Alright, we're in the home stretch now kiddos. It gets a little rocky from here on out. They're really mean to each other but they're still friends, I swear.

EDIT: Apparently, "Home stretch" does not mean to me what it means to several of you. I apologize. This story is NOT over. Sorry again for the confusion.

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR: Excessive swearing, Abuse, Violence, and slight, non-consensual sexual themes.

Lapis' Kink is Fucking Me Over

When Lapis Lazuli breaks through my second story window for the second time, it's nearly ten at night, and I'm asleep.

Look, this whole falling-asleep-at-a-decent-time-and-being-well-rested thing isn't really my style, but there comes a time in every exhausted teenager's life in which they say they're going to go to bed early from now on to avoid any future mental breakdowns. Of course, this proclamation is more often than not broken the consecutive night, but I digress.

By the time I hear my window squeak open, my fingers are already fumbling around my nightstand for my glasses. A body tumbles into my room, and I scramble to my knees.

"Who's there?" I snap, which, in retrospect is a really dumb thing to say to a possible murderer/burglar.

The menacing shadow jumps and backs up into my closet door. It's only after I hear a soft, "Aw, shit!" do I lower my shoulders, recognizing the hushed voice. Lapis Lazuli crawls into the dim beam of moonlight pouring in from my window, and I catch a flash of blue hair and eyes to match.

I throw my covers away, scowling.

"Lapis," I sigh, fixing my lopsided glasses over my nose.

I'd really like to be madder, but god, does she look beautiful. She looks like the type of girl to stand in front of a 24-hour drugstore at 2 AM waiting for someone to snap a Polaroid of her while she pretends not to look. She's wearing her swim team jacket zipped all the way up to her chin, and the bright glow of the gibbous moon shines off the blue in her eyes like they're made of the holographic strips they put on traffic vests.

Somehow, I manage to snap myself out of it. "W-what are you doing here? Aren't your parents supposed to be home or something?"

Lapis shifts her weight between her legs, glancing out the window with some brand of calculated urgency. "Yeah, sorry," she says, "so… do you wanna get the fuck out of here?"

"What? No!"

"Peridot, please."

"Lapis, just come sleep here," I grumble, slumping back down and patting my bed.

Lapis stares almost longingly at my warm blankets. She then tears her eyes away and shakes her head furiously. "No," she insists. She squeezes her fists. She ambles over to me with lopsided feet and practically falls into me, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing her lips to my cheek.

Her body is hot and feverish, and her breath smells like stale bread. From this distance, I can clearly see the flush of her cheeks and ears.

"Are you drunk?" I ask, raising a brow.

Lapis shakes her head after a short delay. "No."

She doesn't kiss me again.

"Where the hell do you want me to take you?" I press, narrowing my eyes.

"Away. C'mon, just get your car and let's leave."

She drags the backside of her nails along the inside of my thigh. I cross my legs stiffly and turn away. "Look, I can't, my dad-,"

"He won't know!" Lapis assures me, voice edging on desperation. "Please, Peridot! I kind of really need you right now, okay?"

Maybe I should've been suspicious. Maybe I should've regarded her pleas with even an inch of hesitance. But Lapis, damn her, knew exactly how to take advantage of what sympathy I had and could coerce me into anything. I decided, with the percentage of my brain that hadn't yet been developed, that if she needed me, then I would let myself be needed.

I make the throatiest sigh I can physically manage and shove her away. "Go back out. I'll meet you in the yard."

Lapis grins. "Thank you," she says. She looks as if she wants to kiss me again, but stops herself and hurries to my window instead. I listen to the rubber of her shoes scrabble against the side of my house and release a paused breath as soon as I hear the dull thunk of her falling to the ground.

I stretch out, taking a good minute to wake up and think about stapling "missing" posters to the city's telephone posts so I can find out where the hell my mind went.

I pull on some thicker pants and a jacket, stuffing twenty bucks, my car keys, and a cell phone teetering on 20% battery life into my pockets. Sliding into my slippers, I open my doors and peer out.

To my horror, my father is in the living room, watching college football and sipping a beer. I curse under my breath and retreat back into my room. Easing my door shut, I walk back to the window and stick my head out.

