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Freshman year of college, Melissa decides, is something she would not wish on her worst enemy.
First, she forgets to charge her phone at night so her alarm doesn’t even go off. When she did wake up and made herself look decently presentable, she pretty much instantly spills her cold brew all over herself and was even later to her classes than she would’ve been before.
And now, here she is, planted in front of Gen’s apartment, knocking every now and then waiting for an answer. Gosh— She probably looks like such a weirdo, waiting in front of a door this long.
Melissa might as well just turn around, go back to her apartment and bitch at Gen about this later, because she was the one who invited Melissa over in the first place.
Just as Melissa turns on her heel, ready to leave, the door swings open. Though, instead of Gen standing there with a stupid grin, it’s someone else— A girl around the same height as her, brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail, and an unimpressed expression that makes Melissa immediately feel like she’s done something wrong.
Her lips turn somewhat into a frown as she crosses her arms. “You’ve been knocking on my door forever,” she says flatly. “It got a little sad to watch.”
Melissa blinks, caught between embarrassment and a slim bit of annoyance. Of fucking course Gen couldn’t even be the one to open the door. “Um… Yeah, is Gen here?”
The girl raises an eyebrow. “Oh. She isn’t here, she left with her boyfriend like twenty minutes ago,” she tilts her head slightly, and Melissa feels uneasy under her gaze. She feels reminded of her shitty high school days, when she felt like she was constantly being judged in the locker room or in the middle of class. A grimace creeps onto her face.
“Rough day?” she says, her eyes flickering over the coffee stain on Melissa’s shirt. Melissa exhales sharply, looking down and huffing. She swore she cleaned nearly all of it up.
When she looks up, the girl— Gen’s roommate, Melissa presumes, still has her eyes locked on Melissa. “Yeah, uh, you have no idea.”
“Mm,” the girl hums. “Want me to tell her you stopped by?”
Melissa debates it for a second, but decides she’d rather not put Gen’s roommate through the trouble, she already looks sort of irritated. “Nah,” she starts with an awkward smile that she almost immediately regrets. “I’ll just… text her myself.”
The other girl simply nods her head and leaves her with a “Cool.” before shutting the door in Melissa’s face.
Melissa frowns at the hostility. She also feels a little flutter at it, which is probably more to her exasperation than Gen at this point.
“Come over.”
Melissa smacks her lips at the voice on her phone while she finishes folding some jeans. “Yeah, well, the last time you asked me to come over you weren’t even there.”
Gen lets out a groan, and Melissa can imagine her rolling over the bed in irritation. “I told you I’m sorry! He wanted to hang out and I forgot to tell you,” she explains.
“Your roommate is a little scary, you know that right?”
“Shauna? You met Shauna?”
Melissa frowns at Gen’s tone. “Uh. Yeah? Why does it matter?” she questions as she continues folding her clothes.
Gen huffs. “It doesn’t. Not really. She’s just,” she trails off before snickering a bit. “You’re right, she is scary. But she responded to my roommate ad and pays her part of rent on time, so…”
Melissa smiles and throws some shirts on hangers. “Yeah, she slammed the door in my face when I went up to your apartment,” she shakes her head when Gen lets out a loud laugh from the other side of the phone.
“Uh-huh,” theres some shuffling over on the other line. “Well, I’m here, so you don’t have to worry about Shauna slamming any doors on you.”
As much as Melissa wants to be petty, she does miss Gen, and the promise of catching up without the chaos of classes getting in the way pretty much outweighs the reluctance.
“Sure,” Melissa sighs with finality. “Yeah, I’ll come over. But if you aren’t there-“
”Oh my god. Just hurry up.”
When Melissa does show up, Gen is there. She sits on the couch, a half-empty bag of pretzels on her lap and a desk cluttered with bits and pieces of junk that are so uniquely Gen that Melissa isn’t necessarily bothered by the mess.
“Finally, I was about to start talking to my wall for entertainment,” Gen smiles as she sits up and makes space for Melissa on her bed.
Melissa kicks off her shoes with ease— she hadn’t bothered to actually put on a good outfit and instead put on some random pair of crocs— and shakes her head. “As if you don’t talk to your wall when you miss me.”
Gen scrunches her face together and sags against her pillows. “Jesus, when’d you get so mean?”
