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The “sure” that comes out of Shauna’s mouth is a surprise to them all.
It’s renewed hope to Cory —Connor? She hadn’t been paying attention, a little drunk and a lot distracted— a senior from another school who had wandered into Mari’s backyard from next door, found her being a fucking third wheel yet again and thought he would play hero as he tried and failed to charm her. It’s shallow amusement to Jeff, who had filled in the silence after Calvin’s unsuccessful attempts to impress her about his motorcycle with questions about engine size. It was the familiar anger that burned in Shauna’s chest when she saw Jackie roll her eyes and quickly hide a smirk behind a solo cup when Cam had asked her to dance, so sure already of what the answer would be.
(“No offense but you’re kind of a terrible dancer.” And the words were always fresh on her mind the few times someone asked her, making her say no.
She’s sure now that was the intention. Another way of Jackie getting exactly what she wants.)
But it’s the panic in Jackie’s wide eyes that’s the most satisfying when Shauna says “sure”, grabs Clay’s hand and walks him towards the living room dance floor without a glance back.
It’s no surprise when she hears let’s join them and Jeff groan behind her.
In a quick stop to the kitchen to freshen up their drinks, she hears someone call him Wes.
Oh.
It’s not her fault. He had introduced himself when Jackie was still smiling at her after Shauna made her laugh. A real laugh, not one of the ego soothers she appeases Jeff with.
Jackie wasn’t smiling now, an annoyed twitch on her lips when Wes offers to make her drink and pours far more Malibu than milk.
Shauna looks her straight in the eyes as she takes a long swallow. Watches them narrow for only a second before a hand is on her back to guide her towards where Rhythm of the Night has just started playing.
The floor is dark and energized —thank fuck— since Mari forbids all slow songs when she’s single and Wes finds them a spot on the outskirts and Jackie chooses the spot beside her instead of dragging Jeff towards the middle to be the center of attention and she sips more of her drink and says I’m a terrible dancer and Me too but who’s watching? and Jackie scoffs next to her and they dance for another song before he’s brave enough to put a hand on her waist where her blouse has ridden up and Jackie’s pressed against her side from all the people around them and two more songs go by and her drink is empty and Wes smiles at her and C’mon n’ Ride It starts playing and he leans down to speak right in her ear —and Jackie’s, by proximity—
“Speaking of, wanna see my bike next door? Let me give you a ride, baby.”
She’s grossed out. She’s impressed. She takes a second too long to respond and couldn’t be happier that her halfcocked drunken plan worked out so well when she’s yanked out of his grip and hears Jackie make some excuse to her boyfriend as she drags Shauna down the hall to a guest bathroom they’ve made use of in the past.
The lights are on, the lock clicks, and Shauna is backed against the countertop all with an efficiency that only comes from practice.
Jackie looks pissed and her ire sparks a shameful thrill inside Shauna.
(It’s a taste of her own medicine. Shauna shouldn’t feel bad.
She also shouldn’t feel the anticipation that’s blooming hot and low in her belly at the two of them finally being alone.
And yet, she feels both.)
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Shauna?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Dancing?”
“Stop, that’s not…why?”
“He asked. You were there.”
Jackie’s tone is measured. Shauna’s forced nonchalance. Just like always.
And just like always, it doesn’t take long to push each other’s buttons.
“That’s not what I mean!” Jackie snaps at her.
“I’m just answering your questions!” Shauna snips back.
Jackie’s look is dark as the air around them thickens.
“Okay, fine. Would you have fucked him?”
The words are spat out with disgust, the bluntness taking Shauna aback despite her want for this argument.
“What…excuse me?”
“He certainly wasn’t shy about it. Trying to get you drunk? Let me give you a ride? Jackass couldn’t even come up with a clever line.”
“He was talking about his bike.”
They both know he wasn’t talking about his bike.
“Don’t play dumb.” The scant space between them lessens. “What would you have done, Shauna? You didn’t say no. Would you…would you have actually fucking gone with him?”
How does it feel, Jackie?
She’s not proud to admit it but if it was the only way to see Jackie’s reaction then…
Shauna nods, decisive. “Yeah, maybe I wanted to. So what?” She enjoys when hands clench into fists. Then, bitter, “what’s stopping me?”
Jackie gives a humorless laugh. “You don’t mean that.”
“I don’t?”
“No, you don’t. I think you just wanted me to react.”
The words are smug and certain and true. They make Shauna bristle.
She reaches for the door. “I should go. Wes is wait-”
Jackie’s hand slams against it, holding it closed.
“Don’t go.” She says softly, pleading.
They stare at each other. Shauna’s eyes flutter. Jackie licks her lips.
They kiss hungrily, Jackie’s arms wrapping around her as Shauna moans and cups her face, tongues meeting and teeth clashing and a pained whine that makes it seem like it’s been years instead of a week since the last time they did this.
Each time a stolen moment. Each time a revelation. Each time cut short by reminders of who they’re supposed to be.
(Who Jackie’s supposed to be.)
They’ve already been gone longer than they normally allow themselves. Neither of them brings it up as Jackie trails down her neck and Shauna pulls on her hair to make her whimper.
Hands begin to travel. Reverent touches on the curve of a breast, waist, ass. Fast, hot breaths shared between them in a mix of sighs and hisses.
Jeans being unbuttoned and one of Jackie’s hands rubbing Shauna’s soaked center through her underwear and cutting off her loud moan in the nick of time with the other.
Fingers halted from touching Shauna properly when Jeff’s voice comes through the door calling Jackie’s name.
“Don’t go.” Shauna whispers, a desperate echo.
The fear in Jackie’s eyes tells her this won’t have the same outcome.
(And that’s how it goes, doesn’t it?
Jackie gets everything she wants. Shauna doesn’t.)
“Shauna, I-” Her voice wobbles, choked. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
Jackie quickly leaves the bathroom, Shauna’s slick still on her fingers as the door slams shut.