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“Shit, I’m sleepin’ here tonight,” Rachel slurs, lifting her empty bottle aimlessly.
Sarah just nods. Rachel sleeping over is something that’s stuck in their friendship from the beginning. They started having sleepovers at fifteen and Sarah’s parents didn’t keep sleeping bags or an air mattress or anything around the house, so it made sense to share Sarah’s bed. It wasn’t something they ever talked about, but they never stopped doing it, either. So when Rachel hesitates before getting into bed, Sarah has no idea why.
“Hm?” Sarah says, shimmying her jeans off.
“Uh,” Rachel looks away. “Nothing. Never mind.” She kicks off her heels and collapses, face down, on the mattress. Sarah dutifully washes off her makeup, does her skincare, and when she returns from the bathroom, Rachel is snoring loudly.
Sarah pulls the comforter over her shoulders and shuts off a lamp.
When she wakes up, Rachel is still out. Instead of getting up to get ready for the day, which she really should be doing right now, she stays there for a moment. And she just. Watches Rachel sleep.
Rachel looks so calm like this. Peaceful. There’s not another way to describe it. Her eyeshadow has smeared all over her face, from tossing and turning, no doubt, so her face is softly accented with blue glitter all over, lit up by the slowly rising sun. Her mouth is slightly open, and if Sarah were to get a little bit closer, she imagines she could feel- smell- her breathing. Sarah knows Rachel's breath would probably smell gross and rotten and maybe like the jelly shots they shared last night if they're lucky, but something about that excites her. Why does that excite her?
She feels soft and warm just looking at Rachel. Like, maybe she wouldn’t mind waking up next to her like this, cozy and gentle, for the rest of her life.
Because they’re really good friends.
Rachel wakes up only when it’s fully bright out and sputters loudly, spitting a strand of hair out of her mouth. “Huh? What the fuck? What time is it.”
Sarah checks her phone. “Like seven.”
“PM?”
“AM.”
Rachel grunts. "We still going to Jessica's at ten?"
Sarah scrolls through some notifications. Lucas has sent her what she thinks is a prog metal concert video that looks like it was filmed with a microwave. Tricia's saying something about cabin fever. Peleeken has sent a bunch of cute kitten reels on IG. Her horoscope says to avoid risky moves, as more practical choices will bring clarity. She screenshots the last one for later. "Yeah."
"Then I'm goin' back to sleep." Rachel flips over.
"Aw, really?" Sarah says, not pouting, exactly, but- "I wanted to try that new brunch place by the art supply store. They have, like, this cute little rabbit theme. Looked fun!"
Rachel mumbles something into a pillow. "Fmmhn."
"Huh?"
"FINE. We'll get your fuckin', rabbit brunch. But they better have good waffles."
Sarah stands and wipes some smeared lipstick off the corner of her mouth she seemingly missed last night. "The waffles on their website looked pretty good," she says.
They get ready together, passing lipstick and mascara (Rachel keeps a tray of her makeup in Sarah's bathroom) and clothes and the hairbrush. Sarah pulls on a cardigan and she doesn’t think about how watching Rachel sleep felt, somehow, more intimate than anything she’s done with a man.
-
It’s the evening of Rachel’s twenty-ninth birthday party. She and Sarah are eating leftover satire cake, passing a bottle of vodka back and forth, and watching this weird violent claymation dinosaur thing on Dailymotion, which is when Rachel confesses she’s into women.
“Oh,” says Sarah, “Okay.” She thinks for a moment. “You liked a lot of guys, uh, for a gay girl.”
“Yeah, well, turns out I actually didn’t, so,” Rachel says. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t accuse me of being a fakebian, just for not being a gold star, I just came out to you, it’s kinda- kinda a serious moment.”
“Aw, sorry, Rachel, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” Sarah gets up and hugs her. “I’m glad you can tell me stuff like this. I'm happy for you, and this doesn't change anything. You're still my bestie."
"Yeah, yeah," Rachel's hand comes up to brush Sarah's sleeve. "…thanks."
"Do you wanna watch that documentary you were talking about the other day?" Sarah says, sensing a subject change would be appreciated.
"Aw, hell yeah," Rachel says, stealing the remote, "I heard the director actually starved the narrator guy so he could fully sell the emaciated trolls thing. So fucking cool."
"That's really unethical, Rachel," Sarah says. "I don't know that he should have done that."
"What? Yes he shoulda. You just don't understand making art," Rachel responds. "Sometimes things have to be made in a way that's hard on the artists to be really accurate. You need to be more understanding of other perspectives."
"Okay, maybe. Sorry." They watch the documentary.
So, Rachel’s gay. That’s- really great. Sarah loves gay people! Two guys she’s went out with came out after they broke up, which Rachel laughed at for nine minutes straight both times but Sarah took pretty well, because, like, if two different gay guys were willing to date Sarah before coming out, that just means she was a safe place for them to figure things out first, right? So Sarah has no problem with that. Really.
