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Tatum would not, under normal circumstances, consider herself to be the kind of person that’s desperate for anything. Quite the opposite, actually — she’s always had a great group of friends, has excelled at school and on the tennis court, and if she wanted something, her parents were all too willing to make sure she got it. She’s never really wanted for anything, and she certainly doesn’t make a habit of asking people for favors.
Turns out there’s a first time for everything.
And look, she’s the first to admit all of this could’ve been avoided. Tatum’s got a great relationship with her father, to the point where some of her exes have told her they think she’s too close with him, and it’s always been natural for her to talk to him about her dating life, too. He’s always been helpful and understanding and genuine, though sometimes maybe a little too invested, and she knows he would’ve understood if she’d told him that she and Leighton ended things.
But then it didn’t come up on the phone later that week because they were both excited about a little weekend road trip they were planning, and then on said road trip, the topic just slipped her mind. If it had been Lydia or Brandi, he probably would’ve asked why she didn’t invite them to come along, but George knows Leighton isn’t the type of girl who enjoys early mornings and hikes and the outdoors, so aside from briefly asking how she’s doing, he never mentioned her at all that weekend.
Truthfully, she doesn’t know how she managed to avoid telling him for almost a month. It makes her wonder if she’s actually a much better liar than she gives herself credit for. But then it’s early May, and they’re on the phone chatting about how she’s going to be done with finals tomorrow, and he tells her he can’t wait to see her and Leighton at his annual birthday barbecue next weekend, when they’ll both be home from school.
“Oh, right,” Tatum says, trying not to panic. Maybe she can just tell him now. “Dad, I don’t know if she’ll be able to make it.”
“Well, she’ll be back in the city, won’t she?”
George sounds disappointed at the mere suggestion that Leighton won’t be attending, and Tatum doesn’t know what the fuck she’s thinking when she agrees with him. She’s so fucking stupid.
“She should be,” she tells him, which isn’t a lie, not really. “I’ll see if she’s around, alright?”
That seems to make him happy, at least, and it isn’t until they hang up that Tatum realizes she has some serious grovelling to do.
There’s no way she’ll ruin her dad’s birthday if she can help it.
(And she wouldn’t mind getting a chance to set the record straight with Leighton, either.)
——
“Sorry, I know it’s kind of weird of me to do this.”
Whitney’s the only one of Leighton’s friends that Tatum peripherally knows. She doesn’t usually associate with freshmen, but they’re both athlete reps for their respective sports, and they’ve attended the same student-athlete banquet and a couple of joint NIL info sessions over the past year, so it feels slightly more natural to approach her with this than if she’d gone to someone like Kimberly, who she doesn’t know at all.
She shoots her shot when she spots her in the dining hall, a place she usually tries to avoid. By some miracle, Leighton isn’t with her, so she pretty much follows her out of the building and stops her on the walk over to the freshmen dorms.
“What the hell do you want?”
“You’re going to think I’m insane,” she says, which makes Whitney crack a smile.
“I already thought you were insane before. Who the fuck breaks up with someone like Leighton?”
Tatum stares at her, dumbfounded. “I didn’t— we— what?”
It’s rare for her to be rendered speechless. There’s just no good reason for Leighton to lie about the fact that she dumped her, not the other way around. It’s shocking enough to rattle her.
“Never mind,” Whitney says, looking around the quad. “I can’t be seen fraternizing with the enemy. What do you want?”
“I need to talk to Leighton. Before I do, I just wanted to check if you knew whether she’d be open to that.”
Whitney rolls her eyes. “I don’t think you’re blocked on TikTok anymore if that helps.”
She raises her eyebrows and nods. That’s not something she realized had happened in the first place.
“And she’ll let me in if I come over?”
“How the fuck would I know?” Whitney snaps, which Tatum thinks is fair enough. Hell, if one of her friend’s exes approached her like this, she wouldn’t be nearly as gracious as Whitney is being. She motions towards the dorms. “Just go over there and try. I gotta get to the chem lab.”
She watches Whitney walk off with more questions than she had before.
