Lucy doesn't know what proper "post-first-kiss-with-someone" etiquette is, but if she had to take a guess, she could bet that it's not, "Do you...um. We can go watch some TV?"
If Rachel is anything other than completely fine with it, it doesn't show, because she smiles softly and tugs on Lucy's hand and says, "Okay," and pulls her to the living room.
She sinks into the couch and then tells Rachel that it "doesn't matter," when she asks what she wants to watch.
It's just like a normal day at the Berry house, really, except...
Except if Lucy licks her lips, she can taste Rachel's lip gloss, and if she looks over at Rachel, in the glow of the TV, she can see a slight pink to Rachel's cheeks.
And if she thinks about what happened not ten minutes ago, it takes a ridiculous amount of effort not to smile like and idiot.
"I know you maybe don't want to talk about it." Rachel starts, and if she's talking about what Lucy thinks she's talking about, then she's wrong, because if it wasn't socially frowned upon (and if everyone in her life wasn't still a little concerned about her well-being) she'd climb on top of the roof and shout it to whoever would listen.
"But we're not—we don't have to pretend that this didn't happen, right?"
Lucy blinks in surprise and then she puffs out a, "What?" in a laugh/scoff.
"We don't have to pretend this didn't happen, right?" Rachel repeats, a little slowly, and Lucy would be offended if her eyes weren't flicking down to Rachel's lips every few seconds.
"No." Lucy says quickly, and then, "I—why? Did you...want to?"
There's something like insecurity that pops up in the back of Lucy's mind, and she chews on the corner of her lip in an attempt to focus on something else.
"No!" Rachel nearly yells, eyes wide, and Lucy laughs softly. "No, not—not at all. No."
Lucy nods, and, channeling Sam for a second, she says, "Cool."
…
What do u mean u kissed Rachel
exactly that?
Lucy figures she should have texted him a long time ago, but she also figured that that might have been a little rude, to kiss someone and then spend the rest of the time on the phone.
Okay Sam texts back, and then can I come over or s/t this is a weird convo to have over the phone.
Lucy bristles a little bit at weird,but then she remembers that it's Sam and that's probably just his way of saying, this conversation looks like it's going in a direction that my phone bill will not be able to handle.
…
"Are you gay?" Sam wonders, and Lucy pauses, opening and closing her mouth for a second before mashing her lips shut.
She admires Sam's bravery for a second because, god, if she wasn't, and he'd asked that...
She wouldn't be offended, not in the slightest, but that just seems like a question that she would take offense to, if this were another life.
But it's not. It's this one, and she's not sure how to answer his question because, no, she's never had a boyfriend, and she always figured it was because none of them ever had interest in her, and she's never had a girlfriend, either, but she knows that there was something about the way Rachel's lips pushed against hers...
It seems like the shit that people make movies about and write books about and compose sappy love songs about.
She doesn't want to say it's love, because, really, how would she know, and adding love on top of all the other things going on with her wouldn't be a good idea. At all. She's painfully aware of that.
"I don't know." she finally says, because she doesn't. "I don't—maybe I'm Rachel-sexual?"
"She'll love that." Sam says, laughing slightly.
"Yeah." She bites on the outside of her bottom lip. "Do you think I'm gay, Sam?"
His cheeks puff up and then he exhales and pushes a hand through his hair. "I can't—jesus, that's not for me to say, Luce."
"I'm not asking you to tell me that I am." Lucy says, patiently. "I'm just asking you if you think I am."
"I don't know." He says, and Lucy sort of deflates. "You're not—I mean, you're not straight, I guess, since you enjoyed kissing Rachel but—oh, fuck. Your parents."
And Lucy sucks in a slight breath when she thinks about it because, yeah, her mom has been amazing lately (amazing to the point of being a little bit annoying, yes, but still), but if she just sits her down in the middle of breakfast or lunch or dinner (somehow she imagines having enough courage to bring it up over some food of some sort) and tells her that she thinks she's gay or feels like having relations with girls, then...
She's not sure. It might ruin everything and, wow, yeah, she doesn't want that, by any means at all.
Her mom she's not worried about, because Lucy feels the love your children no matter what vibe in Judy, barely there or not.
Her father, on the other hand, is another story.
