Chapter 1
We started in the opposite direction which friendships between girls are normally formed, fuck, friendship was definitely the last thing on my mind at the start. She wasn't just some random girl swept up from the side of the street, she was my high school 'best friend's, (okay I say 'best friend' because she referred me to as her best friend, but I didn't.), childhood best friend. She was definitely not a random. She was interwoven from the start. What she was though was that girl in the background, the underlying life of the party, the one you always thought was cute, but did nothing about it because you were 99% sure she was straight. I mean one of the big hints was that she brought her serious boyfriend to Rachel's parties and I only saw her about three times a year since she went to Carmel instead of McKinley. Even though we clicked, I thought there was no way she'd be curious enough to try, let alone to try with me. Because that's every gay girl's fantasy right? That cute straight friend that you kinda like wants to get all experimental and you are over here waving a bright flashing neon rainbow flag like hey, guess who doesn't mind being your test subject. Because who knows, maybe, just maybe you can get to seduce her with your 'friendly safe' shappic charm.
Safe to say, the more instances I saw her, the further that ship sailed.
Or so I thought.
It was a couple of months after serious boyfriend, cheated and unceremoniously dumped her for some blonde bimbo with bigger boobs. Yeah, I'm pretty sure he had brain damage when the broke up with her and with that broke her, completely in every sense and form.
Note to Self: If I ever formally meet him I would go all Fifth Harmony on his ass and I would hit him like a sledgehammer and then actually hit him with a sledgehammer.
That's when the hints started.
Flashback:
11 months ago
We met at Rachel's infamous barbeques a year ago. She wasn't your common Upper East-Sider even though she went to prestigious school of Carmel. She loved everyone and everyone loved her even though we only saw her now and again at Rachel's house. Our friendship was based on the mutual pumping of alcohol in our veins.
It's only 2 in the afternoon but alcohol kept being poured out into red solo cups, whether it is beer, wine or rum, it all kept flowing. Hayley Williams' voice mixed with ZEDD's electronic beats played in the background as the song switched to Stay The Night. Rachel's boytoy that everyone seemed to hate, Brody, was standing at the BBQ pit talking with a bunch of his muscular douche bag friends that tagged along. Safe to say we all stay clear from that area. Hanna*, Rachel's sister was sitting in the chair next to me andQuinn was sitting on my lap as I leaned back in my chair. A couple more mutual friends and acquaintances started spilling in. That's when I saw her enter the back yard, with a smile and a wave from both sides she made her way to Rachel. An hour passed and it seemed like Rachel's back yard was filled to the brim with bodies, alcohol and cigarette smoke found in almost every crevice. I was sitting in a chair now closer to the BBQ pit struggling to light a cigarette with a cup filled with beer. That's when she finally made her way over.
"You know I'm Rachel's best friend, but you're actually really fucking amazing." She laughs as she falls into my lap with a red solo that's been super glued to her hand almost the entire night.
"You're such a fucking alcoholic." I try and pry the plastic cup from her tanned fingers but she moves the cup out of my reach.
"I know." She says with a brightened smile and closed eyes. "But seriously though you're awesome and clearly someone else thinks so too…" She trails off and nods her head to her left where in the corner of my eye I see a short, light haired girl eyeing me up and down wearing a plaid shirt. Well… Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason.
"Really?" I quirked up a smiled at her as she wiggles her ass as made she comfortable on my lap. Fuuuuck.
"Yup! She's totally into you." She stops as she takes another sip of whatever concoction she brewed up earlier.
"Errr no thanks." I chuckled softly as I rolled my eyes at her. She turned and looked at me with a narrow look.
"Is it about Stacey?" The name falls from her lips and I tense up under her.
I haven't heard anyone else say that name in about 6 months. Stacey was living it up in another town, in another state with probably zero thought about me and lately she's been a constant fixture in my mind. It's lke she didn't even think of renting a place, because I'm 103% sure she fucking bought property there. Sigh. You know what they say? Out of sight, out of mind? That completely backfired on me.
"No." As the word leaves my mouth I hear her scoff instantly and her body turns away from me.
