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The First Senior Year Party
There's a window open in the living room, so even out on the porch Beca and Chloe can hear the thump-thump of the music, the rumble of voices, and (somewhat inevitably) the overenthusiastic singing-along.
Beca's rambling voice is a little louder, a little faster than her sober one.
“I mean I'm not sad, but that makes me a bit sad, is that ridiculous? I feel like I should be sad but I guess it was not working out even more than I realised. God, I'm a terrible person. More than two years and I can't even be properly sad for him. Fucking Jesse and his fucking eyes and his fucking movies. Fuck, he deserved so much better than me.”
She tries to run her hands through her hair but one gets caught in a stubborn tangle. The front door suddenly clangs open, and a man (a new High Note?) streams out of the house, stumbling past them and across the lawn, fighting gravity the whole way and laughing at himself when he nearly trips over his own feet. Beca laughs too, but then her eyes start to shine slightly more than usual as she looks across at Chloe in the dusky darkness.
“I love him, you know, of course I do, but I guess I was never in love with him, and I think he maybe thought that I was? And I didn't realise that that was happening, like at all. Until it was way too late. I feel like a terrible, terrible person. Am I Chlo? Fuck, I'm horrible aren't I? Fuck. Fuck.”
Chloe clambers up, wobbling, to place herself behind Beca on the porch step, and resumes where Beca left off with her tangled hair, working her fingers slowly through the knots.
“Beca Mitchell, you're being ridiculous, of course I don't think that. You're not. You're like, the greatest. And this stuff is just...really fucking complicated. Think about it, if you're not in love with him, then the kindest thing to do is to let him find someone who is, right? And to let yourself find someone to actually fall in love with. I mean, if you want to, or course. But you totally should. You deserve that. Because you're, like, Beca Mitchell, and she's a pretty fucking cool chick, and I just want her to be really happy you know? It's going to be okay Beca. I know it. Because I'm always right but especially because I am even more always right when I'm drunk.”
“And you're drunk right now?”
“Yep.”
Beca can't help but smile slightly, watching as the street lights along the side of the lake road flicker on in the semi-darkness, Chloe's fingertips tingling in her hair. She takes another long drink from the wine bottle next to her and looks up.
“I can see Lyra, look Chlo.” She points up at the constellation with the neck of the bottle before passing it back for Chloe to take a drink from. “The sky's pretty tonight.”
“Yeah, it is.”
The Christmas Party
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
Beca's lightly hitting Chloe's cheeks to the rhythm of Call Me Maybe, which is playing loudly in the next room.
“Stop hitting me!”
“I'm not.”
“Beca Mitchell.”
Beca cackles and grabs one of Chloe's hands before attempting to resume the same rhythm as before.
“Stop hitting yourself Chlo. Stop hitting yourself. Chloe. Chloe. Stop hitting yourself.”
Chloe grabs Beca's side suddenly with her free hand, and Beca squeals and tries to jerk away.
“Okay okay okay, no tickling, please no tickling!”
Chloe only tickles harder and Beca's body becomes like jelly as she tries to squirm away.
“HELP!! Chlo stop! Help, Chloe is...ahhh, she's murdering me!”
When Stacie and Emily pop their heads around the door, Beca is on her knees on the floor and Chloe relents, a wicked grin on her face as she falls onto the carpet next to Beca. One look at each other is enough, and they fall into hysterical snorts of laughter.
“Now, now children. Behave!” Stacie calls as she moves back towards the kitchen, Emily trailing behind, giggling.
When their laughter finally subsides, they've both slipped down so that they're lying on their backs, side by side on the rug.
“You're the worst, by the way. I hate you.” Beca prods Chloe's side to emphasise the point.
“You started it. And you don't hate me. So there. I can see right through you, Beca Mitchell. You're like...a see-through thing that I would be able to think of an example of if I wasn't way too drunk to, like, exist right now.”
“A window?”