God, she doesn't even want to think of what he'd do. Pop a blood vessel, maybe. Disown her, kick her out, make her start going to mass during the week, make her get and exorcism. Kill her, even, if he thinks it's that serious.
"If you want." Sam says, interrupting her thoughts softly. "Or if it comes to that, or something, you can live with me. I mean, if you come out and get kicked out, and you tell them why, then my parents would probably let us share a room, no problem."
And, jesus, she feels like fucking crying. Partly because Sam is offering to share his room with her if she needs it, and partly because the thought of her getting kicked out scares a lot more than just the shit out of her.
...
"I talked to Doris about you." Lucy says, and watches Rachel pause before she presses the start button on the microwave. "About us I mean. And what happened."
"Your nutritional therapist?" Rachel wonders.
"I know that's not – that those type of things don't really pertain to my nutrition, but – I don't know. Don't you think that anyone with therapist in their title probably has at least an BA in some sort of psychology?"
Rachel laughs, and then Lucy murmurs her thanks when a mug of apple cider is place in front of her. "No, but seriously."
"I don't know." Rachel shrugs, and then cups her hands around her cup and blows into it. "I don't really Google those types of things."
"What do you Google?" Lucy asks. A part of her in wondering just for the sake of wondering, but most of her actually wants to know, however creepy that sounds.
Lucy watches Rachel's shoulders shrug up and then down. "I don't know. Barbra Streisand?"
Lucy laughs and Rachel smiles and the dips her head down to sip at her cider before Lucy asks, "Why did your dads move here?"
"You'd have to ask them, though I think they liked the small-town-ness of it." Rachel says. "Why?"
She shrugs, and then stares into her mug and swirls the liquid around a little bit before she says, "It doesn't – I don't know. It just doesn't really seem like the place people like them would settle down."
"What does? San Francisco?"
Lucy sighs and shakes her head. "That came out wrong. I meant, people in Lima are less Broadway and show tunes and more football and sports scholarships. Less...LGBT and more – "
"Homophobic?" Rachel supplies easily, and Lucy cringes a little bit and thinks of her father and sighs. "It's – I think, back in the day, people were a lot more horrible to my dads for being as open and proud as they are now. I guess staying was sort of their way of not letting people bully them away from."
Lucy nods, and then, "I'm gay. I think."
Rachel sputters a little bit, and Lucy pats her lightly on the back. "Oh?"
"Yeah." She says slowly. "I liked...I like kissing you. It was nice and I'd kind of – okay, I'd really like to do it again, actually, but – "
"I liked kissing you, too." Rachel says, cutting Lucy off softly.
"Are you gay?" Lucy wonders, and it's such a fucking direct question that she feels her cheeks color after half a second. "I'm sorry, that was – "
"No. Bi, I think, or – is there a word for liking people for their personality and not really caring about anything else?" Rachel wonders. "That's what I am."
"Pansexual." Lucy says, and then when Rachel gives her a sort of surprised look she mumbles, "I, uh, I Googled stuff, last night, so – "
"Yeah."
"Do you like me?" Is what Lucy asks next, and, wow, she feels like she's back in fifth grade, asking all of these questions.
Rachel looks amused. "I don't normally kiss people I don't like."
Lucy swallows and then nods, "Right."
…
"Do your dads ever get tired of me being here?"
Rachel smiles and reaches for Lucy's hand, tracing her finger lightly over her palm. "No."
"Are you sure?" Lucy asks, and then leans forward a little when Rachel pulls on her palm. "Rach?"
"Mhm." Rachel hums, and then pecks her lips lightly, and – wow, Lucy doesn't think that'll ever get less awesome. "Do you ever get tired of worrying so much?"
"I don't know." Lucy says, because right now, she doesn't really know anything besides Rachel's lips are literally the best thing.
For a second, Lucy is kind of weirded out by the sudden change in relationship from friends to friends with kind of not really benefits.
But then she realizes that she's actually wanted to do that for a long time, and that the little jumps in her stomach when she would see Rachel weren't jumps of admiration or platonic excitement. They were jumps that said, "wow, I kind of want to kiss her" too quietly for Lucy to hear, if she wasn't paying attention.