Hold. The. Fuck. Up.
"How the fuck do you know anyway?"
"Rachel." The brunette says sheepishly as she takes her place in the chair next to me as Quinn leaves it vacant.
"Whatever..." I sigh loudly over the bass of some Trey Song's song. "I just wanted to have a chilled night, i don't need some chick who looks like she's about to hump my leg."
"Be sure to wear protection!" I slap her arm playfully and the alcohol from her cup spills on to my naked arm.
"You better clean that up." I say with a twinkle in my eye and a tipsy challenge in my tone. She takes the feigned bait as she takes this as an opportunity to lick my arm clean, leaving a trail of goosebumbs in the wake.
"Either you're an actual fucking alcoholic or you were just waiting for you to put your tongue on me?" I say with a smirk playing my lips.
"And here I thought I was being subtle." Her dark eyes wink at me as something unknown and mysterious flashes behind her eyes.
She was one of those straight girls that fuck up a gay girl's gaydar. Like sometimes you'd think she's straight as a fucking arrow in Katniss arrow pouch and then there are moments like these where you don't know what the fuck is going on. Because the next thing I know I'm on the make shift dance floor in the garage with her grinding on me while Queen Bey's Partition plays in the background. She sways her hips to the beat and she pulls my hands from behind her and intertwines our fingers as they rest on her stomach. I see the girl from earlier glaring at us from across the floor.
"So much for a drama free night." She says as she turns around in my arms, still moving her hips to the timed beats.
"You totally need to be my fake girlfriend for tonight because I really don't want her skanky broke ass to trap me in a hallway somewhere where she can throw me in her sex cage." I say as the sexy brunette in front of me grabs around to me and pulls my hands around her waist.
"Got it Charlie. Keep her ratchet ass away from you."
"Seriously you guys, get a room!" Rachel screeches from across the through above Beyonce's voice that drips with seduction.
"You just jealous that you're not her, Rach." I stick out my tongue playfully as I see a few guys taken notice at us on the make-shift dance floor.
Hand prints and foot prints on my glass
Hand prints and good grips all on my ass.
DROP!
Suddenly hands drops down and clutches my ass and pulls me further forward. I look up and see red lips twist into an innocent, but mischievously smile. We have this flirty friendship going on, but sometimes I wonder what's going on in her head because the last time I had such a "touchy" friend, she turned out to be my first love, but I got a feeling this is how normal girly friendships are. Just the drunk, touchy kind.
And things were totally fine up until then. I shrugged it off to everybody being drunk, because you really do the stupidest shit while drunk. So what's some ass grabbing between drunken girl-friends right? God, sometimes I hate being this gay.
Until one night two or so months later, she invited me and Rachel to meet one of her… friends at this local bar in downtown Brooklyn called, The Shack. At the last minute Rachel couldn't make because Brody decided to surprise her with chocolates and a movie. What the actual fuck. I know. So it was just me and her.
Flashback
9 months later
I step away from the booth all of us were sitting in as i got up and went over to the bar four feet away.
"What can I get ya, darlin'?" The lean, dirty blonde haired bartender asks me with a slight southern drawl as he does this really cliché bartender move and cleans a glass with the nasty rag that was probably finding purchase on his shoulder then entire night.
"Uhm, two beers please." I pause after a second. "Corona." I finalise to him with a small nod.
"Comin' riiiight up." His light green eyes shine at me before he his lips turn into a slight smile before he makes his way and he gets the two beers from the fridge at the back.
"I wanna make out with you!" She mummers behind me for about the fifth time tonight as I wait for the bartender to give me the two Corona's I ordered for us. She's been making such comments for about the past twenty or so minutes. Is this straight girl still trying to hit on me?
"How drunk are you right now?" I end my sentence with a giggle as I turn around away from the bar and face her. My eyes instantly find her slowly swaying her body around to the beat as the remix of Katy Perry's song E.T plays in the practically empty bar we were in.