“You’ll live.”
They settle into an easy conversation, and Melissa notes they hadn’t really had the time to catch up. Melissa rants about assignments that are piling up, which, she should get on that, and Gen rants about her questionable life choices, which, are unsurprising to Melissa given how long they’ve known each other.
Melissa steals a pretzel from Gen’s bag and pops it into her mouth. “If I have to read one more chapter of that god-awful lit textbook I’ll start using it as a doorstop instead.”
Gen hums in agreement. “Probably the most useful thing it could be.”
“Right.”
“But, like, you know what old people say. Suffering builds character or whatever.”
Melissa scoffs and rolls her eyes, stretching her legs out on the couch. It’s nice— just being here. Talking, laughing, like they always have.
A key turns in the door and Melissa hears the small creak of poor building structure as the door opens.
Almost instantly, she knows who it is. There’s a bit of a shift in the atmosphere, nothing drastic, but it’s enough to make Melissa sit up a little straighter as she glances over.
Shauna walks in the apartment with a white plaid flannel draped over her frame as she carries a plastic grocery bag in one hand and a Red Bull in the other. She has the same unreadable expression Melissa saw on her the last time they met, and Melissa would swear that she was in a consistently sour mood if it weren’t for the big brown eyes.
Her gaze flicks to Melissa, lingering just a little too long that it makes her feel uncomfortable all over again, before her attention shifts to Gen.
“You left your keys on the counter again,” she says before tossing the set to the sofa. Melissa thinks she must be in a better mood than their first encounter, because her tone of voice isn’t necessarily as monotonous this time, she’d even say it was coy if she didn’t know better.
Gen grins and catches the keys before stashing them in a random pocket of her jeans. “You’re so nice.”
Shauna furrows her eyebrows and doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, she finally acknowledges Melissa with a small nod.
“You’re back.”
Melissa purses her lips together and shifts slightly, suddenly feeling weirdly aware of herself. “Uh, yeah. Gen actually decided to show up this time.”
Shauna lets out a quiet hum of recognition. “Lucky you,” she responds while she sits the grocery bag on the counter.
Melissa doesn’t know how to reply and instead lets the conversation (if you can even call it that) sit in the atmosphere.
When Shauna grabs a notebook and starts working, Gen gets right back to rambling.
Melissa wipes her hands against her pants, only now realizing how clammy they’ve gotten. Great. She sneaks a quick glance back at Shauna— just for a second, just to see— but forces her eyes away once her stomach does a weird and unsteady flip. Instead, Melissa focuses her gaze on a random spot on the wall, pretending the warmth in her face is from the stuffy dorm room.
She decides to cross that bridge when she gets to it.
Melissa gets to that bridge.
Once she’d first seen Shauna that day, she started popping up everywhere.
If she’s getting a coffee from some local café, she sees that warm brown hair pass by in a blur through the window. Melissa sees her in the library too, nose buried in her studies. The dining hall, across campus, the bus stop.
The weirdest part is it isn’t at all on purpose. Melissa isn’t a stalker. It’s like Shauna exists in the corners of her world now, slipping into her periphery whether she wants her to or not.
Shauna is just there —woven into the fabric of Melissa’s days like some odd, persistent thread she never meant to pull.
All and all, Melissa really should have suspected Shauna would be looming at this party.
She barely even wanted to come herself, but Gen had insisted, practically dragging her out the door with the promise of just one drink and I swear, if you stay in your apartment any longer, you’re going to fuse with your bed.
So now, here Melissa is. In some too-hot, too-loud frat house, packed shoulder to shoulder with people she mostly doesn’t know. Gen has already disappeared somewhere in the crowd, leaving Melissa to fend for herself.
She’s leaning against the counter, nursing a can of cheap beer and focusing on the swish of the liquor inside, when she spots Shauna. Of course, Shauna.
She’s here, why wouldn’t she be? The universe must have some weird sense of humor, always dropping Shauna into Melissa’s space like it’s some stupid joke she’s never been able to understand the punchline of.
And then, without warning, Melissa feels it, that unmistakable weight of eyes on her.
Melissa’s heart lurches in her chest as Shauna’s gaze lingers on her, eyes slowly tracing the lines of her face. It’s becoming increasingly embarrassing how much she notices it, how much she’s aware of Shauna’s attention. How much it affects her.