But she's paying attention now, and the great thing about all of this is that when something says, "wow, I really want to kiss her," she can lean forward and she can do exactly that.
So she does, and then she feels Rachel's hands grab her cheeks and pull her a little bit closer. She has to scramble up onto her knees so she doesn't break her back trying to lean forward too much and she steadies herself with one hand on the bed and one hand pressing lightly against Rachel's side.
Lucy feels a hum of something that may be contentment against her lips, and she laughs lightly against Rachel's mouth.
"Dinner's ready if you – "
Lucy didn't think it was possible to literally throw yourself somewhere, but she just damn near did it. She feels her cheeks heat up and Rachel lets out a tiny sound of embarrassment and Hiram just sort of stands in the doorway with his hand on the doorknob and his eyebrows to his hairline.
"Sorry." He says, and then seems to compose himself enough to chuckle. "Sorry. There's dinner, downstairs. Fajitas. Your dad made them."
"Okay, daddy." Rachel says softly, and Lucy doesn't look up from Rachel's comforter until she hears the door softly click shut.
"I'm sorry." They both say at the same time.
"For what?" Lucy wonders, and Rachel responds, "For my dad. You?"
"For, uh. For kissing you and getting us caught, I guess. I don't – you won't get in trouble, will you?"
Rachel tips her head back and lets out a loud laugh and then reaches over and crosses her wrists behind Lucy's head. "We're seniors, Lucy. I don't think – if they do care, it's a little unnecessary, because I'm sure most of the people our age have had sex multiple times by now."
Lucy feels herself blush again, and she squeezes her eyes shut and looks towards the half open door so she doesn't glance at Rachel's skirt. "We should – um. Dinner."
…
It's awkward.
Leroy is obviously the more protective (more intimidating) dad, because he keeps sending her little glances that she swears say something like, you touched my baby girl; you die tonight.
Lucy suddenly feels an overwhelming amount of sympathy for the boyfriends that get caught kissing their girlfriends and then get chased down the street while the girlfriend's dad waves a shotgun in the air and screams something at him.
Lucy swallows. The Berry's don't really seem like gun people, so she should be safe.
Then again, she's also not Rachel's girlfriend, so yeah, she should be okay.
"You seem nervous, kiddo." Leroy says. "You're hardly touching your food."
Lucy pretends she doesn't see the way Rachel's head whips over in her direction.
"I...um." Not hungry is on the tip of her tongue, because that would save her a lot of embarrassment, but, god, she doesn't need another Rachel freaking the fuck out episode, because she knows that's what would happen if she spoke. "Yeah. Kind of."
Leroy chuckles, and Hiram grins. "We didn't poison your food, if that's what you're worried about."
"It's not, I just – um. What's – do you have a standard procedure for walking in on someone defiling your daughter." Lucy puts her head in her hands because, wow, bad choice of words.
"Defiling our daughter?" Leroy raises an eyebrow and Hiram snickers into his water glass.
"That's was – I should rephrase – "
"I think she's worried we're going to chase her down the street with the poker from the fireplace." Hiram says. "Right?"
"I – was, um. I was thinking a shotgun, actually."
Lucy shrugs sheepishly when Rachel gives her a look. Her dads laugh.
"You might want to tell your girlfriend to tone it down on the rom coms, Rach."
"Oh, um, I'm not – " Lucy starts, but Rachel interrupts.
"We're not – "
"You're not?" Hiram says while Leroy raises both eyebrows. "...oh. I just – I assumed since, you know."
"I'm not – I don't think we're ready for that type of commitment." Rachel says slowly, talking to her dads but looking mostly at Lucy and –
Well, normally Lucy doesn't like people speaking for her, but –
The ouch kind of outweighs the anger.
…
Dinner ends, and then Lucy and Rachel are outside on the porch, Lucy fingering the keys in her pocket.
"I'm sorry about them." Rachel says, reaching out to play with the pocket of Lucy's hoodie. "That was – god, that must have been horrible for you."
"It wasn't." Lucy says. "Not really."
Rachel nods, and then, despite it being a very girlfriend-y thing to do, leans down and brushes her lips lightly against Rachel's. "I'll see you later?" She breathes.
Rachel nods, and Lucy waits until Rachel has closed the door and switched off the porch light before walking down the driveway to her car.