In the world of sororities, there are rules for kissing girls.

If a girl is your bestie, little quick kisses are fine because you're besties and you're close. You have to laugh about it and say it's okay because you're both girls after.

If you're drunk at some party and there are guys, you can make out with a girl for ten or fifteen seconds to impress them. You have to laugh afterwards and mention how drunk you are.

In any other situation, kissing girls is off-limits. You stick to hand-holding and sitting on laps and sharing earbuds and hugs that last a little too long. Normal stuff, friend stuff, stuff other girls don't even notice.

Right now, Elle has no excuse. Sure, she's tipsy, but not tipsy enough that it's an excuse for kissing someone like Vivian Kensington. Vivian's tipsy too, but not tipsy enough that she won't shove Elle away and smack her in the face and ask her what the hell she's thinking.

Somehow that's not happening. Vivian makes a little surprised noise against Elle's mouth, but when Elle pulls away she doesn't say anything. Elle tries not to blush and pulls herself together. There's pounding electropop and loud conversation in the background, but her own breathing still sounds too painfully loud. Elle fidgets with the hem of her skirt and tries to think of an excuse to leave the party and get back to her dorm and do something to take her mind off the fact that she just kissed Vivian Kensington.

Vivian is still standing there, leaning against the wall of someone's apartment, lip gloss smudged and blazer unbuttoned, watching Elle, like she's waiting for her to do something, and it's starting to get weird.

"I have an exam to go study for?" Elle tries.

"We're in all the same classes."

"Um, it's an – uh – extra credit exam!" Elle's voice gets higher when she's nervous, and right now she can barely squeak out words. "Bye!"

She stands outside the building in the cold night air for too long, until she's shivering and can stop feeling the warmth of Vivian's hand on her shoulder.

Vivian steps out of the door and leans against the brick wall, about ten feet away from Elle. She seems to be trying very hard not to look in Elle's direction.

"For the record, I'm extremely straight," she says, breaking the silence, and Elle rushes to fill it in with more words.

"I mean, of course! Me too, I was just drunk. You know, girl things."

Vivian's still not looking at her, but now it might be the streetlight or she could actually be blushing. Before Elle has time to do a full rundown of what might be happening here, Vivian speaks again.

"If you kiss like that all the time, I'm surprised Warner even thought of leaving you."

Elle tries to say something, but her mouth seems to have dried up and is no longer functioning. She feels something in the pit of her stomach that might be nerves and she has no idea why she's nervous.

"My place?" Vivian asks, and Elle follows her because her brain has apparently also stopped working.

The next morning, Elle vows to herself never to think about that night again. But when she walks into class and sees Vivian in her usual seat, talking and laughing with Warner, there's a little thought that floats up unbidden about how if Vivian usually does that thing with her tongue then no wonder Warner wants her.

Dammit.

And for quite a long time, they're never really even friends, but there's a complicated sort of tension that makes Elle's stomach do a backflip when Vivian argues with her. And for a long time Elle doesn't even have the words to explain what they are, exactly, but in the end things work out just fine.