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Billie will be the first to admit that Issa is sometimes too much. She sort of has to be, because Samir couldn’t care less about whatever stupid shit Issa gets up to and Anton actively encourages it. Paul Baker tries to stop her, at least, but now Issa doesn’t bother listening to him.
Which is, you know, fair – Billie has never been forced to reconcile the fact that her boyfriend and her best guy friend were actually in love the entire time Issa and him had been dating, and the only reason any of them found out was because said boyfriend and best friend got married and then made out in front of them. But Billie imagines that it sucks major ass.
Issa is in the kitchen with her back to the living room when Billie walks in. She stops in the doorway and looks at her. Issa suddenly seems unfathomably small.
“Hey,” she says, trying to make herself sound chipper.
Issa turns around and wipes at her eyes. If anything, it just spreads her mascara around even more. She’s wearing her pajamas, the hem of her striped pants touching the floor. “Hey,” she answers miserably.
Billie gives her what she hopes is a reassuring smile. She’s never really felt out of place here, given how long she’s known Samir, but having Issa as a friend is something of a divine gift. It’s nice not being the only girl in the house. It’s nice to be able to collapse in Issa’s arms after Billie’s life implodes for the millionth time and just cry, and Issa will brush her hair and hold her, all warm and tight, in a way Billie knows their other housemates would never do.
”Are you…alright?” Billie asks.
Issa sniffs. She picks up her cup of tea that has been brewing on the counter and takes a sip. Billie watches as she swallows it unflinchingly.
“Did you just burn your throat?”
The shorter girl squeezes her eyes shut and grimaces. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, that wasn’t smart.”
Billie grabs a glass of water from the fridge and holds it out to her. Issa takes it from her after she’s finished making faces and downs it all.
“It’s—” gonna be alright, Iss. That was what Billie wanted to say, but it feels stupid now that she’s started the sentence aloud. It probably wasn’t going to be alright. Issa was good at hiding when she was upset, and she’d been perfectly amicable following Anton and Paul Baker’s kiss, but it’s plainly obvious that last night hurt her deeply. Billie stares at her as she finishes her water. Her face is puffy from crying and her hair is a mess.
“Hmm?” says Issa once she’s finished drinking.
“Oh, um. Did you and Paul Baker—”
“We broke up.” Issa gives a humorless laugh. “It was sort of hard to look past the, you know, thick sexual tension between him and Anton yesterday.”
“Yeah.” Billie winces. “Sorry…about that. Tough watch.”
“Definitely,” she agrees.
They stand there, awkwardly looking at each other. Issa rubs at her eyebrow with her thumb, peering at Billie with large, brown eyes, and Billie flushes automatically. There’s just something about Issa that makes her flustered. Issa is pretty and put together and funny, and even if she can sometimes be a mess, she’s always charming. Even her mistakes are charming.
“Do you,” she pauses, “maybe…want a hug?”
“God, yes,” says Issa, and before Billie can do anything else Issa throws her arms around her waist and squeezes. For a second, all Billie’s arms can do is flounder uselessly. But then she gets her bearings and wraps them around Issa’s back.
Issa is really warm. Hugging her isn’t weird at all, even though Billie can totally feel Issa’s face dangerously close to her boobs. It’s not the first time they’ve hugged, obviously, and it feels natural like it always does. She’s always hyperaware of her body when she hugs other people, but with Issa she just…melts.
She rubs her hand over Issa’s shoulder blades. “Fuck Paul Baker and Anton.”
“You don’t really mean that,” comes Issa’s muffled voice.
“Well, right now I do,” she says. “Maybe I won’t mean it when I see them again, but right now they suck.”
Issa is quiet for a bit. “Thanks, Bils,” she whispers finally.
“You’re gonna be just fine,” says Billie, pulling away. Issa looks like a sad little hamster huddled against her chest, and Billie has to bite back a laugh. “Come sit on the couch with me.”
“Okay,” says Issa. She’s being uncharacteristically quiet, but she doesn’t seem sad anymore, exactly. Maybe more drained than anything. Billie sits on the couch and turns to look at her. Issa gives her a small smile as she crawls next to her. “I’m such a mess,” she sighs.
“You’re allowed to be.” Billie isn’t sure why she says it, but it sounds vaguely self help-y, and Issa seems delighted by it.
“Look at you, Miss Therapist,” she teases.
“I’m not qualified enough to deal with your issues,” Billie snorts. Issa laughs, though it peters out as Billie pushes her shoulder gently. “Lie down. I’ll untangle your hair.”
“M’kay.”
She tries not to jolt as Issa lays her head down on her lap, turning her face into Billie’s knees. She stares listlessly at the TV before closing her eyes. With shaky fingers, Billie starts to comb through her hair.
“Anyone would be lucky to have you,” she says after a minute. “You’re a total catch.”
“Damn right I am,” mutters Issa.
Billie smiles. “Seriously. There are plenty of hot, sexy, single guys—”
“And girls,” Issa interjects.
“And girls— what?”
Issa rolls onto her back a bit so that she can look up at Billie. She frowns. “I’m bisexual.”
“Y-you’re what?”
Issa’s frown deepens. “I thought I had mentioned it.”
I’m fairly certain I would remember if you had, Billie thinks, a little hysterically.
She tries, very hard, not to let her eyes dart down to where Issa’s mouth is. Sure, she’s thought about kissing Issa – often, really – but she’d always treated it as an intrusive thought, like when Samir gets up in the middle of the night and his footsteps make Billie think she’s going to be attacked by Bigfoot. She ignores thoughts like those because they’re unproductive and illogical. Things like that don’t happen.
“Oh,” says Billie, quietly.
Issa raises an eyebrow. “Why are you being weird about this? You’re also bi.”
“I’m just…taking it all in. Lots to think about.”
“What? What is there to think about?” She rolls her eyes and laughs, grabbing Billie’s hand and returning it to her hair. “You’re so ridiculous, Bils. Go back to fixing my hair.”
“Right,” says Billie, a second too late.
Issa stares up at her, eyes soft. Billie focuses on taking a knot out of her hair, digging her nail through the hardened hairspray they’d used on Issa’s wedding hairdo. “I’m really glad it’s you.”
“Huh?” mumbles Billie.
“I can stand losing Paul Baker and Anton,” Issa says, “but I don’t think I could stand losing you.”
“I’ll always take your side, Iss,” says Billie, finally giving up on the knot and resting her hand on Issa’s head. “Even when you’re being really stupid.”
“I have to set my Hinge back up,” she sighs forlornly.
“Or,” hazards Billie, “you could…not do that.”
“What? Why not?”
“I think it’s good to just spend some time alone for now. We can be single together. Maybe go to that new place downtown. Share a dessert.” Billie knows that her face is bright red, but Issa doesn’t mention it, even though her eyes narrow imperceptibly.
“Alright,” says Issa after a moment, “it’s a date.”