"What's taking you?" Lapis whisper-screams, concern etched on her face.

"Dad's downstairs!" I hiss back.

Lapis frowns and goes quiet. And then she looks like she's thinking and that's when I get scared. Because, see, Lapis has two different modes of thought- the innocent kind she uses to flunk tests she actually tries on, and the devious kind that lands us both with broken fingers.

The first kind I can respect, if not solely for the good intentions behind it. But the second one? A constant reminder of why my left index finger only moves 70% of its original range and why I will never, ever try two-person bowling ever again.

Maybe it's the fact that a gradual grin crawls up her lips, but something tells me she's thinking with the second type.

"Lapis…,"

"Come out the window. Like I did," Lapis suggests. "The pipe's sturdy, I swear! It didn't even budge when I climbed it, and I'm like, thirty pounds heavier than you."

I bite my lower lip and squeeze the windowsill.

"Come on, Peri!" Lapis presses, stationing herself under the pipe. "Look, I'll be right here to catch you if you lose your grip. It's not that far, honest, and it's easier going down anyways."

"Am I allowed to write a will first?" I sneer, making a face.

"Shut up and come down here before I make you."

I groan and ease my leg over the sill, hands clenched around the hold tightly enough to bleach my knuckles. Still time to change your mind, I tell myself as I kick my other leg out. I lock my elbows to keep myself from falling and blindly search for the drainage pipe. My hands sweat a small ocean, and I nearly lose my grip as I transfer myself from my window to my gutter pipe.

"You're doing great!" Lapis calls, cupping her mouth with her hands.

"Shut up!" I yell back.

There's no breeze to rattle me, and it's been dry for the last few days, but I'm still struggling to hold on. Not so much because I'm nervous, but rather because I'm just plain out of shape. I tuck my shoulders in and squish my cheek up to the cold aluminum, inching down at something I'd call a snail's pace if the comparison wouldn't insult snails so brutally.

After five minutes of crawling and only five inches of space, I make the split decision to jump. And I don't care how strong Lapis thinks she is, there's no way she can catch me and keep her bones in one piece.

"Lapis, I'm jumping! Get away!" I say, pulling my arm away just briefly to shoo her.

Lapis takes a few steps back. With a shaky breath, I unhinge myself from the drain pipe, falling through seven feet of air and landing flat on my ass. The fall doesn't hurt, but I'm so shell-shocked by the impact that I can't even stand myself up.

Lapis laughs and helps me up, hands cold and quivering despite the temperate weather. She plucks up two bags at her feet and swings them around her shoulder. They're both guitar cases. If there's a cynical comment anywhere on my tongue, I make sure to swallow it down.

We walk in tense silence to my car. There's something thoughtful on Lapis' mind, but at times like these, I find I'd rather not press it.

I help Lapis stuff her instruments into the back seat, and open her door for her. She thanks me without a smile.

"So, where are we going now?" I question, fixing my keys into the ignition and twisting them.

"Shit, I don't care. I just don't want to be here," she says, her voice taking on an unusual coarseness. She tightens her fists, and I offer her a solemn nod and a silent promise to keep the radio silent.

I manage to make it all the way down the street before I speak up again. "Lapis, shit, what happened? You parents- fuck, are you okay?"

Lapis laughs, but it's not bubbly. Rather, every forced puff of air is weighted down with shackles and chains. It's the kind of laugh that drops in pitch, and raises concern.

Lapis looks me in the eyes and grins.

"I want to burn down my fucking house."

Because I don't want to notice the broken note in her voice, I focus instead on her body. She sways awkwardly in her seat and can't seem to focus on any one thing for more than a lazy second. I raise my eyebrows.

"You're drunk," I say again, sure this time.

The bitter reek of draft beer rolls from her tongue as she speaks. "Nah. Just hungry."

"When did you last eat?" I press, raising an eyebrow.

"A little bit ago."

"Lapis, you cut twelve inches off your hair and considered it a 'little bit'. Just how long is a 'little bit'?" I squeeze my fingers around the grips of my steering wheel and Lapis rolls her eyes, sighing in exasperation.