Melissa silently gulps and tries to redirect her focus to the can in the center of her palms, but she can’t shake the pressure of Shauna’s stare.
She feels the heat creeping onto her neck and grips the can like it’ll somehow squeeze the awkwardness out of her. The longer she stands in this house, the more she feels like she’s suffocating under the leer of Shauna.
Jesus, Melissa needs some air.
With a deep breath, Melissa pushes her elbows off of the counter and looks anywhere but Shauna as she trails outside, pushing through the mass of people.
As she steps outside, she allows the air to hit her face. It doesn’t do anything to reconstruct this weird sensation inside her gut, Melissa is aware of that, but the feeling is nice at the very least.
She wishes Gen was here— She wouldn’t be so flustered, she wouldn’t be so focused on Shauna. She doesn’t even know Shauna that well aside from a few short lived conversations here and there and some people-watching when she spots Shauna in random places.
The beer in her hand isn’t even full anymore,
small sips can only keep it filled for so long, and it makes her sigh as she chucks it in a bin a few feet away.
Melissa lets out a slow breath and pushes a few strands of hair out of her face. For a second she considers just leaving Gen here and heading home, the shitty beer wasn’t even good enough to give her a buzz.
But then, her ears perk up when deliberate, slow footsteps approach.
Melissa stiffens, her pulse kicking right back up as if she hadn’t just cooled off. She turns her head just enough to see Shauna stepping out into the cool air like she hadn’t spent the last five minutes staring at Melissa like she was something worth looking at.
She doesn’t say anything at first. Neither does Shauna. She sort of just… exists in Melissa’s presence. Melissa feels like she’s been set on fire.
“Do you always run away like that?” Shauna asks, her voice low, amused. Melissa looks down and brings herself to laugh under her breath.
“No.”
Shauna nods at the response, tilting her head like she doesn’t quite believe that. Like she’s already decided Melissa is a runner.
Melissa forces herself to look up at Shauna and breathe, but her nerves are fraying at the edges. She shifts her weight from one foot to another as if it’ll ground her. It doesn’t. Not when Shauna is looking at her like that and certainly not when the streetlamp light catches the round angles of her face and only Melissa is there to see the beauty of it.
She should say something else, something casual, something that doesn’t make her sound like she’s completely unraveling under Shauna’s gaze. Instead, she forces a breathy, “Just needed air.”
Shauna raises an eyebrow, considering. “Right.”
Melissa wants to bash her head into the wall of the house. It’s like her voice is betraying her mind and broadcasting just how off-kilter Shauna makes her feel.
“Why are you out here?”
It’s meant to sound like an accusation, but it just comes out weak. Shauna shrugs. “Maybe I needed air too.”
Melissa narrows her eyes. This conversation is stupid. She should just go back inside, find Gen, pretend this interaction never happened. But her feet stay glued to the ground, her arms crossing over her chest like that’ll somehow protect her from whatever the hell is happening here.
Shauna tightens her lips together and takes a step closer.
Melissa doesn’t move, but she feels it— feels the way her stomach twists up, the way her breath catches slightly. She’s so painfully obvious. And pathetic.
Shauna watches her, and for a second, Melissa thinks she’s gonna call her a creep. Tell her to stop stalking and staring at her and to get a life.
Instead, Shauna takes another step. It’s barely an inch, but to Melissa, it’s a mile.
Shauna is right there. Just a foot away. Melissa’s pulse is thundering in her ears in a way she hasn’t felt since sleepovers in middle school.
And then, before Melissa can even process it, Shauna is leaning in.
Her lips are so soft against Melissa’s it nearly isn’t fair. It’s not hurried or desperate. But it’s also fleeting and as soon as it’s coming, it’s going.
Melissa doesn’t react. Her mind is speeding like a hamster on a wheel trying to tell her body to move, but she sort of just stands there pathetically.
As quickly as it happened, Shauna pulls back and gives Melissa a brief smile before she wanders back in the house and leaves Melissa to pick up the pieces of herself she’s just dropped on the ground.
God, she has it terribly.
“So,” Gen shovels fries into her mouth as they sit in the middle of some dingy burger place in the middle of town. “What’s your deal?”
Melissa’s eyebrow quirks up. “What?”
“The other night— at the party— you were acting… I dunno, off.”