— —
Bela opens the door when she knocks, just kind of stares at her with her mouth agape, and she hears Leighton yell, “Tell Frude we’ll be late for the stupid floor meeting, okay, I need a minute to do my hair.”
It’s kind of cute.
(Fuck, she’s missed her. This feels like the worst possible time to realize that.)
She doesn’t really want to say anything and alert Leighton to her presence, so she raises an eyebrow at Bela and shoots her a grateful look when the other girl motions for her to come inside.
Bela still glares back at her, shouts, “I’ll be right back, I hear there’s a shirtless basketball team photo being taken in the quad,” in the direction of her room and walks out the door.
(She’s pretty sure she heard her say, “I’m watching you,” in a quiet but weirdly menacing voice, which seems a little dramatic, but then again Bela does seem to be eccentric on a good day.)
Tatum kind of wishes she wasn’t this fucking nervous to speak to Leighton. She gives herself a moment to take a deep breath, then walks over to her door and knocks, even though it’s slightly ajar.
“Since when does anyone in this fucking suite knock,” she hears Leighton say under her breath, coming over to open the door further.
The first thing she sees when they’re face to face is the curling iron in Leighton’s hand, which she’s clutching like a weapon. Then there’s the cute, preppy cardigan she’s in, and if the situation were different, she’d probably ask Leighton where she got the little amethyst earrings she’s wearing.
Leighton looks angry, and Tatum knows she needs to say something before the other blonde snaps at her. (If their roles were reversed, she’d definitely snap at Leighton.)
“Hey,” she tries, which gets Leighton to frown at her. She puts the curling iron down and crosses her arms in front of her chest.
Honestly, Tatum isn’t even sure what to say to her. She usually has a lot more game than this. She didn’t think she’d even get this far.
“Bela let me in.”
“I assumed.”
They fall into awkward silence, which Tatum isn’t sure what to do with. How the fuck do people deal with this? She brushes some hair behind her ear and smiles at Leighton, hoping for a reaction that doesn’t materialize.
“I didn’t mean to crash your exciting floor meeting plans for the day,” she jokes, except it comes out all judgmental. She always ends up sounding judgy when she’s nervous and over-compensating. It’s a habit she should probably work a little harder to break.
Leighton doesn’t really react, just nods and looks down at her feet.
“So what did you come here for?” she asks quietly.
“I need a favor.”
Leighton just looks at her dubiously. “You’re kidding, right? What in the world makes you think I would do you a favor?” Tatum shrugs her shoulder. “Tatum, this is ridiculous, even for you.”
What does that mean? She’s not in a position to argue right now, but she makes a mental note to ask about that later.
“You’re the only one who can help me with this,” she explains. “My dad’s having this big birthday get-together out on Long Island next weekend, and he asked if you’d be there, because…”
They look at each other for a moment, and Tatum can tell Leighton’s at least considering going. She doesn’t know why she can even tell.
“Because?”
“I never got around to telling him we stopped seeing each other.”
Leighton laughs — a real, full-belly laugh that has her let out what Tatum knows she thinks is an unattractive snort — and Tatum’s not sure if that’s gonna help her case. She’s not saying anything, is just kind of shaking her head at her as she laughs, and it’s a little daunting.
Unnerved by the weirdness of the whole situation, Tatum shoots her shot.
“So are you busy next weekend?”
“Oh my god, are you actually asking me out right now?”
“No,” Tatum shakes her head. “I’m asking you to enjoy lovely complimentary food and plenty of drinks in exchange for pretending not to hate me for a couple of hours. That’s all.”
Leighton shakes her head in what looks like disbelief, though there’s also still a smile on her lips. Tatum’s kind of glad the other girl hasn’t asked her why she hasn’t told her father they broke up yet. Chances are if anyone gets what it’s like not wanting to disappoint a parent, it’s her.
“It would reflect really poorly on me if I said yes.”
She can’t argue with that, so she doesn’t. She shrugs at Leighton and nods, and for some reason this whole conversation is already going a lot better than she thought it would. Finally, Leighton sighs and tilts her head just a bit, a calculating look on her face.
