A/N: This jumps back and forth between Amy and Sabrina, the day before and the night of the Ho-Ho-Holiday party (the one in the promo for this week).
NOW
Four days. That's all you got.
It's less than you thought, certainly less than you hoped, but in some ways… well, it's just about right. It came in a rush, it's only fitting that it end in one too.
With Reagan, you got a couple of weeks. Time enough for bowling dates and sneaking into a DJ gig or two and an Orphan Black marathon at her apartment (that only half turned into a making out marathon.) Two weeks was long enough to meet her friends and to find out (much to your surprise) that you could have a life outside of Karma and outside of Hester and outside of the bubble you'd hid yourself away in.
It didn't last and you know all the reasons why. It fractured and it cracked, but it was a slow break and you used to think that made it worse (you know better now) and that - for the most part - was your fault. You were never honest, not entirely (and half a truth is still all a lie), not with either of them. You kept Reagan away from Karma and kept Karma a secret from Reagan and yeah, you owned up (eventually) (when you didn't have any other choice) and yeah, you took Reagan's side, at first, and made Karma butt the hell out.
But you knew then and you know now. It was too little, too late. The damage had already been done.
You do have to give Reagan credit though, she tried, she never said it, not in those words at least. Yes, she complained about Karma (and yes, you know anyone you ever date is likely to complain about Karma) (or her about them) (or both) (probably both) but it was never about the lie and always about something else. Karma took up too much of your time, she was always there (even when she wasn't), she was a walking talking breathing one hour TV drama and, really, what nineteen year old out on her own and making her way in the world wants that kind of headache hanging around?
Reagan did say that (most of it, anyway) but she never said the other, she never said what you knew was really on her mind. She never mentioned the crack that formed that night at Communal, the one that ate away at the foundation of whatever you two might have been.
She never once said she couldn't trust you (at least not until the end and by then it wasn't about that.)
But she never said she did, either.
It ended badly (like there's any other way) but at least with her, you got those weeks. You got some time when she was yours and you were hers and there was something, some little tiny part of your life that was just that. Your life. Something you could nurture and grow and make as much (or as little) of as you wanted. It wasn't about your mother's failed marriages or you new insta-stepsister and it wasn't about popularity and being Queen of anything and it wasn't about her.
It wasn't about anything except you. That's what those weeks were. Just for you.
It's been months since you broke up and yeah, you know it was for the best and you know that Karma or no Karma, you and Reagan were never going to last. But you still think fondly of her and you still miss her sometimes (late at night) (when it's quiet and there's nothing to distract you and you can't help but remember) but out of it all? That's what you miss the most.
Those weeks. The weeks before the entirety of the rest of the world (and yes, you mean - mostly - her) came crashing down on you and you weren't strong enough or honest enough or ready enough.
You were so sure the next time would be better, you were so sure you wouldn't make those same mistakes. There would be no secrets (OK, maybe not no secrets) (fewer) (definitely fewer) and there would be no lies (or half a truths) and - most importantly - there would be no hiding. None. Not on the other side of town or behind apartment walls or in your bedroom late at night when you knew Karma was already asleep and there was no chance she'd come barging through your door.
You'd never really been in the closet and you had no desire to start now.
So, yeah… you were sure this time would be better. You even had a plan, simple as it was. It was really only one step.
Tell Karma.
Tell Karma early and tell Karma often and tell Karma that it was your life and your decision and that just because you might want to spend some (a lot) of time with this new person (girl) (it was always a girl in your head) that didn't mean you didn't want to spend time with her too or that she was being squeezed out of your life or that someone was trying to take her place.
(You've never understood how Karma could think anyone would want her place.)
Yes, telling Karma would mean no few weeks. It would mean that special and wonderful time that was just yours would be less that and more yours and hers and this new person (girl) (stop pussy footing around it) (no pun… yeah, pun intended.) But that would be OK. Maybe you wouldn't have the time before you told Karma but you'd have all the time after, the time you and Reagan lost because that crack was always there and you never knew how to patch it.
That was your plan. And you were so ready for it. Right up until you weren't.
Right up until you found yourself in between kisses and Sabrina was right there and the words were right somewhere else and the best you could manage was "These last four days have been…"
You wanted to day something cheesy (the word magical lept to mind) (you're such a Ted fucking Mosby) but you didn't want to scare her or pressure her. You didn't want to be the stereotype and drive an emotional U-Haul right up onto the bed between you.
So…
"They've been…"
(God, you sucked.)
"Perfect," she said and you felt a weight slip away (she was as bad as you.)
You tipped your head back so you could look at her. There was this smile on her face and for a moment (like three seconds) (that felt like three years) your heart just fucking stopped. You knew that smile. You'd seen that smile.