"Tipsy." When the words flew from her mouth I realised something. She was a fucking light weight. We had two beers in the past 45 minutes. I was stone cold sober. The alcohol felt like it evaporated out of my body 15 minutes ago and here she was eyes closed, swaying to Katy's alien beats, rapping Kanye West's lyrics.
"Tell me what's next? Alien sex? Imma disrobe you then Imma probe you. See I abducted you so I'll tell you what to do." She raps each lyric perfectly without a hiccup.
Who is she?
"Kiss me. Kiss me. Infect me with your love and fill me with your poison." She sings with a raspy tone I've never heard as she opens her eyes and looks at me. All I can do is watch her entire form and hold onto both of my, now, forgotten beers that miraculously appeared. "You're an alien, your touch so foreign." Her dark eyes reflected with the neon signs from the bar behind me. She looked so… "It's supernatural, extra-terrestrial."
Exactly.
Who was this girl seriously? Black hair, light caramel skin, mocha eyes, flat stomach, long legs, plump lips, a voice I can never stop listening to and can rap the shit out of a Kanye West verse. How have I never noticed this before?
"Is that mine?" My eyes finally flicker up to hers that are now looking at the beers in my hand. I don't even remember fucking paying for it, but who cares.
"Yup, but I'm not sure I should give you more…" I chuckle as I see the confused look take over her features. "You're coming up with all sorts of crazy things to do."
"You mean me wanting to make out with you? That's not a crazy thing and I'm not drunk. I'm just curious for you." She raises an eyebrow at me as she takes the few steps and lightly takes the beer out of my right finger tips.
"Did you just quote I Kissed a Girl?"
"What's wrong with me wanting to kiss you? I mean if Stacey liked it so much…" She trails off naming her elementary school best friend, and my high school first kiss and heartbreak. "Why won't I?"
"You are fucking insane." You bluff at her as your heart starts beating erratically at the possibilities of what could happen tonight. Maybe, it's the start of something new.
Urgh, fuck you High School Musical. Years later and I still can't escape you.
After about forty minutes of me trying to get drunk and watching her basically engulfed in old sex man's mouth. Like seriously, he was old, he was 35 and we were barely 21. It seems The Start of Something New, started changing to I Gotta Go My Own Way to my gay girl's fantasies because clearly that was not something happening tonight and that was clearly the alcohol talking. Zero to midway through High School Musical 2 real quick.
"Hey, you want some more?" One of sex man's friends offers the pitcher of beer in my direction.
Yay, alcohol.
"Definitely." To survive this night I have to drown all my hopes and dreams in this lovely big ass pitcher of beer. I'm gonna be so hungover. It will be worth it.
The random guy sitting in the booth next to me grabs my glass from the table in front of us and fills up my glass. I give him a grateful smile as I make animate small talk with him about… fuck knows. I'm tipsy. About half way through my refilled glass, something, or rather someone taps me on the leg. I look up, it's her.
"Coming up for air?" I sarcastically joke as I lean back into the booth.
"Actually I need to go to the bathroom. Come with me." She says more as a statement then a question. She's already out the booth when her sentence is done. I put my drink down and slowly get out of the booth aswell. As I get to her, her finger blindly reach out and intertwines with my fingers. Whaaaaaat… I look down instantly, then back up to her. No change. Urgh.
Because the bar is upstairs, they had a great idea to have some fucking giant stairs and put the bathroom on the ground floor. These people, fucking geniuses.
"Slippery when wet." Her voice bubbles out with a laugh out as we walk down the stairs still hand in hand. She points over to the large white sign in black lettering: CAUTION: SLIPPERY WHEN WET
"I'm sure that sign applies to you too?" Her brunette hair waves quickly as her head spins to face me. We stop half way down the stairs.
"We'll just have to find out, wont we?"
Fucking straight girls fucking up your gaydar. Fuck.
Laughter fills the air and alcohol dazes our mind as we make our way down the rest of the stairs and we find out that directly under the stairs is the bathroom. As both of us step into the bathroom, I lock the door and she pulls down her pants without warning.
"Stripping for me already?" I laugh as I lean my head slightly against the door and I close my eyes. Okay, maybe I am a little drunk.