"I ate something yesterday, I think," she muses. "It's not a big deal."

Because the disparity between what Lapis thinks is a big deal and what is actually a big deal is much larger than it should be, I take her word with a grain of salt and insist on taking a pit-stop at the local fast food joint.

She watches me as I drive, overly-interested in my hands as I operate the stick shift. I brush it off as a drunken stupor and turn into a McDonalds. Parking in the lot, I open her door for her. Lapis stumbles out and when I try to twine our fingers, she bats my hand away.

"People can see us," she says simply. My heart tightens in my chest, but I force myself to keep a straight face.

She trudges into the fast food place as if she's walking down a school hallway, her eyes low and her body hunched. I have the incredible urge to hold her up and let her lean on me, but out of both spite and hurt, I refrain. We stand up at the counter, and the tired worker there offers us a pitiful greeting.

I jab Lapis in the soft spot between her collarbone and neck, and she jerks her head up, staring at me with huge, moony eyes.

"What do you want?"

Lapis scrunches her brow and squints as if trying to process my question. "wha-huh?"

"What do you want? Jesus, how the hell did you manage to climb up my window? Look at you." I point to her wobbling posture and she scoffs.

"I needed you," Lapis frowns, as if the answer should've been obvious. "But now I'm not so sure."

I roll my eyes and growl under my breath, shoving her away from me and ordering half a dozen mini-apple pies and a large Coca-Cola.

We get our bag of food, and I settle down at a table, passing Lapis the cup of soda. She sips it timidly. She's a real princess about her whole dedication to live like an athlete, and midnight runs to fast food joints are more or less dieting suicide. "I'm not hungry," she pouts, eyeing the packages of food with restrained desire.

"Fuck you, I paid money for these," I snap back. "Eat, okay? I'm not letting you starve yourself just because you're sad."

Lapis glares at me, but snatches a box despite and opens it delicately. She bites into it like one of those ladies that eat with gaping mouths to keep from smudging their lipstick. She takes her first bites with care, and then proceeds to wolf down the rest of the pastry like a starved beast. Lapis manages to tuck away four pies, and her eyes still linger on the fifth.

"You can have it," I say, wiggling it at her.

"Nah. They're yours."

"I'm not hungry; I had dinner. Turns out some of us actually have regular eating habits," I tease, poking her and opening up the package.

"You demonstrate like, probably the worst eating habits I've ever seen." Lapis' eyebrows rise. "Watching you eat is like watching the main character from a horror movie go into the same room as the killer."

"You're an asshole."

"Carbicide, Peri. It's a real thing, and you come closer to committing it every day," Lapis snickers.

I mock a scowl and push the food into her mouth. "Shut your pie-hole," I grin. Lapis gives me an exasperated and audible groan.

"I hate you," Lapis laughs, taking the pie from me and chewing it between long sips of Coke. Her cheeks look a lot redder now after the food and drink, and her eyes are clear and alert. I almost sigh in relief.

Her hand is resting on the table, tapping out a simple rhythm to a phantom song. I fight the urge to grab it and lose miserably. Lapis frowns and looks back at the register. Nobody's there, and if they were, I'm sure they wouldn't give a shit, but she tells me to knock it off anyways.

"Don't, Peri," she hisses.

I scowl and glare at the piss-yellow tabletop, ripping my hand from hers and burying it in my pockets like the fabric of my coat is the dirt covering a coffin. "Sorry. Whatever."

Lapis sighs and moves to get up. "Aw, you know it's not like th- shit!"

She knocks over the cup of coke as she leans over and it spills over my jeans. My hands jerk up instinctively, and I move to hop out of the booth, but the damage has been done. Coca-Cola covers my jeans from the crotch down, and fuck, does it make a convincing pee-stain.

I'm already red up to my ears and rushing to the washrooms before Lapis can apologize. I burst into the Ladies' room and check my reflection in the mirror, releasing a string of curses when I see the wet spot. I hurry to the sink and splash water on myself to dispel the stickiness that has started to settle between my thighs.

