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It scares you a little.
When you see her at school, in the circle meetings she actually makes an effort to turn up at and that seem to be taking up all of your time, at Java Brew or the Boathouse, she looks jumpy and skitterish. She was almost paranoid but still managing to be overly cocky at every possible opportunity. Melissa is looking a little worse for wear and you wonder what the two of them have been up to.
So far she's been very aware of being stick in any kind of close space with you, alone. Despite your efforts, you've so far been unsuccessful to talk to her since knocking on her second story window close to midnight after she nearly burnt down the school.
It is like this every day up until the most romantic day of the year rolls around.
It's the two of you, and Melissa, and for a little while Cassie, chugging back the beers that had been swiped from a parent's fridge and munching on pizza. There was some 'Devil's Spirit' at one point and you thought that if all of you had a little, as well as the alcohol, stepping out of your comfort zone you could forget about your problems for one night.
When you found out that it was this Lee guy was the guy you had kissed instead of the pizza boy, you wanted to throw up. And then you wanted to slap him.
But it was the sight of Melissa on the bedroom floor having a fit was enough to sober you almost entirely.
That leaves the three of you at odds for a few hours as you blame her for the overdose, for introducing her apparent best friend to the drug in the first place. She throws it back on you for ditching the girl when you started dating Adam. And then Melissa chooses you to help her and she is left out.
You can feel her eyes raking over your body four feet behind you after you get off the phone. She's picking at you, wanting a fight. Her earlier visitor seemed to have planted a seed of anger. She was looking for a fight, maybe just to test you, see how much you would rise up to the bait after your confession, that sleeping together wasn't a mistake.
You try to use Melissa as your excuse to leave the room. There is still buzz in your brain, and for some reason you don't fight when she blocks your path.
"Faye," you whisper.
You're practically touching, barely millimetres apart.
"Diana," she breathes out.
You should protest, as she leans in. The idea of giving her space after the whole school dance had been thrown out the window as you get so close you can see how wide her pupils are. Or maybe it had been kicked to the kerb when you dipped your finger into the little baggie of white powder.
It was nothing heated, or desperate, or needy.
It shocks you how different it feels kissing her this time. Just the slower tempo makes every change and you fall just a little further as her tongue slips into your mouth.
You pull back just a little out of breath when there is a small thud from the lounge and you decide that you should check on Melissa. Your hand brushes across her cheek gently, you smile softly and leave the brunette alone with her thoughts.
"I'm done with guys," she mumbles, a few hours later as the three of you are huddled on the couch, nibbling on her finger nails. You can't help but smile and laugh along with Melissa but for completely different reasons. "For now."
Your eyes meet for the first time since your kiss earlier and there is a moment of self doubt. Until a smirk settles on her face and she turns back to the movie. So you throw a pillow in her face and start an all out pillow fight.
By four am, after you've gone through the half a dozen beers and a few shots of tequila, Melissa has passed out from sheer exhaustion, so the two of you left her under a pile of blankets to sleep it off. When you manage to stumble into her bedroom, you basically fall into the sheets. You're ready to fall asleep, when you feel her tugging at the blankets underneath you.
"Trying to get into your bed?" you ask, lifting your hips to let her pull the duvet down.
"It's only fair. You got me into yours." The bed dips to your left and you feel a weight in your lap.
You struggle to contain the smile breaking on your face as your sit back on your elbows, as the fact that she had been the one to initiate it both times. Her hands tickle your sides. Her hair tickles your face as you make out with Faye Chamberlain at four-thirty in the morning.
You find your new favourite position; you're more aware of everything that you're doing, where your hands are, where her hands are.
Even though you know that's she's going to deny that anything like this ever happened between the two of you, and probably ignore you for another few weeks, it doesn't stop you from pulling her closer.
When you wake up the next morning, and it's probably closer to noon, it's because she had shuffled around a little and was watching you sleep with her head in her hand.
"Hi," you mutter, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.
"Hi," she replies, her poker face fixed into place. She's studying you, and it seems unusual for her to be so quiet and pensive.
It scares you a little.
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