“My therapist’s gonna have a fucking field day when she hears about this.”
Tatum feels the tension in her shoulders drain from her body. Thank god. She smiles at Leighton and stops short of stepping closer to hug her.
“I’ll owe you one,” she says, still smiling. “Or three.”
Leighton rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, too.
“Try five.”
——
She picks Leighton up in her car, because the Murrays have apparently retreated to Montauk for the summer, leaving Leighton behind in the city where driving isn’t really a necessity.
When she pulls up in front of the townhouse, the girl’s wearing a pretty beige blazer and loose-fitting matching pants, and her blonde hair is up in an elaborate braid. She’s wearing minimal makeup, and there’s a pair of shades on her head, keeping a strand of hair back. She looks amazing, and Tatum doesn’t want to be gross and comment on it, but she knows Leighton catches her staring at her anyway because she’s smirking when their eyes meet.
There’s a small duffel bag at her feet, and Tatum raises her brow at her when she throws it in the backseat of the car.
“I wasn’t sure if there would be swimming,” she clarifies, sliding into the passenger seat. “I assume there’s water around.”
Tatum laughs, nods, and types her address into Maps so she can turn right back around. “Yes, there’s definitely water around.”
What she isn’t saying is that the bag is obviously too big to just hold a swimsuit. It’s an overnight bag, and Tatum thinks it’s incredibly relatable for Leighton to be planning for all possible outcomes to the night.
It also makes her wonder if the odds of turning this into more than just a casual afternoon of pretending are better than she previously thought. Here’s hoping.
Leighton is back to being confident and sarcastic today, no more nerves and vulnerability to be seen, which Tatum is kind of relieved about. She makes at least four off-the-cuff remarks about how Long Island wasn’t exactly on her bucket list for the summer during the forty minutes it takes them to reach her parents' house. Tatum just rolls her eyes and laughs them off.
The drive passes without incident and they stick to safe topics — finals, how glad Leighton is to be back in the city for the summer, and, oddly enough, zodiac signs. Leighton mentions she doesn’t find it particularly surprising that Tatum’s dad is a Taurus, and it kind of turns into a whole thing.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m just saying, he acts like a Taurus.”
Tatum laughs.
“Do you have a problem with Tauruses?”
Leighton stares at her. “Hold on, when’s your birthday again?”
She takes her eyes off the road for just a second to watch Leighton’s face when she says, “May 19th.”
As expected, watching her put two and two together is hilarious.
“Okay, that explains so much, actually.”
Tatum laughs out loud. Leighton’s so ridiculous sometimes, but she’s also enjoying this conversation way too much to put an end to it.
“That’s rich, coming from the most stereotypical Scorpio sun I’ve ever met.”
Leighton gasps, then pulls her shades down over her eyes and pretends to give Tatum the cold shoulder. She gives her that smile that’s so happy, it’s a little contagious, and Tatum forces herself to keep her eyes on the road.
Tatum’s so fucking fucked, it’s not even funny.
——
“You grew up here?”
They’re outside, standing near the bar that’s been set up out by the veranda. Tatum’s cautiously optimistic this might all go okay, considering the drive up here wasn’t even particularly painful or awkward.
Then again, they haven’t actually had to pretend to be anything they’re not yet. Her dad’s nowhere to be seen, probably busy doing a last minute meat inventory for the barbecue before most of the guests arrive, and Tatum didn’t feel like seeking him out just yet. If anything, she figured they could probably use this time to get a drink before everything gets a little crazy.
Leighton’s just looking around, taking in her surroundings, and Tatum’s about to offer her a drink in order to get her to actually talk to her when she grabs her by the wrist and drags her behind a large tree a few steps away. It happens so quickly, Tatum doesn’t even have time to ask her what the hell she’s doing.
“Um. Why is my dad here?”
Leighton’s peering through some of the thinner branches, staring at the patio door, where none other than Henry Murray is smiling and chatting away to a pretty brunette his age; she’s guessing his wife.