Melissa scoffs and dips a fry in ketchup. “Yeah, I’m surprised you even remember that night,” she says as she takes a bite.
Gen rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I was barely even tipsy,” she sets her elbows on the table. It’s a bit stained and sticky, Melissa can tell the owners aren’t too fond of cleaning. “Spill.”
Melissa hums at the assumption. She was acting different, she knows that, but it’s only because her best friend’s roommate, the girl who’s been haunting Melissa’s days and nights, Shauna Shipman of all people had kissed her and walked off like it didn’t matter.
She hadn’t seen her since then.
“Nothing happened.”
“Did you hookup with someone?”
“Why are you so dead set on this?”
Gen shakes her head. “I’m not,” her eyes feel like they’re trying to stab Melissa, and the latter feels abruptly conscious of the fact this feels more like an interrogation than a friendly hangout. “I can just tell when you’re hiding something.”
For a second, Melissa does feel bad. She tells Gen everything. The feeling quickly leaves once she remembers Gen would be more annoying about this if she did know rather than if she doesn’t.
“It’s nothing.”
Gen doesn’t look convinced. She leans back in the booth and crosses her arms over her chest.
“Right, nothing,” she nods slowly. Melissa feels like a child who just told her teacher that a dog ate her homework. “So you were just looking all,” Gen waves a fry in the air trying to look for the right word, “broody in the car after the party for no reason?”
“I don’t brood,” Melissa says defensively, taking a sip of her drink.
Gen sorts. “Mel, you were brooding so hard I thought you were gonna start chain-smoking and writing Bob Dylan-esque poetry.”
“Don’t you mean Dylan Thomas?”
“Bob Dylan wrote poems.”
“Not good ones.”
Gen rolls her eyes. “So not the point. You’re deflecting.”
Melissa huffs and slumps in her chair. “You’re so annoying,” she replies as Gen studies her stance.
The girl in front of her simply scoffs and pops another fry into her mouth. Melissa does as well but grimaces at the soggy texture of them. “Come on. You’re hiding something.”
“Not everything is that deep, Gen.”
Gen tilts her head, eyes narrowing like a cat about to pounce. “Oh, so there is something.”
Melissa doesn’t take the bait and just pushes the tray of fries towards Gen. More for her. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t not say that.”
Melissa blinks at her and watches Gen grow more frustrated. Gen has always been in Melissa’s business, and usually, Melissa would let her. But barely she even knows what happened at that party.
Gen lets out an exasperated groan, dragging a hand down her face. “Oh my god. You are literally the worst person I know.”
Melissa doesn’t respond.
“You don’t have to tell me every detail you know,” Gen says, her expression turning the slightest bit softer. Melissa shakes her head, because she knows Gen absolutely will make her. “That’s a lie.”
“Okay, yeah, that is a lie,” Gen exhales sharply and taps a fry against the edge of the tray like she’s plotting something.
Melissa doesn’t like that look. It’s the same one Gen has always gotten when she’s about to start some kind of long, drawn-out scheme Melissa inevitably ends up suffering through.
After a beat, she leans back, tilting her head like shes sizing Melissa up. “Well, it is a girl, right?”
Melissa looks to the floor.
“I knew it. Who? Do I know her? Is she hot?” Gen asks, practically vibrating in her seat.
Melissa sighs through her nose and stirs her straw through her drink, watching the ice swirl in circles. “I’m not talking to you about this.”
Gen pauses, chewing her lip before spouting out, “Okay. Whatever. Have your secrets,” and leaning back like she doesn’t care.
Melissa scoffs and finishes her soda with a slurp.
As it turns out, Melissa can apparently not have her secrets.
Gen does drop it, Melissa figures it’s because her friend knows trying to drag it out of her will probably only jam it further in there.
The only problem is this: Melissa has always been terrible at keeping her secrets. Especially when the secret has become a kinda constant thing.
“Mel, if you came here to stare at the kitchen wall instead of help me study, I’m kicking you out.”
Melissa snaps her gaze from Shauna’s back— she’s cooking something, Melissa assumes— to Gen’s furrowed eyebrows.
Melissa tightens her lips together. “Ah, sorry.”
Gen laughs at her and then turns her focus onto some excerpt her English professor provided and starts annotating.