Lapis follows me in only seconds later. We stare at each other for a long moment in silence before she loses it and bursts out laughing.

"Peridot, you look like-,"

"Shut up!" I whine, stomping my foot like a toddler having an episode.

"C'mere, lemme help you."

"N-no!" I blush and grab a wad of paper towels, turning my back to her and furiously wiping off the front of my jeans. Lapis continues to giggle, yanking off another strip of towels and handing them to me. She turns me around by the shoulders and kneels down to help, but there's really no way to rub your friend's soaking crotch without making it awkward, so she just sort of stares and dabs at my thighs. Which is, you know, totally useful and not humiliating at all.

It takes nearly twenty minutes, but eventually, the most of the spill is dried out, and I look significantly less disgusting. Lapis helps me toss away the small mountain of paper towels, and smiles when she catches my eye. Suddenly, I'm being shoved against the wall and kissed on the lips.

Lapis wedges her knee between my legs and pins my arms on either side of my head, humming into the movement of our lips. I don't really kiss back, but I don't fight it either. Finally, she pulls away and blows a puff of thick, sweet-smelling air into my face.

"Seriously?" I huff, out of breath. "You suck. Big time."

"W-what?"

"You don't let me hold your goddamned hand, you spill Coke on me, and now you're kissing me? In literally the most disgusting place ever. You suck." I explain. Lapis retracts her knee and crosses her arms, biting her lip and staring at our shoes.

"You know I didn't mean to."

"Sure," I say, hoping that she doesn't realize how hurt I really am. I hope I sound childish to her. Maybe then she'll undervalue my emotions to the point where I don't have to face them.

Lapis does what I want for once and doesn't press me, instead apologizing silently by taking my hand and walking me outside. The sentiment is nice, but it's contradicted when she lets go as soon as we reach the parking lot, and goes back to looking around for prying eyes that don't exist.

"Let's go home, Lapis," I murmur as soon as we're both back in the car. Lapis shakes her head.

"No."

"What do you mean, 'no'? What the hell do you still want?" I ask, my voice cracking. I don't mean for it to come out so desperately, but I'm tired and miserable, and Lapis is somehow making it even worse. Lapis bites her lower lip and her left hand jerks in and out of a sloppy C cord.

"I want you to get me the hell out of here," Lapis says, her voice frighteningly crisp. She leans against the door and closes her eyes, and I get the feeling that she wants it to be the end of discussion. But I'm a dog with a choke-collar, and she's tugging the leash just hard enough for me lash out.

"Get out," I bark.

"What?"

"You heard me. Get out. I'm not dealing with this tonight." I say harder. To prove my point, I reach over and open her door for her. Lapis' brow softens.

"Peridot, please…"

"No, fuck you! I'm so sick of doing you want me to do because then you think you can get away with screwing me over!" My voice rises at an alarming rate, and Lapis only shrinks down in her seat. She takes a shaky breath and with trembling hands, she unzips her coat.

"What the hell are you doing, you clod? Are you fucking dull?" I yell louder, my pent up anger tearing through my throat. My fingers clench hard against my palms, and my eyes bulge. Lapis doesn't stop, slowly stripping her jacket and pulling her shirt collar down.

My fury fades as soon as I see it. It's huge, and purple, and five-fingered. It decorates Lapis' dark skin like an ill-fitting necklace, darkest at the base of her neck and tapering off at her collar. Lapis licks her lips and looks away, brows knit. She swallows hard and tightens her jaw.

We sit in silence for a long time, and with every passing second, I feel more and more like a grade-a jackass. I slump down in my seat and drag my hands through my hair to expel some stress. It hardly works.

Lapis speaks up eventually. "She didn't mean to. But she got mad. She can't control it, Peridot."

"Your mom…?"

Lapis nods numbly, her eyes blank and unfocused.

"What happened?"

She stares at her fingertips in disinterest. "We got into a fight. She told me that she wanted me to stop cutting my hair, or else I'd look like-," Lapis cuts herself off to close her eyes and lean back. "-anyways she wants me to sell my guitar and go into business like her and dad. I told her no, and she said that if I didn't, she'd stop sending me money. I told her that I didn't care, and she kind of snapped she…"

Lapis runs her fingers over her bruise and I see her chest heave. Her eyes open again and she smiles sadly. "I showed her that video of my swim meet, Peri. She said I did really good."