When Tatum leans forward to get a better look, Leighton squeezes her wrist hard enough to hurt and pulls her towards her.
“He’ll see us! Stay back,” she chastises. Tatum struggles not to laugh at how intense Leighton’s being if she’s being honest. “What is he doing here? Why the hell did they not tell me they were coming?”
“I don’t know, I guess he’s friends with my dad?” Tatum shrugs, looking back over at Leighton’s parents. Leighton just glares at her and pulls her closer, though it’s pretty obvious she’s doing it so they’re more well hidden. “You do realize they can see us anyway, right? It’s not a particularly wide tree.”
Leighton rolls her eyes. “Just stay close. That way, at least they’ll think we’re just making out.”
“Because that’s so much better than getting caught hiding from your parents.”
“Exactly.”
Tatum grins at her, and they really are close enough to kiss now, so she leans back a bit to get out of her personal space. Leighton’s the one doing her a favor here; she’s not gonna push her luck and do something stupid like kiss her.
“Why do you even care if he’s here?”
Leighton sighs, and Tatum can tell she’s actually a little rattled, so she grabs her hand and squeezes reassuringly. It’s the least she can do, considering she’s the reason she’s in this situation in the first place. If the touching bothers Leighton, she doesn’t let on.
It’s reassuring to think she’s not physically repulsed by her, at least.
“He, um, I—,” Leighton brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. If Tatum didn’t know better, she’d say she almost looks a little sheepish. “I actually never told him we broke up. So…”
Tatum can’t help it; she starts laughing, and only realizes how loud she’s being when Leighton shushes her and covers her mouth with her hand.
“I’m sorry, but you have to admit this is hilarious.”
Leighton glares at her, then glances back over to where her parents are standing, chatting to some old guy. She grabs Tatum’s hand and motions for her to come with her.
“Let’s get a drink before they spot us,” she says, dragging her over to the table of refreshments. “And then I guess you’re gonna have to meet my mother.”
Well. Tatum’s pretty sure she owes her that much, at least.
——
Tatum realizes she doesn’t actually know much about Leighton’s relationship with her mom when Henry waves them over and Leighton instantly tenses up.
“We definitely should’ve pre-gamed for this,” she mutters under her breath, then tips back her glass of Prosecco and sets the empty glass down on a tray at the bar. “My mom’s a lot, just so you know.”
Tatum raises her brow and smiles. “I’ve seen your dad order a martini, remember? It can’t be much worse than that.”
But Leighton seems to disagree, judging by the way she grabs onto Tatum’s wrist, the one in which she’s holding her drink, and just says, “Drink up,” under her breath.
“Girls!” Leighton’s dad, who Tatum has been told to call Henry, says when they get close enough to greet. “Don’t think we didn’t see you hiding out back there.” He’s smiling, while Leighton just looks uncomfortable, so Tatum squeezes her hand as she smiles back at Henry. “Young love is just so precious, right, honey?”
Despite all the weird things at play, if there’s one thing Tatum knows about herself, it’s that she’s great with parents. So she lets go of Leighton’s hand and moves to throw her arms around Henry enthusiastically.
“It’s so great to see you! I had no idea you’d be here,” which, in fairness, she didn’t. It’s not like she planned this.
“And miss a chance to catch up with my daughter and her beautiful girlfriend? When your dad mentioned you’d both be here, we decided to drive down from Montauk for the day.” He smiles at her, then proceeds to make a really bad joke about the whole lifelong Essex bond thing he seems to be obsessed with.
Dad jokes will never be funny, but Tatum doesn’t roll her eyes despite feeling tempted, just smiles and nods at Henry and looks over to her left, where Leighton is talking to her mother under her breath.
“Where are my manners? Tatum, this is my other half, Michelle. Mimi, this is Tatum.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Tatum says, shaking her hand. Then she says, “Leighton’s told me so much about you,” which is a total lie.
Leighton’s mom kind of gives her this not-so-subtle once-over before she nods her approval.
“You know, Henry said you were gorgeous but he didn’t quite do you justice.”