The next time something like that happens, it is significantly more embarrassing.
Melissa is catching up with Mari in the courtyard, she was gone for a couple weeks because of a wedding or something.
Melissa mostly tunes her out, because Shauna is right there, some bag of chips next to her while she scrolls on her phone. Her hair is pulled up and Melissa finds Mari’s voice straying further and further way from her attention.
“Holy shit, are you checking out Shauna Shipman?” Mari questions, way too loud. Shauna’s head perks up at the mention of her name.
Melissa grates her teeth together and flushes at Shauna’s eyes on her. “Could you say that a little louder next time to make sure everyone hears you?”
Mari pouts before jumping right back into her rambling.
This happens another three or four times before Melissa decides she has seriously got to do something about Shauna Shipman.
After a few days of trying to overcome her cowardice, Melissa is here, where she’s been so many times, in front of Gen’s apartment.
Thursday nights are Gen and her boyfriend’s date night, so Melissa knows she isn’t here. Now she just has to hype herself up to knock on the door and ask Shauna what the hell they’ve got going on.
She brings her hand up to the door, but it falls flat when the door swings open to reveal Shauna in the doorway, zipping up her jacket.
Jesus christ.
Shauna cocks her head to the side at the sight and Melissa feels that same feeling she felt back at that party, when she felt like every part of her was being analyzed under Shauna’s gaze:
“Gen isn’t here,” Shauna says, and she pushes past Melissa, car keys in hand.
Melissa is stuck in place while Shauna walks through the hallway, but she knows if she doesn’t say anything now she’ll probably never say again and desperately try to avpid Shauna for about the next 3 years.
“I’m,” Melissa starts and freezes up a bit when Shauna turns around to listen. Those eyes are gonna be the death of her. “I’m not here for Gen.”
Shauna looks surprised, like she wasn’t expecting Melissa to have the balls to confront her. Melissa doesn’t know whether to feel offended or to feel proud of herself. She’s caught Shauna off gaurd.
“Oh. You’re here for me?”
Melissa swallows the knot in her throat and nods.
“Um, I have to run errands.”
The faux confident face Melissa has put on falters slightly. “I wont be long, I just,” Melissa shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “I really like you.”
Okay, that sounded really childish. She’d be killing it if she were a twelve year old.
Shauna raises her eyebrows, and Melissa knows she has to keep going. “I’ve liked you ever since you kissed me at that party, um, probably longer than that. If I’m being honest.”
Melissa feels like the weight of ten thousand cinderblocks has been suddenly lifted off of her, and now she worries less about what she’s told Shauna and more about how Shauna will react to it.
Which, Shauna has always been a mystery to Melissa, but in this moment, she is even more so.
Shauna starts making her way over to Melissa, and Melissa feels likes her heart is getting lodged in her esophagus.
“Do you always wear that hat?” Shauna asks, looking at the pink accessory accompanying Melissa.
Shit— Melissa knew she should’ve just left her questionable fashion choices at home, now Shauna is probably going to think shes an even bigger loser than before.
Melissa fiddles with the brim on the back of her head nervously. “Um, I mean, yeah. Sometimes.”
Shauna cracks a grin and steps closer to Melissa. “It’s a bold choice.”
Melissa fumbles her words as she tries to gets them out. She wishes she could grow out of being such a nervous wreck.
“I guess I like it, though,” The girl in front of her takes ahold of Melissa’s hat and flips it so that she’s wearing it the right way.
Melissa stands, sputtering, while Shauna trails down the hallway, eyes stuck on Melissa the whole way there.
“Where are you going?”
Shauna holds up her keys. “Errands.”
“You’re finally gonna switch out that old as shit hat?” Gen asks one day, when she’s taken her to the mall to pick out a Valentines Day gift.
Melissa searches through the rack, biting her lip when she sees a really pretty shade of pink. “Maybe.”
“Look at you,” Gen says cheekily while raising a shoulder. “Making a change.”
Melissa pulls back from Shauna’s lips as the other girl shrugs her flannel off and only then realizes what time it is as she glances at the digital clock on Shauna’s dresser.
“Shit,” Melissa groans. “Isn’t Gen supposed to be back soon?”
So far, Melissa’s spring has looked like this: sneaking in Gen’s dorm to see Shauna on Thursday nights and sneaking right back out once it gets too late. It’s been nice, and Melissa has found that Shauna isn’t as terrifying as she cracked her up to be in her mind all those months ago.