And it’s great that Rachel likes girls now. That just leaves more boys for Sarah! So yes, really, Sarah is totally supportive and very happy for her best friend. Rachel's gay and this changes absolutely nothing between them!
-
Movie night is slowly becoming every other night, so when Rachel misses it for the first time in two weeks Sarah tries not to be hurt because like, she canceled a little while ago for a guy she was seeing and Rachel was understanding about that so it's not fair for Sarah to be upset when Rachel does the same.
With Rachel curled up in her bed with a bowl of fried calamari, Sarah turns on Stan. "Where were you last night?" she asks, very successfully playing casual, fluffing up one of the throw pillows.
"Uh," says Rachel.
"Aww, don't be embarrassed! If it's a girl you know I'm cool with that."
"Uhhh, I was at. Stacy's." Rachel looks away.
Oh. "Oh," says Sarah. Realizing she sounds judgmental, and maybe she is judging Rachel, which isn't very girl code of her, she tacks on, "I didn't know… married women were your thing."
"There's a lot you don't know about me," Rachel says defensively, "What'd I say last time? Maybe if you asked more questions you'd know more about my life."
"Right, yeah, sorry."
After the movie, Sarah checks her phone. "Demi is playing a set at the Steffie club downtown in an hour," she comments, "Do you wanna watch them perform?" What she doesn't mention is the club on Steffie is one of the remaining functions downtown without protection spells against Rachel installed, because, like. That's implied. And she doesn't want to be rude by bringing that up.
Rachel says, "Which one is Demi again?"
"You went to junior high with them," Sarah says, "I met them through you like, last year?"
Rachel squints. "That the kid who launched a firework through Tyler's kitchen skylight last Christmas?"
"I think so."
"Shit, yeah. That was fuckin' awesome. Yeah, let's watch their set!"
Sarah debates ordering a Roober, but she does the maths on Goregle maps and it's only a fifteen minute walk, so they set out together.
It's beautiful tonight, and if Sarah looks hard enough, she thinks she can see the stars.
At the club, she hugs Demi before they go on and says she's so proud and can't wait to hear their music in action. Demi explains they're just a DJ, so they just push buttons and other people's music comes out. She says well I'm sure your remixes are great. Demi says not really.
Sarah gets an overpriced water and skims the crowd until she finds Rachel, who ran off almost immediately, and she blanches when she sees that Rachel is making out really sloppy-style, like, spit leaking down their faces walking into the wall, with some alt girl in Demonias.
Sarah decides the polite thing to do is give them space, so she chats with a few people at the bar, finishes her water. She's not going to say anything at all until Rachel and her girl crash directly into her barstool and she has to.
Sarah dusts herself off discreetly. "Hi Rachel!"
Rachel detaches her mouth from the girl's. "Hey Sarah," she says calmly. "This is Shae. Shae, say hello to my Sarah."
"Heyyyy," says the girl Rachel was just kissing.
"Hello," Sarah waves politely. Why does she feel so twisted up inside? She's seen Rachel kiss, like, a dozen people- guys. Right? "It's nice to meet you."
Shae leans into Rachel's side with half-lidded eyes and a vacant smile, "You toooooo," she says, and okay, now that she thinks about it, Sarah can count the number of times she can really remember Rachel making out with a dude on one hand, but it never bothered her. "Your Sarah," Shae repeats, then she gestures a glittery finger between the two of them, "Are you two, you know?"
"What?" says Sarah.
"'Cause like, hot blonde and hot brunette at once," Shae giggles, "I mean, what dyke hasn't thought about it, am I right?"
"Oh." Sarah, as an LGBTQIA+ ally, is a little offended hearing the D word. Mostly on behalf of her lesbian best friend, even if she doesn't seem to mind.
"Don't fetishize Sarah like that," Rachel elbows her date really hard. Shae winces and laughs again.
"Um, no thank you, sorry, I'm gonna go dance some more, great talking to you girls, have fun, have a great rest of your night, love you Rachel, as besties, kisses, in a bestie way, um, bye!" Sarah clears out.
-
Okay, so.
Sarah isn’t upset that Rachel is hooking up with women, it’s the women she’s choosing. Like Stacy! Married Stacy! Rachel always hated her, didn't she? That was made very clear very early on, that Rachel fucking hates that fucking bitch, her words not Sarah's. So it was a little surprising when she said she went home with her. And Shae! Shae was so not Rachel's type. Well, Sarah doesn't actually know what Rachel's type in women is, really, but it can't be e-girls.
Rachel only mentions girls she hooks up with when Sarah actively asks, and she can't stop herself from asking and then getting upset when she receives an answer. And maybe Sarah is a little homophobic? Which is why she's feeling so weird about Rachel sleeping with women? And Sarah's the bad guy now? She doesn't really mean to let all this slip out, but on a call with Sharon and Pelekeen one Thursday evening, it just… does.
"SARAH! SARAH!" Peleeken gasps with undisguised delight, "Sarah, what if you're jealous!?"
"Jealous? Of… huh?"