Next to her, Leighton groans quietly and puts an arm around her. Tatum’s all too familiar with this level of family-appropriate PDA, so she leans into the embrace and smiles at Leighton’s mother.
“This is great, isn’t it,” Leighton’s dad exclaims, smiling. “We’ll have to get a picture together once your dad is done beating the burgers to death in there.”
Leighton squeezes her hip as if to tell her to stay out of this. It’s Leighton’s parents, anyway, so she’s happy to let her take the lead; she’ll just stand here for a little while longer and let them talk.
“You should’ve brought Nico to make this full family affair even weirder.”
That seems to set Leighton’s mother off. “You know, he’s bringing his new girlfriend to the beach house next week,” she says, rolling her eyes. Then she turns to Tatum, a weird little smile on her face. “You’re a lot prettier than her.”
Tatum laughs, caught off guard. “Thanks?”
“Ignore her,” Leighton sighs. “She’s always hated Nico’s girlfriends because she wants to keep him all to herself.”
“Leighton!” Her mother exclaims, which notably means she doesn’t actually deny anything. “I’m merely pointing out that he could do better,” she motions to Tatum. “Like you have.”
“God, mom, please,” Leighton says. “I’m pretty sure Tatum has better things to do than listen to you talk about how attractive you think she is.”
Tatum laughs to ease the tension, then kisses Leighton’s cheek, because she kind of thinks they need to sell this dynamic better. It certainly can’t hurt.
“I really don’t mind,” she says, and Leighton grins at her, rolling her eyes.
“Of course you don’t.”
It almost feels normal. If she tries hard enough, it’s pretty easy to pretend this really is just an awkward first encounter with her girlfriend’s mother.
“Guys, I’m gonna have to steal Leighton away for a moment, I promised my dad I’d show her around the house.”
Both Murrays nod and motion for them to leave, and Leighton moves to grab her hand so they can walk off.
“Thank fucking god that’s over,” she whispers as they make their way over to the house. “Sorry about my mom.”
Tatum grins at her. “Your dad is sweet.”
“So you agree my mother is a miserable bitch? Good.”
“Well, let’s just say I get the feeling you didn’t get the attitude from your dad.”
Leighton pushes at her shoulder, but she’s also smiling, so Tatum knows she’s not imagining how well this is actually going.
——
“Was showing me the house just an excuse to get me alone?”
Tatum looks back at Leighton, who’s standing in the doorway of her teenage bedroom, taking it all in. She really did mean to show her the rest of the house, but she wanted to come up here to grab a hair tie, and Leighton didn’t seem to care about the slight change in plans.
Really, it was more of an excuse to get away from Leighton’s parents and keeping up appearances; a quick moment alone to debrief and prepare for the rest of the night. But she takes Leighton in, sees the little smirk on her lips, and because today’s been a success so far, she figures she’ll see how Leighton will react to a little bit of friendly flirting. She puts a hand on her hip and smirks at her.
“What, like I’d need an excuse?”
Leighton gives her a calculating look, then licks her lips and closes the door behind her. She takes a couple of steps towards her, then reaches for her hips and Tatum’s seen Leighton like this enough times to know she’s about to kiss her. (Not that it takes a lot of prior experience to read into the bedroom eyes she’s got going on, but you know.)
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” She asks, because she wants her to be sure. She’d like to hear that before they make any of this worse, somehow.
Leighton smirks at her and nods. “Are you seeing anyone?”
She shakes her head instinctively. If she’s being honest, she hasn’t even tried to meet anyone else since their whole thing blew up. Mainly because of finals and tennis taking up most of her time, but she also just wasn’t in the mood.
It comes out sounding pointed when she looks back at Leighton and says, “Are you?”
People talk, and she’s well-connected within the Essex queer community; of course she heard about Leighton and Alicia hooking up again. She doesn’t know if that’s still happening, or if it’s serious at all, but she’s pretty sure it warrants the question. The timing of it all was a little suspicious. She’s not not worried about that if she’s being honest with herself.
Leighton shrugs, leaning forward so their lips are almost brushing. “Not anymore.”