“Hmm, maybe. Or...an invisible person. You know, like that man with the face. You know who I mean. Kevin Bacon! Or, or, or a pair of glasses. Oh, a Tupperware!”
Beca's splutter of laughter sets Chloe off again, and when Stacie comes back to deposit another Bacardi and Coke next to each of them, Chloe's snorting and holding her belly, and tears are streaming down Beca's cheeks. All Stacie catches is “No, you're Kevin Bacon,” as she sidles back out of the room and leaves them to it.
The End of Exams Party
“It's like we've just dashed through it, you know? Like, how did that all happen so fucking fast? And now I'm looking back and thinking how much time I've wasted, if only I'd known how much I'd love all you guys from the beginning, or if we'd always been best friends. Maybe it could have been different. Like, even better. Is that ridiculous?”
They're both curled up in the corner of a sofa, Beca's body sort of keeling over into Chloe's side. A Treble sleeps across the rest of the space, still grasping onto the empty beer can in his hand as it drapes across the floor.
“Of course not Beca. Fuck, Beca, I stayed for three extra years because I couldn't let go of that feeling of not having done it properly...or enough yet! Jesus, at least you're just thinking it and not actually doing it, like a genuine crazy person.”
Someone's taken over the playlist Beca made, so that the Spice Girls plays loudly in the next room, and there are shrieks as several of the Bellas start to sing along.
“Fuck I am too drunk for this. You are making me feel all melancholy and shit. Stop it Chloe Beale.”
Beca throws her head back against the back of the sofa and taps at Chloe's cheek weakly with the back of her hand.
“I am? You bought it up Beca Mitchell.” She grabs Beca's hand away from her face and places her recently filled yellow cup into it instead. “You know you're a sap when you've had too many, and you are deep, deep, full in sap mode right now. You are a drunken sad sack and you only have yourself to blame.”
Chloe's grinning at her, prods her once in the chest.
“Ugh and you love it, don't you? You massive weirdo.” Beca takes a long drink.
“I always love you but yes. You are fucking adorable in sap mode, Beca Mitchell. And you tell me all your secrets and it's awesome. Hilariously adorably awesome and you make that pouty face that is just like, my favourite, of all the things.” She puts her hands on Beca's cheeks to force the pout to make an appearance, giggles as Beca swats her away dramatically. “And it's when I feel closest to you, maybe.”
“Stop it, you're making it worse. I'm not ready to leave yet. That's it, I'm going to pull a Chloe and stay some more, it's decided.”
This time she pulls the pouty face all on her own, pressing a little harder into Chloe's side.
“Beca you already passed all your exams. It's too late to pull a Chloe and I'm not going to mention that phrasing by the way, Beca Mitchell, you massive butt.”
“I haven't done all the things I need to do yet. Ugh. I'm sorry I've wasted so much of this year being a little shit. If I'd always realised how important you are, and properly appreciated it...I just feel like I've taken for granted four years with the most incredible person. Because you're like, fucking awesome, you know, Chlo. I've had four years with you that were amazing and I'm clinging onto it and I feel nostalgic for it already and it's not even really over yet, you know? It's like all the memories have this stupid sad haze over them now I know how different everything's going to be so soon.”
Beca passes the cup back to Chloe and scrunches her hands into fists over her eyes. “Ugh so I'm going to do that thing that makes you squeal where I reference a film, but you know, like, I think that Sadness has been going around and touching all my yellow memories. All the joy ones. That adorable little shit. She's in my head doing weird stuff and giving me feelings and nostalgia and stuff.”
Chloe feels like she wants to both laugh and cry for a moment. She holds both in.
“She really is fucking adorable, isn't she?” She says instead. “Holy shit, Beca will you dress as Sadness at Halloween for me?”
She flings herself forward with excitement, and Beca immediately follows.
“Shit. YES. Oh my God, and you can be Joy. Fuck yes. That is fucking perfect. Oh man. Yes. Yes.” Beca grins at her, grips onto her forearms with both hands. Chloe grins back. She's never quite discovered how to do anything else in response to Beca's smiles, after all.
