to lose? Worst case scenario, Shelby will shut your attempts down.
Maybe you haven’t thought this whole thing through, but she stares at you curiously, almost as if she wants to challenge you to say more, do more.
In the end she settles for a safe, “I’m sure it will.”
It’s not a victory but it’s not a loss either.
vi.
Martha meets Shelby at the game and they hit it off pretty quickly. You wave at them up on the bleachers right before the teams huddle for some last minute game schemes and your mind zones out. There’s the court, the ball, the team, the net and the game. The rest can wait.
You score the highest number of points but your team still loses. It’s not the worst loss of the season but it dampens your mood significantly. It’s a reminder that no matter how great you can be, some things just don’t work out.
Martha hugs you after you come out of the locker room, freshly showered and exhausted, and tells you it’s okay, there will be other games.
Shelby is there with a sympathetic smile on her lips.
“I tried.” you tell her and raise a shoulder with a bitter smile.
“Are you kidding? Toni you were so good out there!” her eyes widens a little and you’re taken aback by the sincere enthusiasm and… is that pride you see? “I know the team lost, but really you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. An only player can’t win a team game.”
It’s a motto you’ve never heard before but it makes sense.
Martha drives you both to the place you usually go to get food after a game and some days you feel like wolfing down hamburger and fries, but tonight still feels wrong and when your turn comes for the order you just ask for pancakes and maple syrup.
Martha looks at you like you might have grown a second head.
“Toni did you hit your head or something?”
You roll your eyes, “No need to be dramatic Marty, I’m just not really hungry.”
“Since when?!”
“You couldn’t have helped them win the game any more than you’ve done.” Shelby intervenes and somehow her words soothe right through you like a balm.
It’s one of the few times in your life when things have not gone exactly as planned, but you’ve given your best and that’s enough.
You can’t scroll past the thought that it's Shelby telling you that you’re enough.
vii.
You meet Fatin again at a party and the surprise is evident on your face when the other brunette drapes an arm behind your shoulders and pulls you close for a kiss on the cheek.
“Oh my god, Dot!” she calls back to a friend, “Remember when I told you about the hottie at the music festival? I found her again.”
You are not sure if you should be embarrassed or proud of the lasting impression you've made, but Dot looks at you amusedly and slaps a hand onto your back like you're both long time friends.
“What’s up, dude? Glad to put a face to the stories.”
You feel your cheeks flush this time and lower your gaze, “It was just one time.”
Fatin laughs in your ear, “Don’t sell yourself short.”
You briefly wonder if you’re going to have sex again that night. And it's not like you're completely against the idea, but you're not really at the party for that.
Fatin seems to precede you, “How come you’re here?”
“Friends invited me.” you shrug and it’s true, Rachel and Leah must be somewhere around, but you haven't spotted them yet.
“You look awfully lonely though… wanna stick around with me and Dot while you find those friends of yours?”
You do stick around and when Rachel and Leah finally make their way to where you are, they don’t seem against sitting with Fatin and Dot as well.
You realize you must look like a strange bunch from outside, none of you really fitting with each other, but conversations flows better than expected and you join Dot in playing a game of 'how long until Fatin and Leah realize they're into each other?'
It’s only when you go for a bathroom break that you pull your phone out of the back pocket and find a couple of messages from Shelby.
[22:45] Shelby
Just found out there’s an ice rink not far away from our uni.
Can’t find anyone who appreciates skating so would you like to check it out with me?
[23:00] Shelby
You don’t have to, of course, I don’t even know if you like it, but in case you do well... let me know?
You are not sure you are into it because, well, you don’t even know how to ice skate. But Shelby is asking you to go and— oh jesus, is that a date?
Before you can give your mind too much time to overthink and panic, you type a reply.
[23:15] Toni
Sure. Let’s do it.
viii.
“I can’t believe you’re from Minnesota and never went ice skating.” Shelby laughs and then some more when you grunt.
You're trying to keep yourself upright but it’s a challenge and while part of you just wants to quit, another part doesn’t want to let Shelby down and cut your time time short.
When you fall on your ass for the second time though, it’s Shelby herself that pulls you up and intertwines your hands together.
“I’ll guide you,” she smiles at you sincerely, “you trust me?”
“Yeah.”
You can’t help but feel like Shelby is asking for more than just the stupid ice rink.
You go for churros and hot chocolate later and Shelby says they’re nothing like the ones she had in Spain last summer while on vacation.
“Fucking one-percenters.” you chuckle and Shelby looks back at you with a smirk and a new glint in her eyes.
“Yeah, fuck ‘em.”
***
There’s a movie night next and then a bowling one and both times it’s Shelby that invites you.
Martha tells you it’s quite obvious Shelby is interested and you want to believe her, but Shelby hasn’t done anything risky to make you really think that she might want more.
If you don’t count that she burrowed her face into your caramel jacket because she’s scared of horror movies (even though she was the one to suggest it).
Or that Shelby has crushed your hand during the jump scares and didn’t let go until you were both out of the cinema and on the way back to her car.
Or that she pouted after none of her pins went down and you cashed your third consecutive strike of the night. She might’ve asked you to help her out, getting her position right, and okay you might have heard her gasp when the front of your body pressed tightly against her back.
And, well, shit — you think Martha might be onto something after all.
ix.
Rachel slaps your hand away, “Don’t be a dick Toni.”
You send her a dirty glance and cradle the offended limb, “Am not!” before trying to sneak your hand to the plate again.