For two fucking weeks. On your face. Every time you looked at Reagan. It was bashful and unsure and hopeful and terrified and smitten and 'oh God, please say you agree so I don't break right here in front of you'. Looking at Sabrina was like looking in a mirror.
(Except you'd never once had the urge to kiss a mirror.)
(And you had the urge to kiss her.) (All. The. Fucking. Time.)
"I was gonna go with magical," you said. "But perfect works too. A little less David Blaine but…"
She laughed as leaned in to kiss you and when her lips found yours it was… different. Different than Karma (thank God) or Reagan or… anyone, really. Kissing catwoman (and fuck, did that seem like years ago) was hot and sexy and a little dirty (what with the boob touching and all) but it had never felt like it would matter once you stopped.
And it hadn't.
It had been the same with every girl you'd kissed over the summer - those one the bus and those not - the kisses were good (more than good) (necessary) but they'd all been temporary, fleeting, moments you'd look back on fondly, but that was all they were.
They were the start and the end, all in one. Even kissing Reagan was like that, sometimes, cause you knew - right from the start - that there was an expiration date. You pushed it back, you stalled, you delayed the inevitable as long as it could be delayed.
But you knew.
There's a reason they're called first loves. (And yes, you know Reagan wasn't your first love, but she was the first to love you back - like that - and that fucking counts.)
Sabrina wasn't that. She was a start but (you thought) not an end. She wasn't a hookup or a reboot or summer escape or the way to fill a (Karma shaped) hole in your heart. You didn't know what she was, not exactly, but you knew it wasn't any of that, and for the first time in a long time you were aching to find out exactly what she was.
Which is why you knew you had to tell Karma, because that was the only way those four days might have had a chance, a shot at being something more. Four weeks or four months or four years or four china patterns to pick from or four venues to choose between or four cakes to taste (all nut free, of course) and yeah, you knew (and know) that your heart tends to get a little ahead of itself sometimes.
Karma's not the only hopeless romantic.
You had to tell her,you know that. And you (and by 'you', you meant you and Sabrina) had to weather the storm, you had to stand your ground in the face of Hurricane Karma and you thought (you silly silly girl) that this time you were prepared, that this time you could take it.
Karma's standing just outside your bedroom door and Felix is sitting on your bed and you think he might be crying (he is) (and you don't really care) (like not at all) and you've got no idea where Sabrina is (and you don't want to care) (but you do) (you so do) and you think back on how stupid you were.
You thought you could take anything.
Silly, silly girl.
YESTERDAY
The first time you try to tell her, Farrah fucks it up.
"I was gonna go with magical," she says and then the rest of it is just words and David Blaine and you don't know or care because then you're kissing her again. You kiss her because you don't know how not to. You don't know how to see that smile on her face or how to watch her fingers toying with your buttons
(and you're surprised by how much you want her to stop toying and start doing)
or how to hear her say 'magical' and not need to be closer to her, to not need her.
That scares you a little.
(Fuck that.) (It scares you a lot.) (Like all the scared.)
You dated Roy (are) (are dating Roy) (you haven't had a chance to end it) (cause that requires talking and talking requires your lips and those have been a little… busy) for almost a year and you never once felt this kind of need. Or this much want. He - and his kisses and touches and his fingers that don't know shit about toying or doing - has always just kinda been… there.
Amy's not just there. She's fucking everywhere and she's everywhere all the time and it's most exhilarating (and terrifying) and awesome (and terrifying) and arousing (and, in case you didn't hear - terrifying) thing you've ever felt.
That's not actually true. Not… entirely.
The need and the want are great and frightening and wonderful and terrifying (told you) and exciting and just… everything. But they're not… the most.
The most is the secret (your secret) and the secret is the worst and the worst is the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach and it comes a lot, but especially when you kiss her and you need to tell her your secret (Roy) (it has a name) (even if you can't think of it whenever she's around, it - he - still has a name) because it's the right thing to do.
(And because her kisses are perfect and you need them to never - never ever - be tied to making you feel that feeling in the pit of your stomach or to you thinking about… him.)
(Roy.) (For fuck's sake… Roy.)
You can't imagine kissing someone over and over and over again (and you can't imagine not kissing her over and over and over again) with that much guilt inside. You can't even begin to process what it must do to a person to kiss and hold and lo… care… for someone that much while still carrying around a secret like that.
You don't just want to tell her. You have to.
Even if wrecks it all (you pray it won't) and even if it gives Karma all the ammo she needs to run you out of Amy's life (and it probably will) and even if you lose her.
(You can't.) (You just can't.)