That’s good enough for Tatum — for now anyway. She closes the distance between them and whines into her mouth when Leighton immediately maneuvers them around until she’s got her pinned against the door. This was never their problem, and it’s easy to forego talking in favor of kissing.
“Leight,” she tries in between kisses, but it’s difficult to stop now that she knows it’s an option. She kisses her again and grabs her hips firmly in order to get a chance to move away slightly. “Leighton, we need to go back outside.”
Leighton actually groans when her words register, and Tatum thinks that’s fucking hilarious. She’s adorable when she gets like this. And she knew she wouldn’t just give up, either, because of course Leighton immediately reaches up to palm her breast through her dress, using Tatum’s momentary distraction to get another kiss out of her.
One of them needs to be responsible here, and she figures since this is her house, it may as well be her.
“If we don’t go back down right now, your parents will know exactly why we were gone.”
Leighton frowns, clearly appalled at the thought, but she also takes a step back, so at least her strategy worked.
They straighten out their clothes, and then when she looks back at her as she’s opening the door, Leighton says, “Hey, this doesn’t have to change anything, right?”
Tatum swallows hard, but she’ll take what she can get for now. This truce is already a lot more than she expected out of today.
“We’ll talk later, okay?”
Leighton smiles, brief but wide, and nods.
At least there’s that.
——
“So where does one go on dates these days around Essex? Enlighten us old people.”
They’re talking to all three of their parents at once, which is proving to be quite the performance. Not because it’s particularly hard to keep an arm around Leighton and act like she likes her (she does) but because their parents are all very… intense. Tatum loves her dad, but having two people who match him in energy around interrogating them doesn't exactly make for a chill Saturday afternoon.
It’s slowly driving her a little crazy.
“You know, nothing particularly exciting,” Tatum tells her dad. She takes a bite of her salad and looks over at Leighton. “I don’t really know if we have a favorite date spot, do we?”
Just from the glint in her eye when their eyes briefly meet, Tatum can tell Leighton wants to say something dirty, but instead, she solemnly shakes her head and says, “We like to switch it up.”
Tatum’s glad she can mask the snort she lets out behind a cough. They certainly do like to switch things up, but that isn’t really something she wants her father to hear about.
George smiles at Leighton. “My daughter has been suspiciously quiet about—“ he motions between the two of them, “— you two. I had no idea she was capable of keeping things to herself.”
“Dad, please. I told you, it’s been a busy few weeks. I didn’t think I had to text you every time I take my girlfriend out to dinner.”
“She cooks dinner sometimes, too,” Leighton adds, raising a brow at Tatum. She sets a hand on her knee where her dress has left it bare. “I’m a lucky girl.”
Leighton’s dad practically swoons at that, and her mother seems a little zoned out, but George looks absolutely elated.
“Are you sure you’re talking about my Tatum? Honey, I didn’t think you even knew how to turn a stove on.”
“Leighton helped me figure it out,” she improvises, which is obviously not true and gets all four people around her to laugh.
“Now we all know that’s a lie,” Henry laughs, pointing at Leighton. “This one’s entire credit card statement is Postmates and DoorDash.”
“Yeah, babe, if you want to make me look good in front of your dad, you’ll have to come up with a more believable lie.” Leighton says, squeezing her knee for emphasis. “We all know I haven’t set foot in a kitchen since the burned toast incident of 2007.”
She doesn’t even want to know what that’s about. All she wants is to get Leighton to call her babe again.
Michelle finally decides to join the conversation, gives Tatum a stern look and says, “What about that Women’s Center? Leighton mentioned she’s been spending time there when I saw her in April, are you part of all that as well?”
Tatum tenses up, and Leighton immediately shoots her mother a warning look. “No, mom.”
“It was just a question,” her mom interferes. “You mentioned one of your friends was running it, and I just assumed that since you’re… You know… Now… Maybe you meant a different kind of friend.”
“Yeah, because being gay obviously means I have to fuck all of my female friends. Thanks, mom. I appreciate the support.”