“Yes you are.” this time there’s a rough nudge at your ribs and you positively growl at Rachel.
“Stop that!”
“Then have some decency and ask if anyone else wants the last slice of pizza before taking it.”
“Get fucked, Rach.”
“Charming as usual.”
You want to reply something else that would definitely shut Rachel up for good, but your attention is caught by a hearty laugh nearby.
Shelby has her head thrown back and the full expanse of her neck is exposed and you want nothing more than to smell her sweet scent and sink your teeth into the soft skin.
She’s playing beer-pong with Martha and the duo is losing miserably to Dot and Fatin.
You barely remember when Shelby officially got involved in the strange but familiar group that has formed; probably thanks to Nora and Rachel and maybe something to do with Dot and being from the same city back in Texas. You don’t really care, you’re just glad that she’s there and your eyes suddenly can’t seem to find anything more beautiful than her.
She must feel your heavy gaze upon herself because the next thing you know is that she’s turning around, green eyes searching for yours and she grins back.
Somehow you all get roped into playing Truth or Dare and your complaints — “We’re not twelve, Leah.” — fall on deaf ears.
Martha is next to you and Shelby sits right across, you try not to stare too much at her but she seems to find every good chance to sneak glances and well fuck, you’re weak for a pretty girl.
“Toni, truth or dare?” Dot asks.
“Truth.”
“Dude, you boring as fuck.” Fatin rolls her eyes.
You shrug, “I don’t feel like getting up for whatever dumb dare you want me to do.”
“Shit I can think of any good question.” Dot huffs and Rachel reaches out to whisper something in her ear while you narrow your eyes at both of them suspiciously.
“Toni,” Dot’s face lights up with something akin to mischief, “tell us about the time you threw your piss at someone in high school.”
The whole group bursts out laughing simply at the mention of the event, despite most of them not having any idea of what happened.
You laugh along because, yeah okay, it could’ve been a worse question. Like how does it feel to fuck up a relationship or when was the last time you spoke to your mom. Maybe even who’s the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen, because then you’d have to admit—
“Girl hurry the fuck up, we don’t have all night.” Fatin presses and you throw an empty solo cup at her but finally tell the damn story.
In the end Rachel, Dot and Fatin are rolling with laughter; Martha is shaking her head beside you like she’s remembering the event with a totally different perspective; Nora and Leah look at you with a mix of respect and disbelief. But Shelby is still the only one you notice.
She’s laughing not unkindly like she finds what you’ve done extremely funny and incredible at the same time. You like the sound of her laugh, the way it seems to trap itself inside her throat before tumbling out in unrestrained waves.
Fuck — studying English with Leah must be rubbing off on you big time because you’ve never been the poetic type.
You start to feel exposed for some reason and your hands are fidgeting, so you busy yourself by downing the entirety of Martha’s drink.
“Hey! That was mine.” your best friend complains.
“Sorry Marty,” you smile innocently, “I’m gonna grab you another one.”
You walk to the kitchen and gulp down water directly from the faucet and you don’t mind that some drops slip past your t-shirt or splash against your face.
“You okay?” a soft voice comes from behind you and you choke on the next sip of water.
Shelby pats a hand to your back when you start coughing, “Oh Lord I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay.” you say, voice hoarse, “I just didn’t hear you.”
“You abandoned the ship?” you say after a beat, nodding your head towards the group still playing.
Shelby gives a nonchalant shrug, “Needed a break and I realized I haven’t really spoken to you tonight, like, at all.”
You give her an amused glance, “Some people would say lucky you.”
Shelby doesn’t add anything to that and then hits you with an unexpected question.
“How does it feel?”
“How does what feel?”
“Kissing a girl.”
Oh
You didn’t expect the conversation to turn this way.
“Uh good.”
Shelby quirks an eyebrow and you feel shy under her intense gaze.
“I mean, it felt right for me. The first time I kissed a girl everything kinda clicked into place.”
Shelby frowns like she’s trying to truly unveil the meaning of your words.
“Right how?”
“Like— uh like… fuck, I don’t know.” you shake your head, “There’s something building in the pit of your stomach and it keeps growing and growing and you feel like there’s a fire burning inside you every time that person is close… so you kiss her and it feels right.”
You realize your gaze has been trained to the floor and you finally look back at her. Shelby’s staring at you with her wide green eyes and you’re not sure if she’s just more confused or turned on.
In all honesty, you’re not even sure of what the fuck is happening anymore.
“I want to kiss you.” Shelby takes the breath out of your lungs.
OH
She bites her lower lip like she’s not sure it was the right thing to say at all. You must stare at her like someone has just turned you inside out because she decides to speak more.
“I’ve been wanting to for a while now, I just… I know we got something good going on and I don’t wanna ruin it because— what if it doesn’t feel right?”
x.
You kiss Shelby Goodkind for the first time in the kitchen of Fatin and Dot’s apartment. She sneaks her hands around your neck and pushes back against your lips until she can taste your tongue and then she moans inside your mouth.
And god — you’re already a goner for her, while your hands find her hips so naturally as if her body was made to fit right against yours. You grasp and then relax and it’s a continuous push and pull between you two.
You want her so badly you don’t even think about your friends that are all busy playing rounds of Truth or Dare a few feet away, or that you’re supposed to get Martha a new drink.
Instead, you’re pressing Shelby against the counter and kissing her like she’s the first breath of air after being underwater for too long.
And it doesn’t feel right.
It feels perfect.