Warning: One character has a panic attack and it is described quite explicitly, so if you find that triggering then I suggest you don't read on.
This is my take on what happens in the 'Threesome Episode' that's coming up later in the season.
I own nothing.
Amy doesn't understand how she got here.
She doesn't understand how she ended up in Liam Booker's room. She doesn't understand how she ended up in ridiculous lingerie Karma had bought. She doesn't understand how she ended up with Karma's hands on her waist.
And yet, here she is.
She's vaguely aware that, at some point in the last twenty four hours, Karma approached her and opened her mouth to request the last thing Amy ever thought she would hear.
'A threesome?' She had repeated, convinced she couldn't possibly have heard the other girl correctly.
But then Karma was smiling broadly and nodding, trying to convince Amy that it was ingenious and 'how had I never thought of this before?'
She's also distantly aware that, for some reason she would never comprehend, she had agreed. Maybe because she was tired of running from everything. Maybe because she still wanted to make Karma happy. Or maybe she had got swept up in the idea that this arrangement would involve a noticeable lack of clothing and a (hopefully) even more apparent amount of moaning.
(Damn her teenage hormones.)
Of course the moment she had dropped the ridiculous trench coat to reveal her skimpy (and itchy, it sure as hell better be refundable) underwear, and watched Liam take the two of them in with widened eyes, looking as though Christmas (and possibly himself) had come early, she knew she had made a huge mistake.
But then Karma had tangled her hand in her hair and kissed her. It was different than usual: harder, needier. Usually Amy would be thrilled with this development, but she was pretty sure it was so Liam got a good show.
She felt sick.
Then Karma was pulling away. At some point Liam had come up behind her and was kissing her neck, his hands exploring her exposed skin.
Amy watched them.
Karma had her eyes closed, and tiny breathy gasps were escaping her lips. Her hand was locked around Amy's wrist, tightening in response to Liam's actions.
Was this Karma trying to keep Amy involved? She was going to hold Amy's hand while Liam did things to her that Amy had been feeling guilty over wanting for the last few weeks? This was wrong. This was so wrong.
She watched, frozen, as Liam's hand toyed with the band of Karma's underwear, and that's when Amy realised.
She was in love with Karma.
She was in love with her straight best friend, and she was about to watch her have sex with someone she couldn't stand. Someone that wasn't her.
She quickly yanked her hand away from Karma's grip, almost falling backwards with the force of the action. This managed to draw Karma's attention away from Liam, looking at the other girl with a confused expression.
'Amy?' She asked.
'I,' Amy struggled to get the words out. Her head was swimming. 'I can't do this. This was a mistake. I-.'
She reached down to grab her coat, pulling it on hastily and tightening it with shaking hands.
Karma took a step towards her, her hand reaching out. 'Amy, what are yo-,'
'I'm sorry,' Amy cut her off. 'God, I'm so sorry.'
I'm sorry for leaving. I'm sorry for going along with this. I'm sorry for being in love with you.
Karma reached for her again, Liam standing behind her looking concerned. But Amy ignored them both, all but running for the door, and nearly tripped on her way down the stairs. She had to get out. It was too hot, she had to get out.
And suddenly she was hit with the evening air as she slammed the front door shut and hurried down the sidewalk. This wasn't much better, though. Texas nights were always too hot. Her cheeks were particularly hot. She reached up and felt wetness. At some point in the last five minutes she'd started crying and not even realised. God, she hopes they didn't see her cry.
How did this happen? Everything was such a mess, it wasn't supposed to be like this. Amy wasn't supposed to be gay. She wasn't supposed to be in love with Karma. Her best friend. She'd fucked it up, she'd fucked it all up.
All these thoughts kept going round and round in her head, and she couldn't shut them off. Every time she tried to make them go away, her head was filled with images of Karma. Karma smiling at her on nights they'd spent at each other's houses growing up. Karma smiling before she kissed her, making sure everyone else saw. Karma kissing Liam; kissing Liam because she wanted to, and not because she had to.
Somehow Amy had managed to find her way home, and was now scrambling for the spare key under the welcome mat. She tried to unlock the door but her hands were shaking and she couldn't get it into the lock. She knew her mom and Bruce were out tonight, so she had no other way of getting in. Usually she would just go to Karma's if she locked herself out, but she definitely couldn't do that now.