I sigh and drag my nails through my hair. "Please just come home with me," I beg.

"I'm sorry I've been so shitty," Lapis murmurs. "But if you take me back there, I swear to god I won't ever forgive you."

I should've ignored her. I should've locked all the doors and I should've dragged her into my house by the ear. I should've known, because if anyone knew that Lapis was a liar, it was me.

And maybe I did know, but I drove in spite of knowing, because even though she was horrible, she was still my best friend. And sometimes, that fact alone can overshadow every ounce of common sense in the world.

I stick my car in drive and take off down the streets, holding on the steering wheel as if it's a vein I'm choking the life from. "You're the worst," I snap, turning down some side street to dodge our houses. Lapis snorts humorlessly and observes me silently as I drive.

We pull up to a red light and I slow to neutral, fiddling with the shift.

"So how do you do that thing with your foot?" Lapis asks after an extended silence.

"What, the clutch? You just sort of stick this in first," I point to the stick, "and slowly transfer your weight from the clutch to the acceleration. It's easy."

Lapis hums in understanding and goes back to watching me with disconcerting intensity. I distract myself by focusing on my surroundings.

There's really no point- I know these streets like the back of my hand, and it's not like there's any moving hazards to look out for. If you subtract the stuff we put out for the vacationers in the summer, there's really no nightlife in Beach City. If you want a drink, or if you want somewhere that'll keep you awake, you've got to go inland towards the city.

I drive us in just that direction, heading to a secluded ridge at the edge of town. There's a fat stretch of unpolished land between Beach City and the city that we all used to love to as kids.

Lapis and I used to ride up there on our bikes after school with markers and write our names on our favorite trees. When we got older, we realized that the marker always faded away and began to use knives instead.

It seems so much closer than it used to when we were kids. Maybe it's the fact that we're bigger now, or maybe it's the fact that I'm driving at 30 miles-per-hour. I drive down the dirt path and park by the entrance to the trails.

Lapis is still staring as I pull my keys out and stuff them in my pocket. She orders me to open the trunk, scurrying outside to pull out her new guitar case. She fixes it over her shoulders and hops the fence set in place specifically to ward off curfew-breaking hooligans like us. It's not tall- 10 feet at most- but it's cold and sleek, and my slippers can't seem to find a foothold with their limited traction. It takes me quite a bit to clear the fence, but I do, and this time when I fall over the other side, Lapis is there to catch me.

She suggests that we go further into the forest so that we won't be heard, and like an idiot, I follow her. After all, Lapis is no schemer- if anything, she just doesn't want to be caught out late and turned into the police department.

We finally come to a patch of thick pine trees that are familiar even at midnight. Lapis smiles broadly and jogs up to one of them, searching around the trunk. When she finds what she's looking for, she calls me over to look. I'm not surprised to find our insignia, an L with a backwards P stemming off of it.

I remembered the day we marked it- it was two weeks before school let back in for eighth grade, and Lapis had smuggled a Swiss Army knife from her dad's desk. She had originally wanted to carve our full names, but I talked her out of it.

"Firstly," I had said, "that'll be way too long to write out. Plus, if the cops come, they'll know it was us. We have to be secret, okay?" Lapis nodded seriously and then went on to make our mark.

She'd said it would be like a gang symbol. I'd rolled my eyes and I had told her that she was dumb and that no gang clods ever carved their names into any trees, because, duh, that was totally not a gang thing. Lapis had put her hands on her hips and asked me then, if the marker wasn't for gangs, then what could it possibly be for?

"Well," I'd said, "It's for us. So we don't forget where our spot is, obviously." And because Lapis was so sure that I was smart enough to know everything, she'd accepted my reasoning with a drawn out "ohhhh".

Looking back, I don't think I was wrong. Because I remember this spot exactly. And I remember every single tree we marked, even if it was in marker.

"Hey, Peri," Lapis asks, "what do you think our middle-school selves would think of us now?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "They'd think we're total losers."