First of all, Shauna likes to cuddle (as she stumbles upon when they’d accidentally fell asleep together one night, and it would’ve been tough to explain to Gen if she weren’t passed out on her own bed by the time they woke up) which was an unexpected development, but it certainly wasn’t a bad one.
Shauna also used to play soccer, Melissa discovers, when she walks into Shauna’s room for the first time, and sees a framed polaroid of three girls in jerseys, soccer balls in hand. One of the two that isn’t Shauna has ginger hair Melissa swears she’s seen on campus before, and the other has a large eight plastered on her jersey.
Shauna prefers pancakes over waffles, cats over dogs, pepper over salt, movies over TV shows, and rain over snow. Melissa feels weird, memorizing this all, but it’s so refreshing to get to know someone all over again— ask them things, tell them things.
And now, sitting on top of Shauna’s bed, Melissa knows most of all that they are short on time.
Shauna’s eyebrows draw together as she leans back, sleeves of her flannel still halfway down her forearm. “Who gives a shit about Gen?”
Melissa blinks, gaze darting around the room. “I mean… What if she finds out?” she asks, rubbing her hands on her crossed knees.
“Melissa,” Shauna starts. “You don’t have to walk out the door and scream to the world that we’re dating, or,” she motions between them. “whatever this is. But you don’t have to sneak out like some dirty little secret.”
Melissa crinkles her nose. “Whatever this is?”
“Do you wanna be dating?”
“Um,” the corner of Melissa’s mouth twitches up. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” Shauna gives Melissa a once-over and gives her a small lopsided grin. “Then we’re dating.”
Melissa shakes her head and laughs. One of the things she likes most about Shauna is that, when she wants to be, at least, she’s blunt. Though Melissa does recall the few months long cat and mouse Shauna put her through.
Shauna leans forward and initiates the kiss, and the heat from before Melissa interrupted the moment immediately flows back to her face.
Melissa, as eager as ever, tugs on the sleeves of Shauna’s flannel and leaves her arms bare as Shauna nibbles on her lip and tastes their shared breath.
Melissa exhales softly as Shauna's fingers trail up to cup her jaw. She tilts her head, parting her lips to meet Shauna's kiss, deepening it as their tongues brush.
Shauna shifts, pressing closer, and Melissa feels the slow drag of Shauna’s fingertips under her shirt and up her spine and her breath hitches when Shauna’s fingers trace lazy patterns along her back.
She fists her hands in the fabric of Shauna’s shirt, pulling her in, as if there’s any more space to close between them. Shauna exhales a quiet snicker against her lips, her nose brushing Melissa’s cheek as she tilts her head.
“You’re handsy tonight,” Shauna mumbles between sloppy kisses. Melissa feels her face flush, but she doesn’t loosen her grip.
Melissa’s mouth curves into a smile and she lets her fingers trail down and brush over Shauna’s waistband. “I guess.”
But then, some distant sound cuts through the air. A door creaks open in the hall, followed by muffled footsteps and the faint jingle of keys. Melissa freezes, eyes wide.
“Fuck. Is that Gen?” Melissa questions, backing off of Shauna.
Shauna’s face screws up as her eyes bore through Melissa. “Who else could it be?” she retorts before her expression softens a bit. “Relax, she’s not even through the door yet.”
“What if she walks in on us?”
Shauna shakes her head. “Why would she walk in my room? We aren’t friends like that.”
“Okay, but like,” Melissa begins in a hush, her words trailing out of her before she can control them. “What if you forgot to do the dishes or something and she walks in and she sees us and obviously she knows we wouldn’t hang out, and, like, she asks us what’s going on?”
“That’s not gonna happen, and we,” Shauna rubs her thumb over one of Melissa’s knuckles. “Aren’t anyone’s business but ours. So, whatever if she asks us.”
They’re both speaking in a whisper to the background noise of Gen’s footsteps. There’s her faint voice telling someone a goodbye, and then the closing of her bedroom.
Shauna exhales and then raises her eyebrows at Melissa. “See,” she cocks her head towards the direction of Gen’s room. “You worry too much.”
Melissa smooths her hair out, knowing how fucked it probably looks at this point, and stands up. Shauna tightens her lips together.