No matter the risk, you have to tell her because she deserves that, she deserves the entire truth and you have to tell her. And you're going to. Right now. Right this moment, as you pull away and your eyes squeeze shut (cause you can't see her when you tell her cause it will hurt her and you can't watch that) and the words come bubbling up
(I lied)
and just as they come tumbling free they're lost in the sounds of Farrah barging in and you both barely have time to sit up and be presentable and make like you weren't just attached at the lips and you don't think Amy heard and you nod along and shake your head when Farrah asks if you're bringing dates to the Ho-Ho-Holiday party and even with her mother there, it's all you can do to not take Amy's hand (and then her lips) and claim her as yours, especially when Farrah starts going on and on about Felix (such a nice boy) (such a friendly boy) (such a sweet boy and he and Amy had such fun at Prom and did she mention he's such a nice boy?)
(Maybe she should date him.) (Can't be any worse than her usual choices.)
And then, as fast as she came, Farrah's gone and Amy's holding your hands and staring into your eyes and talking about secrets and how they blow up on you and you know you're talking back but you don't actually know what you're saying or what you're agreeing to (something about Karma) (as always) and all you can hear and all you can think is secrets and secrets and secrets and you… you… you…
You just fucking can't.
Especially since she's kissing you again and yeah, there's that feeling in your stomach but it's nothing compared to the feelings elsewhere
(your heart)
(get your mind out of the gutter)
(except she's toying with those buttons again and the gutter's seeming awfully good)
and you just can't do it, you just can't say it. Not now. Not like this.
It's OK, though. You've got time.
There will be another chance.
NOW
Karma's lurking in the hall outside your room and you know she heard everything you just said to Felix and, really, that's fine.
You were saying it as much to her as to him.
(Maybe more.)
She's lurking but she doesn't barge in and you don't know if that's her attempt (another one) at pushing you and Felix together or if she's actually just finally realized.
She fucked up.
You wonder if she knew, like you did. If she knew from the moment he walked in
(Roy.) (He has a name.) (You heard her use it.)
just how monumentally fucked you (and she) were.
You'd never seen him before and he really wasn't all that much to look at (but let's face it, your taste in men has always left a little something to be desired) but there was something… there was something there.
Maybe it was the way he walked right on in, like he belonged there with the other people you knew and cared about (or at least tolerated) (yeah, Liam was there.) There was a purpose to his entrance, a means to an end behind the way he stopped just inside the door, his eyes doing a slow circle of the room.
It might have been the glower (is that the word?) (you'd never actually ever seen anyone glower before, so you had no frame of reference) (but there was a definite...well… glower to his look, like he'd come looking for someone or something and not to bring them flowers or chocolates or best wishes for a safe and happy holiday season.)
But then (and this is kinda likely) it might have been the shirt. The one (at least a size too small and who says girls are the only ones trying too hard?) with his high school name and mascot on the front and they were kinda… familiar and they kinda… tickled something at the back of your mind, like you kinda… knew them? From somewhere?
(Like the shirt that had ended up on your bedroom floor just last night.)
Maybe it was this or maybe it was that or maybe (not really maybe) it was the way their faces went white, the both of them. Maybe (probably not maybe) it was the way both of them, at opposite ends of the room (like they'd been all night) looked like they'd seen a fucking ghost or zombie or Santa come to fucking life or (really) and old acquaintance not forgotten. Maybe (so not fucking maybe) it was the way Sabrina looked at you (like she'd already lost you) (another look that was all too familiar) or the way Karma looked at her ('you want a villain?') and refused to look at you.
(And yeah, you can tell when Karma's actively not looking at you cause it happens so fucking rarely, it kinda stands out.)
It was all that and it was the way that Felix (next to Karma) (like he had been all night) (and when had that happened and how hadn't you notice and - most importantly - why didn't you care?) dropped his cookie (sugar cookie) (fucking plain cookie) and muttered 'oh shit' under his breath and made a beeline for the door like he could stop him (the cookie could have taken Felix) (with little effort) and it was the way Sabrina sank down into the closest chair with her head in her hands and it was the way Karma…
It was the way Karma found herself right where she always was, eventually. Right by your side, her hand on your arm and something - was that pity? - in her eyes.
"It'll be OK," she whispered.
And even before you heard Sabrina say his name (Roy) (his name was - is - Roy) and even before he asked her just when, exactly, she'd decided she was gay
(an excellent question, you thought)
(score one for Roy)
and when, exactly, she'd planned on telling him (the boy was on a roll) and even before she walked away from him and came looking for you and even before you heard those three little words
('I can explain')
you knew the truth. Even as Karma kept whispering in your ear.
"It'll be OK."
God, she was such a fucking liar.
They both were.