Lapis snorts and settles down on her knees, setting her guitar case on the ground and unzipping it. My eyebrow quirks as soon as I see a wooden neck jut from the case. It's an acoustic. Lapis tugs it out like it's made of breakaway glass, cradling it.

"Shit," I whisper, looking at the name that graces the body. "Your parents weren't lying." My eyebrows knit. "Why'd they buy you a guitar? Didn't they want you to sell yours?"

Lapis nods and puts on a cocky grin. "I'll show you." She hikes the instrument up to her knees, prepares a chord, and strums. Instead of the full, melodic sound I'm used to hearing from her, the only noise Lapis pulls from the instrument is a dead twang that plummets through the air like deadweight. And that's when I look closer and realize.

The strings aren't even nylon. They're plastic. Completely useless, in musical terms.

"The tuners are glued in place," Lapis says with an airy chuckle. She clenches her fist around the strings roughly, and one of them snaps, curling around her closed fist like a stray wire. "They didn't even scratch off the 'made in China' sticker."

"What's it for, then?" I ask.

"It's a showpiece," Lapis says incredulously, "It's supposed to replace my Schecter. Like, really? That thing's practically, my baby."

"You parents are fucking assholes," I agree, nodding solemnly.

Lapis stares at her guitar in silence.

"Well?" I say, trying to rouse her out of that pitiful state of haunting emotionless stupor. "What now?"

Lapis raises her head and looks right through me. "I'm gonna do what everyone in this stupid town has wanted me to do since I was twelve and get myself emancipated. Then, I guess I'll just go."

"Go? Where?"

"Don't know. Somewhere warm," Lapis says with a smile that would be better suited as a frown.

I feel some fire rise back in my throat. I scrunch my brow and step forward, growling. "You're just going to leave? What about school? What about me? What about… what about Pearl?"

"I'm never getting into college anyways," Lapis shrugs. She doesn't answer my other two questions, but I know she's thinking of a response in the silence. She finally shakes her head and twists the broken string between her fingers. "I'm already cheating on her. What does it change if I leave, too?"

"Lapis, don't be stupid," I warn.

"What, like you care? You hate her. I'm sure you'd like to see her cry, wouldn't you?" Lapis sneers, baring her teeth and locking our gazes. I don't back down, instead puffing out my chest and raising my shoulders.

"No," I say simply.

"You know, I always thought I was the liar," Lapis laughs coldly, turning away from me.

Lapis loosens her grip on her guitar, sliding her hands to the base of the neck. She shakes it a little bit to affirm her grip, and hauls it up to her shoulder like it's an ax. She offers the night a long breath, and tightens her fists around the faux fret board. "Hey, Peri. Want to see something cool?"

"Lapis, don't…" I warn as I watch her eyes lock on a thick trunk.

She ignores me, backing up two steps and then running straight for the sturdy tree. Lapis releases a loud scream as she stops to force her momentum into a wide-arced swing. With the cheap wood it's made of, the instrument practically shatters upon contact and makes a loud, echoing crack. Lapis doesn't stop, accentuating every violent swing with a breathy roar.

"Fuck-," swing, "this-," swing, "bullshit!" swing.

It doesn't take her more than a few minutes to reduce the mass of useless scrap wood and paint into a slightly less attractive pile of useless scrap wood and paint. She stomps the last of the body under her boot, panting like she just ran a marathon. Lapis stares at her mess, throws the last splinter of the neck into the dirt, and drops like a dead battery to her knees.

I cautiously approach her, setting my arm around her shoulder like she's the shiny teeth of a freshly laid bear trap. It's only then do I feel the small tremors overtaking her, and it's only then do I realize that she's crying.

Lapis doesn't sob, and she doesn't scream. Let's put it this way; if you measured crying on a 10x10 coordinate graph, and you set the Y-axis to sympathy garnered and the X-axis to level of pathetic-ness (1 being lowest, 10 being highest), Lapis' crying would be somewhere around point (3,7).