They both sink slowly back into the sofa and Chloe settles her head onto Beca's shoulder, pulling her knees up close. She can tell from Beca's sudden quietness that they've both realised but what if we're not together at Halloween?
“I don't want this to end, Chlo. It's so great, what we have here. Don't you think?”
“Yeah it really is pretty fucking great, Beca.”
The thud of the music is a deep bass that's making a picture rattle in it's frame, but Beca can't work out what song it is until she hears Flo and Stacie singing along. She turns and studies Chloe's profile. Her eyes are closed and her head's slightly bobbing to the beat, but it's a little out of time and that's how Beca knows she's really drunk.
“I want to just pause time for a little while whilst I'm really appreciating it. I just want to soak it all up for a little while, is that too much to ask? I really just want to stay here with you for a little while, Chlo.”
“We can do that.”
The We-Won-Worlds Party
The noise from the party has gradually retreated since they've moved outside, Chloe pulling Beca with one hand, grasping a full bottle of wine in the other, as they stumble together onto the lawn in front of the Bella house.
Beca's staring out at the lake, into the darkness that's been gradually lifting as the house behind them got quieter and quieter. Now everything is peaceful and there's a chill in the air that makes a shiver flutter down Beca's spine. Chloe's laying on the grass, back slowly soaking up the cool dew, one hand splayed out next to the wine bottle they've been sharing, and Beca reaches out to it without thinking. The hand (warm and safe and calming) grasps back onto hers firmly, and Beca traces her fingertips over chipped nail polish she'd helped apply hours earlier.
Chloe feels grass tickling her neck as she turns her head slightly until she can make eye contact with Beca.
“I'm overwhelmed by you sometimes, you know.”
Beca's mouth opens to respond, but it takes her a minute before she can coax some words out.
“You...you are? What do you mean?”
“You make me feel so much. I don't know whether I love it or hate it. Maybe it's both.”
The hand grasps tighter.
“Chloe, what...?”
“Can I say something, to you?”
Chloe lets go of her hand to sit up suddenly, and Beca moves with her until they are both sat cross-legged, facing each other. There's a sudden sincerity in Chloe's voice that moves beyond her alcohol-honesty.
“I want to say something to you. It's important.”
“Of course, Chloe.”
Beca's voice is timid, barely above a whisper. Her hands shake slightly so she grips them firmly around her ankles. Chloe looks at Beca intently for a second, face unreadable before she takes a deep breath and starts to speak. There are sparkles of dew caught in the frizzy curls around her forehead.
“I was pretty sure I'd never be brave or stupid enough to say these things to you, but then there got to a point where I didn't just...hazily love you in the background any more. It wasn't just a thing that was there and made me smile without realising why. Because now it's become this crazy thing that's like, taken over my whole body, and that's why I don't know whether I like it, Beca, because it feels so good, but it's like I've been consumed, and it's so much that it's too hard hold it in. And I can't pretend to just be your friend any more. It's just got so hard. I think that maybe I can't not tell you that I love you any more. I thought one day I'd be brave enough to say that. But I'm not brave right now, by the way, I'm actually really terrified and I've kind of never felt less brave. But I'm so in love with you that it won't stay inside me any more. I'm not making a choice to say these things to you, Beca, I just...I can't not say them any more, you know? So if you could forgive me for that, that'd be...cool. Please.”
The wine bottle gets knocked over as Beca's body jumps across the space they'd left between them on the grass. (They'd only drunk a third so it glugs dramatically onto the ground).
Now she's kneeling in a mixture of early-morning dew and puddled white wine. The smell of it (the cool air, the damp ground, the sticky wine) is pungent as Beca's hands rest around either side of Chloe's cheeks. The sun has been threatening to peek up from the horizon for a while now, and the water of the lake is tinged with pink as the birds react noisily to the almost-daytime.