"If I was, it wouldn't be in some dive bar and you'd be tied to a chair." She says with a shade of finality tone, proven by the smirk in her red lips.
"Touché."
"You know…" she says as I hear the toilet flush somewhere in the background. Her voice sounds closer than before. "You still haven't answered my question. Why won't you kiss me?"
"Uhmmm…" My fuzzy mind searches for a reason for this not to happen. "Your best friend would fucking kill both of us." I shoot off an answer because I got a feeling you wouldn't want your high school best friend and childhood best friend making out in some bathroom. She would freak.
"She won't find out." I feel the seductive brunette's presence in front of me now, but I still don't open my eyes. "I'll show you she won't."
"Ha!" A nervous laugh rises up from my throat to my dry lips.
"You don't have the balls." I whisper mockingly, urging her to make the first move.
My empty threat falls on deaf ears as her lips encase my bottom lip in a sweet kiss. She keeps her lips there and let's go with a soft smack. Did she seriously just… My eyes flutter open and it instantly locks onto her. She standing there leather jacket, grey studded jeans, and a white top, dark curled hair with her blood red lips caught in a smirk under dimly lit light.
"You were saying?"
Next thing I know I have her pressed up against the side of the wall next to the sink. My lips pulled on her bottom lip as her hands go directly into my hair. My hands move from the wall and trail down the outside of her leather jacket onto her hips. Her tongue slips over my lips and I give her entry without a second thought. As my tongue brushes against hers for the first time, my hands grip further down to her ass and I feel her hips slowly grind into me. Holy Fuck.
"I've been wanting to do that ever since Rachel told me about Stacey." She says softly as she releases my top lip. Who the fuck is… oh yeah. Her. First love and all that. Psshhh I knew that.
"That was two months ago…" I pull a bit out of her personal space and look at something swirling in her eyes. "Why now?"
"I thought you would reject me." Reject her? Does she not know how fucking hot she is? I mean even if I wasn't gay I would do anything she'd ask.
"Well." My hands find purchase on the wall behind her as I further myself in her personal space again. My lips press against hers softly. "Now you know better."
We went back up stairs to the bar and she basically stuck her tongue down old sex man's throat again, yeah, that was disgusting. But I was drunk and if I would only get her for one night then I would make the most of it. And I did. Every opportunity we got, one of us got pulled the other into the bathroom.
The first time we kissed was what I thought was going to be, the first and last time. I mean what do you expect when out of absolutely nowhere, that hot friend, on a… well meeting with her old sex friend, suggest you make out with each other. You gonna do what your super gay heart tells you, which is at first deny the request, blame it on the alcohol, and go in for the kill. I mean cover all your bases if in the morning she regrets it happening. I mean you tried to say no, that counts for something right?
Anyway…
I mean why she would want to make out with you when she could have her fuck buddy literally in the palm of her hand about three feet away.
This is how we started and I was so wrong about the whole 'one night only' thing.
Present
So here I am, nine months later, still seduced by the hotness. She became the fucking enigma that reminds you of Taylor Swift lyrics. She is that blank space and definitely a nightmare dressed up like a daydream. She would fuck your mind, body and soul up in such a way that you think it's your fault. She can and she sure as fuck did.
She's the type of girl you'd think your 'best friend' would warn you about. Clearly, not or maybe Rachel was just salty as fuck when she found out about us two weeks later. Because I had to learn the one thing about her, that under that awesome personality, the bright smile, the good taste in music and fucking amazing body was that…
She was fucking insane.
And I don't mean in the oh yeah, she's super insane; my girl wants to party all the time. Woooh! I mean in the legit sense where she's fucking insane. Starting fights left, right and centre. Pulling reasons to start shit out of thin air. Jumping to conclusions like it's a fucking Olympic sport, and she's the gold medal winner and world record holder. God, why did the hot ones always have to be crazy?
Though not a single person so much as warned me about the hurricane coming my way. Not her best friend for 17 years, not her high school best friend, not her ex-that-became-her-friend, not her sister, no one warned me.
No one warned me that Santana Lopez was the reason why storms are named after people.