It was silent, and it was impersonal, and in the right lighting, it was beautiful. I almost felt as if I'd intruded on something I wasn't supposed to see, and fought the urge to look down. Lapis' face had deformed into something monstrous, and her jaw opened and closed stiffly, as if she was wondering whether to look up into the sky and scream like they did in all the movies.

She wouldn't, though. That cliché really only worked when it rained, and upon looking up, the sky was as clear and tranquil as ever.

Her body spasms once more, chest heaving, and then she's out like a dud firework, falling into me and burying her eyes in her sleeve. I don't say a word, simply stroking her hair comfortingly.

"I'm so stupid," she says between shallow, hiccuped breaths.

I bite my lip. "No," I say suddenly, my voice much quieter than I'd intended. "You're not stupid, Lapis. You're the smartest fucking person I know."

Lapis slowly lifts her head and looks at me in disbelief. See, Lapis had heard from day one that she was beautiful, and that she was attractive, and that she had a nice body, but I don't think she'd ever been told that she was smart. And maybe that's my fault, because I don't think I ever let her accept that about herself. I've called her a moron more than I've called myself ugly, and that's a hard record to beat.

"I'm not," Lapis says, breaking into my thoughts.

"You are. So what if you're not good at schoolwork? I've seen what you write Lapis- like, your songs and stuff. You're smart," I press.

Lapis shakes her head, but I can see a smile poking past her teeth. There's another silence that hushes even the wind, but this time, we welcome it. It gives us air to breathe, and time to think, and really, that's all a silence is good for.

"Peridot?" she whispers, her voice cracking.

"Yeah?"

"I'm never having kids."

I nod and hold her tighter, as if my one arm can keep both of our brittle and splitting bodies together. "Okay," I whisper, kissing the top of her head, "okay."

Lapis tilts her head up and catches me on the lips. She's unusually gentle, moving at a lazy pace as she adjusts her body for better access. Lapis wraps her arms around my waist and bites my lower lip. I gasp. She smiles.

Her lips are warm, and her breath tastes vaguely like apple pie mixed with Coca-Cola amongst other poisons. I scoot onto her lap and wrap my legs around her middle, locking them at the ankles. I love when Lapis is this close to me, because I get to notice all the little Everythings that show themselves at an inch's distance. Like the redness of her cheeks, or the faintness of her freckles, or the stray hairs at the ends of her eyebrows. I wonder idly what she must notice about me.

Maybe she notices that I didn't even bother to cover up the huge zit on the side of my face. I'm sure she finds it charming.

Lapis pulls back to brush her lips against my jaw. She nips at the skin delicately, and I wriggle in her grasp, whining. My humiliation must amuse her, because she doesn't stop. Her hands search my body above my clothes, paying wonderful attention to my hips and ass.

Suddenly, she stops, pushing me a few inches from her face and staring at me with narrowed eyes. Lapis takes a deep breath and grits her teeth. She squeezes my body, but not enough for it to hurt.

"Fuck me," she says, her voice demanding.

"Are you-,"

"You heard me," Lapis snaps. To prove a point, she kisses me again rougher, and adjusts me so that my back is flush to the dirt and worms. She rocks her hips against mine and I gasp, slamming my eyes shut, and mouthing a soft "stop". Or maybe it's a "don't stop". I can't really tell.

Lapis sucks on my neck, her teeth digging into my skin. She pulls back with a wet pop, and brushes her lips over the new bruise. When we catch gazes again, her eyes are hooded, and her cheeks are red.

"I know you want this, Peridot. I see how you get when we kiss or whatever- like, the glint in your eyes. And-and I see you after I back away. It's the same look every damned time," Lapis' hand travels down to the flat of my stomach. I wish she wasn't right- it'd so much easier to let myself stop this. But my body reacts to her touch like potassium in water, and my hips rise without my permission. I hear the pull of a zipper.

"I don't want to think anymore," Lapis hisses, "I want you to fuck me until I can't."

Her hand slips down my pants and my eyes snap open. Finally, my mouth and throat work together to form one loud, clear word. "No!" My body freezes (which is a horrible defense mechanism, by the way) and I can hardly hear myself think over the roar of blood rushing through my ears.