“Chloe.”
Beca breathes the name in a way Chloe's never heard it said before, and it makes her heart leap. Chloe's hands move around to grasp at the back of Beca's shirt, holding on, and though the fabric is damp and cold she can feel the warmth of Beca's skin breaking through.
“Chloe you can kiss me. If you want.”
Chloe just stares into Beca's eyes.
“I want you to kiss me Chloe. Please.”
“But do you...feel the same? I can't do this unless you feel the same. It already hurts so bad Beca.”
“I feel the same Chloe. God. I really feel the same.”
So Chloe kisses her, and Beca kisses back, and they lay in the dew until the sun rises enough to burn it away.
The Final University House Party
“You're ridiculous.”
“No, you're ridiculous.”
“Shut up.”
“No you shut up.”
“Fucking hell, you are an actual child Beca Mitchell.”
“Nope.”
“Yep.”
“Nope.”
“Yep.”
“Nuhuh.”
“Yuhuh.”
“Nu-”
“Holy sex on a cracker, you two, will you just quit with the freakish flirting and make out already, jeez. You're making me feel like I should feel uncomfortable. I'm not, because I have a well-cushioned ass that always brings a certain level of comfort, but your weird antics are making it borderline and I'm not cool with that.”
Beca turns her head from where it's rested in Chloe's lap to register Amy and the rest of the Bellas, who are draped around the rest of the furniture in the room, in various stages between drunk and wasted. Emily's fast asleep in the armchair and the stack of used plastic cups, carefully arranged on the coffee table, reaches several feet into the air. Then she looks at Chloe, who's tapping out the beat to the Lady Gaga song that's playing onto Beca's shoulder. It only takes one second of eye contact before they dissolve into a fit of laughter so full of snorts and weird throat-cackles that soon the whole room is hysterical.
Whilst everyone is still rowdy with laughter-tears and shout-singing, Beca sits up, pushes her body towards Chloe's, and grabs her face between her hands.
“Sorry, I know everyone's right here and everything, I just really do want to actually make out with you right now, so I'm going to do it anyway okay, because I know that we're keeping it quiet but they think we should make out, and I want to make out, and you're pretty fucking kissable and I love you and therefore I am going to kiss you and that seems like the right thing to do. Okay?”
Chloe laughs and presses her nose into Beca's. “Sure. Okay.”
And so Beca leans forward and kisses Chloe firmly, running her tongue along her bottom lip before gently sucking and pulling the lip into her mouth, encouraging the kiss immediately deeper so that they both fall into it without restraint.
“Holy shit.” Stacie's the first one to notice what's happening on the sofa.
“What the fuck, you guys!”
“Woo, yeah! Get. IT!”
Both girls just grin into the kiss, and Beca thinks briefly that it's the strangest sensation, to be smiling at her best friends' remarks whilst Chloe's tongue is in her mouth. But she has no intention of stopping. Chloe's hands wrap around her neck, gripping into the back of her hair, whilst Beca holds firmly onto Chloe's face still, thumbs running over the ridge of her cheekbones, and there's a familiarity to the whole scene that everyone in the room can feel. The way they mould together, and kiss languidly, as though it's a well-practised action. Which surprisingly, considering they've only been 'practising' for two weeks, it kind of is.
Then the music slides into I Saw the Sign and suddenly the two of them are not the most interesting thing in the room any more, as the rest of the girls rush to start doing their most over exaggerated flight-attendant moves, singing along noisily.
Beca breaks the kiss, bubbling with laughter.
“Alright, which one of you fuckers slipped this into the playlist?”
“That would be me.” Chloe's grin is devilish.
“Well come on then,” and Beca's up off the sofa in a flash, dragging Chloe with her. “Come dance with me Chloe Beale.”
Her lips are pink, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with mirth, and they don't take their eyes off of each other as everyone bounces together, screaming the chorus, cheeks aching with smiles.