“I should go,” Melissa mutters, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just in case.”
Shauna watches her, and then nods. “Okay.”
Melissa frowns. At this point, she’s improved at reading Shauna’s body language, and she can tell Shauna cares a tad bit more than she’s letting on.
“You don’t have to leave, if you’re worried about Gen. She’ll find out one way or another,” Shauna says, and she twiddles her thumbs on her thighs.
“I don’t… want to sneak around,” Melissa says, pouting her lips. She’d like to stay, really. “I just don’t wanna make things weird.”
Shauna’s mouth sets in a hard line. “Alright. I’ll hold you to that. Just,” Shauna stands up to Melissa’s level. “Think about it?” and then she’s taking Melissa’s hat from her head, and placing it on her own.
Melissa kisses her goodbye, and, for now, thinking can wait.
One night, Shauna is the one who shows up at Melissa’s door.
It’s slightly frustrating. Shauna looked gorgeous in ways words can’t describe each time she opened the door to Melissa, and here Melissa is, in grey shorts, mismatched socks, and a wrinkled shirt.
Shauna comes in and closes the door behind her without Melissa telling her to.
“Uh,” Melissa starts, rubbing the back of her neck. “Hey.”
Shauna’s gaze flickers over her, and Melissa sees the hint of amusement in her expression. “Cute outfit,” Shauna teases, one corner of her mouth quirking up.
“I wasn’t, um, expecting company.”
Shauna steps in further. “Clearly,” she muses, her gaze dragging down Melissa’s body.
“So,” Melissa trails behind Shauna as the other girl analyses her living space. “Did you need something?”
Shauna shakes her head and sits down on the couch shoved against one of Melissa’s walls. “No. I wanted to see you.”
Melissa just stands there. Shauna’s forehead creases. “Is that… alright?”
“Oh,” Melissa breathes. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s alright,” she says, crossing her arms and sitting next to Shauna on the couch.
Shauna’s presence fills the room so effortlessly, and Melissa is suddenly hyperaware of how she’s sitting. God, they’ve been dating for nearly four months now and Melissa feels like she’s going to implode everytime she’s near Shauna.
Shauna gives her an almost-grin, nudging her knee.
They kiss, without the worries of time or apartments or Gens.
When Melissa wakes up that morning, the spot next to her is empty but warm.
And when Melissa walks into the kitchen, slightly concerned Shauna woke up and dashed out the door, she instead sees her pacing around the kitchen.
Melissa purses her lips. “What are you doing?”
Shauna pauses her pacing and looks at Melissa, hands on her hips. Melissa’s heart leaps a little when she notices Shauna is wearing a shirt from her closet.
Shauna runs a hand over her face. “Uh, where’s your Keurig?”
“I don’t have a Keurig.”
“Mm. Where’s your coffee?”
Melissa quirks up an eyebrow. “I don’t,” she rubs her neck. “I don’t have coffee here.”
Shauna crinkles her nose. “You don’t have any coffee here?” she asks, and Melissa feels judged above all else.
Melissa crosses her arms, shifting on her feet. "I usually just grab some from a café," she defends, though Shauna's glare makes her feel like she's just admitted to kicking puppies for fun.
Shauna huffs and shakes her head before going to dig in the fridge like she lives here. Melissa pulls out her phone and opens Uber Eats.
This part of Shauna, Melissa decides, is her’s only.
At some point, carelessness has to bite Melissa right in the ass.
Ever since that night Gen almost walked in on her and Shauna, you’d think she would learn her lesson. She doesn’t.
They’re making out on the apartment’s sofa, nothing heated, the kisses are slow and lazy and Melissa thinks that of all the kisses her and Shauna have shared, these are her favorite.
Melissa has prolonged her stay, she knows that. But when she tried to tell Shauna she had to leave, Shauna dragged her right back in, and who is she to complain?
Shauna’s hand is resting lightly on Melissa’s waist while her thumb strokes slow, idle circles over the fabric of her shirt. It’s such a subtle, absentminded touch, but it makes Melissa feel like her whole body is on fire.
Melissa should leave. She’s thought it maybe four, five times already, give or take. But every time she starts to pull back, Shauna makes a low, disapproving noise against her mouth, or her hand slides just a little lower on her waist, and it keeps her planted on the couch.
