Boo: I'm done.

Sasha: I'm already outside.

"That was fast."

"I dumped my dad off and then came right back."

"Right."

Boo put her seatbelt on, trying to gauge what kind of mood her friend was in. Her face was smooth and carefully neutral, but her hands gripped the steering wheel and the gear shift a little too tightly. In regular Sasha circumstances, this would mean that she was best left alone until she did whatever she needed to cool off. If she wasn't given space, she would give everyone else hell until she got it. Which didn't apply here because she'd volunteered to pick Boo up. Boo assumed she wanted to talk. Or, more likely, vent. Vent and possibly cuss Boo out for getting involved in her business.

"Sasha..."

"Don't." Boo thought she detected a hint of a sob, but it was quickly masked by harshness. "Don't say anything. I'm dropping you off and then we're even, got it?"

"Even? For what?"

"For you not telling anyone about tonight."

"Sasha, I would never..."

"Don't pretend you're not going to text Mel and Ginny and Charlie and Carl and Godot and God knows who else as soon as you get home-"

"Sasha-bear! Just for two seconds, would you listen to me?"

Sasha's BMW screeched to a halt.

"What did you just call me?" she asked icily.

"I called you Sasha-bear. Yes, I know that's what your dad calls you. Yes, I know things aren't totally awesome with him right now. But Sasha, do you know how hard it is to watch you like this? To see you lashing out at everyone and everything around you because you're hurting? I don't want you to give me a ride home because you want me to keep my mouth shut. Just talk to me! Tell me what's going on in your head! I would walk home barefoot in the snow if you would just talk instead of clawing at me!"

Boo took a calming breath. "Whatever's going on, it needs to come out. You don't talk to anyone. I know you don't. You've never talked to your parents about anything ever. You could talk to Madame Fanny, she adores you, Sasha, but you'd rather break her rules and test her boundaries to see if she'll still love you when you're being impossible. You haven't really talked to Ginny and Mel since the whole bitch conversation. You could've talked to Michelle, but after she gave you that beating down, you don't want anything to do with her. I think she could really help you.

"Sasha, tell me what's going on. I've never done anything to hurt you. I want to help you so much. Let me. Please. I'm just sweet, stupid Boo. Nothing you say will leave this car and even if it did, no one would believe me."

Silence followed the girl's outburst as she tried to figure out what exactly had possessed her to push every single one of her friend's buttons. She stared at her hands in her lap, waiting for the onslaught of abuse. Sasha said and did nothing, but continued on the way to Boo's house.

"You're not," she said suddenly.

"What?"

Boo looked up in surprise to see Sasha running her fingers along the edge of the steering wheel.

"You're not stupid, Boo." Her voice was low.

Neither of them said anything for a long while. When Sasha pulled into Boo's driveway, Boo could tell intuitively that Sasha needed some sort of physical contact. A touch, a hug, something to jar her emotions loose so she could talk freely. But the brunette wouldn't ask for it and Boo knew she couldn't initiate it herself unless she wanted another dose of cold shoulder.

"Well," she spoke softly, "thanks for the ride. I'll see you tomorrow."

Without waiting for a reply, she got out of the car and headed to the doorstep.

"Boo, wait!"

Boo turned around, surprised to see Sasha jogging up to her. When she got within a foot or so, she stopped and put her hands in her pockets, staring at Boo's feet.

"I'm sorry I'm being an idiot. I want to talk to you, really I do, but I just don't know what to say."

She looked up and Boo could see pain in her brown eyes. Sasha could mold every other aspect of herself to make everyone else think she was on top of everything, but her eyes always betrayed her.

"Just say what you're feeling, Sasha-bear."

"I like you," Sasha blurted after a minute of silence.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"No, I...like like you. Like-"

Before Boo could even blink, Sasha's hand was on her cheek and she was staring into those pained eyes. Then she felt Sasha's lips on hers, kissing her softly, as if she was afraid Boo would break. It was different than she would've imagined. (If she'd ever imagined anything like that. Ever. Which she hadn't. At least not that she would admit to anyone, even herself.) She would've thought Sasha would be a passionate, hard kisser, the kind that left both gasping for air. Possibly a lot of unbridled tongue. But she kissed like she danced; a seemingly paradoxical balance of power and delicacy.

And then it hit her.

Sasha.

Torres.

Was.

Kissing.

Her.

Her hands came up and she pushed Sasha away.

"What the heck was that?!" she demanded, her rarely used freak-out mode engaging. "How could you...what in the...You know how I feel about Charlie, Sasha! And Carl! I may be messed up, but I'm not a lesbian!"

"Boo, I-"

"You could've at least come out of the closet first, maybe told me how you felt and why you felt it and how long you've been feeling it, instead of just kissing me like that! I've got enough drama to deal with without my best friend springing something like that on me out of nowhere!"

Without waiting for a response, Boo marched into her house without so much as a backwards glance.

She was in her room before she realized that she was shaking and her cheeks were wet.