Leighton makes a face, and her mother throws her hands up all exasperatedly. Tatum mostly wants to run away and hide, but she makes an effort to smile instead, shaking her head. She can be diplomatic in front of their parents.
“I just thought it was odd you’d spend time in that place,” her mother says, “It doesn’t seem very… You.”
Tatum really just wants to put this topic to bed.
“It’s not really my scene either,” she tells Michelle, who nods in enthusiastic agreement. “I prefer events that aren’t campus sponsored.”
Leighton and her exchange a quick look, and Tatum seriously considers just running away right now.
Their parents launch into a whole side conversation on parties at Essex back in their day, and Leighton leans over to her, whispers, “Way to make sure my mother likes you more than me,” and squeezes her hand.
Tatum shoots her a weak smile.
“Excuse me for a moment,” she says, then walks off towards the house.
——
Look, hear her out.
She’s well aware all of this is really stupid, alright? She knows. It’s stupid and she’s being a brat, and she really isn’t even sure why, except she suddenly feels like asking Leighton to come today was a terrible idea.
They haven’t talked about anything, and with every stupid sarcastic comment Leighton makes and every stupid approving look both of their parents shoot her, she wants her more. It’s totally fucked.
It’s just pissing her off. Leighton’s gorgeous, and funny and for some reason still seems to be into her, if their earlier kisses are to be believed. All of that is true, and yet she somehow managed to completely blow any chance she may have had at keeping her around at that stupid fucking party a few weeks ago.
She doesn’t think she’s thinking clearly. She’s hungry, because George’s just been handing out little plates of finger food all afternoon, and she’s had a glass or three of Prosecco, too, so her head feels a little funny.
Maybe what she really needs to do is eat something slightly more substantial and get Leighton alone. Honestly, if it wasn’t for their fucking parents always hovering nearby, she probably would have apologized to Leighton already; she’s not usually this much of a coward.
She looks at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, splashes the inside of her wrists with cold water and straightens out her hair.
——
She finds Leighton at the bar, and she nods at her when the other blonde motions at the bottle of Prosecco. She’d love another glass.
“You okay?” Leighton asks quietly when she hands her the glass, even though their parents aren’t nearly close enough to overhear them. She appreciates the concern in her voice anyway. “Don’t let them get to you.”
“I’m fine,” Tatum says, lifting the glass to her lips. “Just need to get some food in me soon or I’ll definitely get too drunk to keep impressing your parents.”
Leighton smiles, reaches for her hand. “Pretty sure they’d find that endearing, too.”
She wants to say something that isn’t just another shallow joke about the fact that their parents are clearly vibing and excited to see them together and wedding planning already, but right now doesn’t seem like the time. She grabs Leighton’s hand, starts walking in the direction of the grill, where her father is finally having people gather around for real food.
“Food first. You can get me drunk after.”
George waves at her, and then she sees Henry next to him, looking at the two of them as they approach like he’s trying to set a wedding date, or something.
“Actually, maybe you can kill me first.”
——
She’s tipsy, bordering on drunk, and they’re cuddled up on the porch swing, mainly because that’ll keep their parents away for a while. They sat down a couple of minutes ago, and every now and then her dad will look over at them and wink at her, which Tatum thinks is proof she needs to stop talking to him about her love life once and for all. It’s just too much.
At least she gets to spend time with Leighton, who’s got her legs drawn up a little, her knees resting over Tatum’s thigh, her head leaning on her shoulder. She feels more normal now that she’s had, you know, dinner, and the Prosecco certainly isn’t hurting, either.
They’re talking in hushed whispers, just kind of staring out at the little groups of people scattered around the backyard, content to just sit here and take a little break from polite conversation with other partygoers. The sun’s almost gone, and with it, their patience for over-enthused small talk with George, Henry and his wife, who Tatum will admit is too much, just like Leighton had previously suggested.
And because it’s kind of been a good day despite everything, Tatum plays with the fabric of Leighton’s shirt and says, “Why didn’t you just tell your dad what really happened?”
Leighton shrugs. “Why didn’t you?”
Tatum grins at her, raising her glass in a silent toast.