"WHAT IF YOU DON'T WANT RACHEL TO BE KISSING GIRLS," Sharon shouts into the phone, "BECAUSE YOU WANT TO BE THE GIRL RACHEL IS KISSING?"
What.
"What?"
"Think about it!" Peleeken adds.
"But- I'm- I'm straight!"
"WHAT?" There's some vague chatter Sarah can't make out. "REALLY?"
"…yes?"
"NO OFFENSE SARAH, I ASSUMED YOU LIKED GIRLS SINCE WE WERE IN SECONDARY SCHOOL. THERE WAS YOU AND TRICIA, AND THEN YOU AND RACHEL. SEEMED PRETTY OBVIOUS YOU WANTED TO LEZ OUT. NO OFFENSE."
Peleeken says, "Well, if Sarah is straight, it can't be that, can it? So it's something else."
Sarah blinks very slowly. She sits down on her bed, glances at her ragged self in the mirror. Smeared lipstick, unbrushed hair, sleepy eyes. She's a mess. "Can I call you back?"
She hangs up without waiting for a reply.
When they go out a few days later, Sarah drinks a reasonable amount of Manhattans and watches Rachel aggressively make out with this girl she got into a wizard's duel with last month from across someone's living room and stews in it. So Rachel will kiss girls she claims to hate but not even look in Sarah's direction? Ugh. She's her own person, and Sarah is happy she's found her truth or whatever, but god, did it have to go like this?
Rachel calls them the Roober while Sarah hiccups into her shoulder. "You drank too much."
"Fourive drinks," Sarah says.
"Huh."
"Four and a half drinks. It's this new number I've been working on, four and a half, so between four and five. It's called fourive."
"This could be big," Rachel says.
"I thought so!"
"You could go to big television with that one."
On the ride home, Sarah has her wits about her enough to not ask hey, why are you hooking up with girls you hate and not with someone you actually like, at least as a friend, specifically me, because you should give that a shot, and instead lets Rachel show her some funny TikToks she bookmarked the other day. Sarah laughs at every single one. Rachel has the best sense of humor. God, she's so funny. Sarah is so lucky to be her friend.
The next morning Rachel brings Sarah a big, greasy fast food breakfast in bed, and Sarah eats ravenously even though she knows she'll have to change her bedsheets again right after even though she changed them a couple days ago. And when Rachel hands her a napkin and just looks at her with a funny little face, Sarah can't take it anymore.
"I have to tell you something."
Rachel immediately goes on guard. "What."
Deep breath. Just get it out. "I recently realized I'm attracted to you," Sarah says in a rush, "And I'm telling you now so it's not weird between us. I've been kind of jealous seeing you with other girls, you know, and I- finally realized what it was. And nothing has to be any different between us, but I thought you deserved to know."
They look at each other. Please say something, Sarah thinks. For a few horrible, horrible seconds, there is blank-faced silence. And then-
"Sarah," Rachel says, it bubbling out of her, "Are you fucking serious?" Her voice is bright and clear. It's not the sound of someone who's bothered to hear this.
"I am! I am serious!" Sarah giggles, oh god, this is actually going well.
"You're- Sarah, can I kiss you?"
Sarah sharp inhales. And then she kisses Rachel. It feels almost too easy; their mouths fit together perfectly, she tastes nostalgic, somehow, it's like coming home. She spent all that time worrying about what turned out to be the simplest thing in the world.
They kiss again and again, very soft, no tongue, they have all the time in the world to work their way up to that.
Rachel finally pulls back. Sarah restrains herself from gripping onto her to keep her close. Rachel is smiling. "Nice," she says lowly.
"Better than-" Sarah stops herself. This jealousy thing is getting to be a problem. She often gets jealous with boys, but this is Rachel.
"Speak up," Rachel says, "I can't hear you when you talk into your hands like that."
"Better than Stacy?" Sarah blurts out.
Rachel mumbles something.
"Huh?"
"I said I- ah. That may not have happened. For real. So."
"Huh? I thought-"
"Stacy's married, Sarah," Rachel sounds scandalized, like she would never intrude on the sanctity of marriage like that, and how dare Sarah think such a thing of her.
"Oh. Right." Sarah rearranges some thoughts in her mind. "The other girls you talked about? Were those…?"
"Most of them happened. Yeah." Sarah's shoulders slump. "But it was just, you know. Hate-fucking.”
“Hate-fucking.”
“I was never in love with them. Not like-“ Rachel stops herself.
“Like what?”
“You know.” Rachel looks down. Her face is red. “Like with you.”
“Oh,” says Sarah. Logically, she knew Rachel was attracted to her. In a gay way. She wouldn't have kissed her if she wasn't. But hearing her indirectly say she’s in love with Sarah is- wow! Wow. She can’t stop herself from smiling. Then she kisses her again. Sarah loves kissing, always has, and she can't believe she hadn't thought about kissing her best friend before all this started, her favorite person in the world.
"Wait," Rachel pulls back for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her mouth before she continues, "Does this mean we're dating now?"
Sarah grins and wraps her arms around her best friend. "Yeah, Rachel. We're dating now."