Lapis pulls away immediately, backing up until her shoulder collides with a tree. She winces, but doesn't break eye contact. "Shit, sorry, sorry, sorry," she whispers, voice shaking. "I- I thought…" She holds her hands up in a show of nonviolence.

I nod stiffly, trembling as I zip my jeans back up and cover my crotch with my hands. Lapis still murmurs apologies like a broken record, but I'm not listening.

I wanted it, I know I did. But something stopped me. Something would not physically allow me to touch Lapis in that way, or let her touch me. I think it's called a conscience, but maybe it's not. Maybe it's just empathy.

"Peridot, are you-,"

"I'm okay," I nod. There's a long silence while I try to organize my thoughts like presentation note cards. "Look, I don't want you to have sex with me," I say, as clearly as possible. "Because I know you don't want this. I don't care what you tell me, and I don't care what I want. It's okay to not like it, Lapis. It's totally normal."

Lapis' nostrils flare. "No, I want-,"

"Shut up!" I shout. "You don't know what you want! Look, I know your parents drilled this stupid idea of normalcy into you, but fuck that, okay? Fuck that. I'm not going to let you traumatize yourself to make me happy. That, my friend, is fucking bullshit."

Lapis grits her teeth as if she's about to protest, but quickly deflates. She slams her fist against the ground and hisses, "fuck!" She looks as if she wants to close the distance, but fights the urge. "Peridot, I'm so sorry."

I nod like a bobble-head, my brows furrowing as a stray thought hits me. "Did you ever… you know, with her?" I ask, feeling my stomach sink even before I finish speaking.

"Yeah," Lapis says after a moment, "God, I was so horrible to her. I completely blanked during the entire thing and then I ran away like a wuss. I can't even remember if I told her that I loved her." Lapis hugs herself tightly so I don't have to.

I'm almost thankful for the space, because this news hurts an unreasonable amount. Maybe I had this fantasy that I could be her first. Whatever- it doesn't matter now.

Lapis lifts her head and laughs. "Fuck, I guess you can say 'I told you so' now."

"About?" I raise my brow.

"Me and Pearl. You were right. It's not working out," Lapis explains, shaking her head.

I snort a little and relax with a sigh. "Alright," I say, "I told you so." And we laugh just to laugh, which we've been doing a lot of lately.

"C'mere," Lapis says, patting the ground next to her. "I won't touch you unless you want me to."

I nod and gingerly make my way towards her, sitting next to her and leaning back on the tree. The night seems, very suddenly, much colder.

"Are you tired?" Lapis asks, looking up at the clear skies above us.

"Yeah," I admit, "you?"

"I'm kind of dead," Lapis chuckles meekly. She smiles and taps my hand, setting hers not an inch away. I accept her request, wiggling my hand under her huge bear paw. "Yeah, I guess I'm kinda tired," Lapis says, running her thumb over the back of my hand. "But it's not the kind of tired that sleep fixes."

"Mmhm," I say, my eyelids wearing heavy on my face. With the last of my adrenaline wasted, I'm close to passing out right here.

"You can take a nap if you want. I'll wake you," Lapis says, noticing that I'm kind of in the Twilight Zone of almost-sleep.

If I wasn't suspicious before, I should be now. But because I'm too tired, and too spent, and too willing to fall asleep next to my best friend, I don't even first-guess her offer.

"Wake me up in twenty minutes," I murmur, eyelids meeting. My last conscious thought is that of Lapis Lazuli kissing my forehead and uttering one last cruel apology.

And when I wake up three hours later, my phone is dead, Lapis is gone, and so are my car keys.

Thank you to everyone that read, reviewed, favorited, and followed! You guys are the reason I put so much time into this lmao.

SPECIAL THANKS:

hopalformoreopal on Tumblr for their awesome playlist inspired by this fic! I ended up downloading the songs to my phone and listening to them while writing a good chunk of this, actually. They're all great jams. Check the playlist out on my bio!

Mayordeweyhype on Tumblr for their awesome poem they made by selecting snippets of this story! It was so fucking cool to hear all these great unrelated passages work together like that tbh. Check the poem out on my bio as well!