“I asked you first.”
Leighton groans, grabs the glass from her hand and says, “Give me some of that.” Then she sits up a little straighter and looks at Tatum all shy. “I just knew how much he liked you. I didn’t want him to worry.”
“Your dad likes me?” Tatum deadpans. “I had no idea.”
“Please. George told me where to find the light switches downstairs earlier in case I get lost in the middle of the night.”
“He has more game than me,” Tatum laughs. “I couldn’t even figure out how to talk to you without using this stupid party as an excuse.”
“It wasn’t stupid,” Leighton says. Her eyes flick over to meet Tatum’s and she smiles, teeth bared. “I mean, maybe for, like, gen pop…”
She laughs and Leighton kisses her cheek, and Tatum smiles back at her like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
“I’m sorry, you know,” she says, reaches over to interlace her fingers with Leighton’s. “I was a huge bitch at that party.”
Leighton just shrugs.
“And I should’ve apologized earlier. I was jealous, and uncomfortable, but that’s no excuse.”
“Well, I probably could’ve been a little nicer about it all.”
They both could’ve handled things better, is the point. The fact that they didn’t and somehow still ended up here bodes well, Tatum thinks.
“It’s none of my business, but… Alicia…”
Leighton shakes her head slowly. “That’s over.”
She’d be lying if that didn’t feel reassuring to hear, but it’s also not really much of an explanation for anything.
Leighton knocks back the rest of the drink they’re sharing and sighs like she doesn’t really want to be talking about this.
“I think a part of me thought maybe the whole point of coming out in the first place was to get her back,” she finally says quietly. “Don’t give me that look, I know exactly how pathetic that must sound to you.”
Pathetic isn’t really the word that comes to mind for Tatum. It makes sense, really, but it makes her feel bad for Leighton, too, so she puts an arm around her.
“Let’s not pretend like I haven’t also done my fair share of incredibly stupid things in the name of love.” Leighton tenses at the mention of love, so she quickly adds, “Or infatuation.”
They share a smile, and Leighton yawns. It’s not even ten o clock at night when Tatum checks her phone for the time but she can tell the party is dying down, so chances are now would be a good time to sneak away.
“Let’s go to bed,” she says. Leighton instantly looks more alert again. Neither of them is interested in pretending she isn’t gonna spend the night.
“I feel like you’re usually more creative than that line. I think I should make you work for it a little harder.”
“Oh, please,” Tatum rolls her eyes. “Because playing nice with your parents all day wasn’t hard enough?”
Leighton doesn’t say anything, but she does get up and reach for Tatum’s hand.
“We should say goodbye to them before we go upstairs,” she tells her, and then notices Leighton rolls her eyes.
“Is hearing how much my dad loves you some sort of weird, twisted foreplay for you?”
She’s mostly joking when she purses her lips, pretending to think about it, and says, “It could be if you ask nicely.”
Leighton laughs, and making her laugh is almost as good as the other sounds she plans to get out of her once they’re alone.
——
She wakes up the next morning because someone’s on top of her, dragging a hand down her chest. Her muscles are a little achy from last night, and she’s totally naked under the sheets, and when she blinks open her eyes, Leighton’s immediately kissing her.
“No,” Leighton says when she tries to say something. “It’s too early for talking.”
Tatum smiles, grabs Leighton’s hips under the covers and lies back against the pillows. “Is it?”
“Yeah,” Leighton breathes, then shifts her weight so she can straddle her properly instead of just being draped all over her. “Come on, baby, please.”
A minute later, when Leighton’s kissing her way down Tatum’s neck, she lets out a gasp and immediately bites her lip. The sun is already up, shining through the gaps in her slatted blinds, so there’s no way they should be making any sort of noise that might give them away.
“We have to be quiet. My dad’s probably up already.”
Leighton kisses her to shut her up.
“If you mention your dad again when I’m naked and on top of you, I’m never talking to you again.”
Tatum lets out a laugh, because Leighton does not look like she’s kidding, then buries her face against her neck.
She’s pretty sure they both stopped pretending a long time ago.