And, Jesus fucking Christ, Melissa is so weak for her.
Melissa is so caught up in Shauna’s lips and the scrape of her teeth against her and everything so enrapturing about her that she doesn’t hear the faint click of the door unlocking.
”Whaat the fuck.”
Shauna’s mouth snaps apart from Melissa’s and Melissa doesn’t even have time to wipe her mouth off before her eyes are locking with Gen’s.
“What the fuck,” she repeats, her voice sharper this time, like she’s still trying to process what she’s seeing. Melissa darts her eyes to Shauna, and she can’t exactly tell what’s going on in her mind.
“Gen—”
“How long?” Gen asks, her eyes have widened no less, and she’s gripping onto the strap of her bag like she’ll combust if she doesn’t. “I mean, what the hell?”
“Um. Since, like,” Melissa fiddles with her fingers. “February?”
Gen blinks. “Melissa, it is May,” her eyebrows furrow into her forehead. “And you better not tell me that you’ve been sleeping around with my roommate for four months.”
Melissa gets this look on her face like a guilty dog that’s been caught tearing up a shoe. “Well…”
“We aren’t sleeping around,” Shauna blurts out, she shifts in her feet and Melissa notices the faintest shade of pink painting her cheeks. “She’s my girlfriend.”
Melissa tries to fight it, but she can’t help but smile at the term, a mix of gratitude and anxiety mixing in her chest af Shauna taking the reigns.
Gen nibbles on her bottom lip. “Okay. Well. This is kinda revolting.”
A scoff escapes Melissa’s mouth. “You’re being dramatic.”
Gen sighs. “I’m just,” she flares her nostrils. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. I’m not mad, or whatever, I already knew something was going on with you.”
Melissa’s shoulders slump a little. “You’re not mad?”
“No. It’s… whatever. I guess,” Gen finally cracks a smile, though it’s tinged with disbelief. “Just— just don’t keep me in the dark next time. I don’t need to walk in on... that.”
Shauna’s jaw unclenches, Melissa can still feel an aura of annoyance radiating off of her. “Right. We won’t.”
“Okay,” Gen stands awkwardly, still in the doorway. “Don’t… make a habit of making out on the couch, though,” Gen says, her voice laced with exasperation as she walks toward her room, throwing them both one last confused look before she shuts the door.
Melissa and Shauna sit in the silence that follows, the weight of the moment settling over them like a thick blanket. Melissa exhales in relief but feels her chest tighten in the aftermath. She looks at Shauna, who, doesn’t seem entirely unbothered, though she’s definitely less tense now.
“So,” Melissa begins, trying to lighten the mood with a simper. “Wanna go back to mine, or…”
Shauna scoffs through a grin and grabs her things.
When summer arrives, their days are primarily spent in Melissa’s apartment.
Melissa is flipping bacon on a sizzling pan, hissing when a hint of grease splashes onto her every now and then, sipping coffee out of a mug while the Keurig (yes, Melissa made an investment.) empties out a pod of coffee beans into another cup for Shauna.
“That smells good,” Shauna says when she patters out of Melissa’s room.
Melissa nods and holds the cup of coffee out to her girlfriend. “The creamer should be somewhere in the fridge.”
“Mm, thank you,” Shauna murmurs as she takes the mug from Melissa’s hands and walks to the refrigerator.
“So,” Shauna says after a small while. “My friends wanna meet you.”
Melissa draws her eyebrows together. “Oh. Which ones?” she asks, eyes drifting from the bacon to Shauna as she pulls the done ones off and onto a plate and replaces them with raw ones from the package.
Shauna leans against Melissa’s counter. “Tai and Van,” she sips her coffee. Melissa raises her eyebrows. Van, she’s come to discover, is that one ginger goalie she keeps seeing in the videos of soccer games Shauna sends her from time to time. Tai is Van’s girlfriend and the midfielder, Melissa recalls.
Both are slightly intimidating.
“Not right now, obviously. But soon,” Shauna says, pulling out a chair and sitting at the table. “I think you’d like them.”
Melissa grins. “Alright then.”
Shauna takes another sip of her coffee and grimaces once she pays attention to what she’s drinking. “Your coffee sucks.”
Well, if college brought Melissa Shauna, she supposes it’s alright.