Her breathing was uneven and she realised she was struggling to bring air into her lungs. She took a deep breath and managed to steady herself just long enough to force the key into the lock and turn it.
She practically fell through the door, throwing her key onto the nearby table and kicking her shoes off. Her chest ached and the stairs seemed so far away. They also seemed kind of blurry. Why were they blurry?
Her back hit the door and her knees buckled. Was that going to bruise? That would probably bruise. She remembers when Karma fell off a swing and bruised the whole left side of her ribs. Where was Karma? Why wasn't she here? Why was her head filled with a rushing noise?
'Amy?'
Karma?
'Amy, look at me,' a voice called.
That doesn't sound like Karma. Amy whines, trying to get away from the voice. She just wants Karma.
'You have to breath. Amy, please look at me.'
Wait, she does know that voice.
'Lauren?' she croaks. She raises her head to see Lauren peering at her. She looked concerned. She's never seen Lauren look worried. Was something wrong?
'Yes, it's Lauren. You have to try and take deep breaths, okay? Just breath with me, look.' She watched as Lauren took a large breath in and tried to copy her. 'That's it, just do that some more. You can do it.'
Seven deep breaths later Amy's vision began to clear and her heart was returning to its normal rate. She looked at Lauren as if she was seeing her for the first time.
'Lauren? What-,' she stutters, talking still seems kind of difficult. 'What happened?'
'You had a panic attack,' Lauren replies. 'I heard a noise and came down to find you slumped against the door.'
'I-,' Amy has absolutely no idea how to comprehend this. Any of this. 'I'm confused. How did you know?'
Lauren wets her lips, her eyes darting above her, staring at some spot on the wall. 'I used to get them. Amy raises a questioning eyebrow. Lauren's eyes meet her own again. 'When my mom passed away.'
Amy opens her mouth but, realising she has no idea what to say to that, closes it again. The silence hangs between the two girls, the both of them in a crumpled heap on the floor; Amy in her over-sized coat and Lauren in one of her perfect, pink mini-skirts.
Eventually Amy speaks. 'Why did you-,' she trails off, feeling insecure.
'Help?' Lauren supplies. Amy nods. 'Look, I know that I'm a bitch. And I'm unapologetic about that, because I don't care what anyone says, I'm good at it. And I know that we can't stand each other. But I also know how horrible those things are, and I wasn't going to let you experience that alone. I wouldn't wish that one anyone.'
Amy just looks at her, completely at a loss for words. Taking the initiative, Lauren stands up, brushing invisible dust off of her skirt, and holds her hand out for Amy to take. 'Come on, let's get you upstairs.'
Still speechless, Amy stares at the outstretched hand for a moment, before accepting it and heaving herself up. She's unsteady on her legs and Lauren puts a hand on her back, guiding her up the stairs. When they reach Amy's room she pulls the covers back so Amy can get into bed, coat and all. She makes sure Amy seems comfortable enough before heading over to the door and turning the light off. She turns to leave, but seems to think of something before turning back.
'Look, I'm not going to ask what caused this. But just-,' she pauses for a moment, trying to think of the best way to say this. 'Just don't do anything stupid to get yourself hurt, okay? It's not worth it.'
She turns back again, and just as she's about to shut the door, Amy finally speaks up.
'Thank you.'
'Don't mention it. No, seriously, don't. I have a reputation to uphold,' she says with a familiar smirk, though her eyes are softer than Amy's ever seen them before. 'We can go back to hating each other tomorrow.'
And with that, she's gone, leaving Amy in the darkness of the room.
There's still so much going round in Amy's mind, but her body is so exhausted that she finds herself drifting off to sleep almost instantly.
She's not looking forward to tomorrow, but for now she allows herself to succumb to a few, safe hours of rest.
She'll face the next day as it comes. No matter what the morning light brings with it.
On the other side of the room, her phone goes off, silently but persistently. Eventually it stops, the screen lighting up with its most recent notification.
You Have 12 New Voicemails From:
Karma Ashcroft.
It doesn't wake Amy up.