Someone asked what endgame for this was. There isn't one. It was supposed to be a story about Amy coming out but it's sorta morphed into a new version of S1 and I don't know where it's going other than Amy eventually coming out to Karma.
Karma does finally show up, right around nine-thirty, walking through Amy's door and it's not so much a walk as it is a float and then she's dropping onto Amy's bed with a heavy sigh.
Amy's gotten used to that sigh the last few weeks, ever since 'Guess who's having a super sexy secret affair?' and she's even named it. It's Karma's 'I just did something I know you don't want to hear about but I'm making such a dramatic entrance that you have to ask and then I can tell you all about it without feeling guilty' sigh.
In simpler terms? It's her 'Liam Fucking Booker' sigh (though Amy tries really hard not to think about anyone, especially not Karma, fucking Booker.)
"So," Amy says, "I started doing some research." And that is true, though she makes a point of leaving out that most of that research was about Lauren's pills and her 'condition' (a term that Amy refuses to use because it makes it sound wrong and it's so not.) And yes, she's totally ignoring the 'sigh of many names' (and yes, she wishes, prays even, that she could ignore the cause of said sigh so easily.) "We need to set up a budget for household expenses and day care and what not," she says. "So I started there."
Karma sits up on the bed, cocking her head to one side and Amy knows just from that look that her ignoring has not been ignored. As used to some things as Amy has gotten (both willingly and with less… enthusiasm… in some cases) Karma is that un-used to being ignored.
"Right," Karma says, stretching the word out and there's that sigh again. "Sorry I was gone so long," she says. "I didn't plan on… it… taking as long as… it… did."
It.
It.
Fucking it and Amy wonders if she just keeps staring at the screen of her laptop, if she doesn't acknowledge it or pay it any mind or if she acts like it just doesn't even exist (and not like she's planning various and sundry and particularly gruesome ways for it to… disappear) if maybe it will just go away on its own. If it will cease to be a problem. If it will stop being a code word for 'him'... unless… maybe it isn't… maybe it's code for… it… and they did it and now Amy's got one more thing to add to her list of things not to think about.
"Did you know some companies are offering leave for both partners now?" she asks Karma, blatantly and obviously (even to Karma) ignoring the hook and the bait that the redhead's dangling. "We should use one of those for our project. They're very progressive."
"Sounds good," Karma says. Or, at least, that's what her words say, but her tone (and the look on her face, the same one she often sports in chemistry (and math) (and history) (and anything else with the word class after it, particularly the ones with him, when she's too distracted to pay even her usual little attention ) says something else. Something more along the lines of WTF, Amy? because they both have their roles in this little play and right now it seems like someone is forgetting her lines.
Except Amy's not forgetting, she's choosing, and as upset as it seems likely to make Karma, there's a certain sense of… pride?... in that.
"I really didn't mean to leave you with all the work," Karma says. "It was just that Liam really needed -"
And those two words (Liam and needed) are about two words too far for Amy, especially tonight, after Lauren and 'I think I'm gay' and the pills and the not conditions and the last thing that Amy needs is to have to pretend for one single second that she gives even one tiny fuck about Liam Fucking Booker's needs. She slaps her hands down on either side of her laptop and the noise startles them both and it's the first moment when Karma suspects that Amy might not be forgetting at all.
"Amy?"
There's about a thousand ways Amy could and, maybe, should answer that question that isn't even really a question. Ways like 'Karma, I want to hear about what Liam needs about as much as I'd like to squeeze a baby the size of Jenny out of my vagina.' Or, maybe, 'I'd like to hear about how you helped Liam with his needs about as much as I'd like to take Oliver and his tiny little cranes to prom' or 'I want to hear about what you and Liam did for five fucking hours as much as I'd like to confess the truth to you right here and now because, truthfully, they'd probably hurt about the same.'
She considers them all, for about a second each and then goes with "I'm gonna go get a drink. You want anything?"
"Um… yeah?" Karma says / asks and she's clearly thrown by the hand slapping into getting a drink pirouette Amy's just pulled but she has less than no clue what it means. "A water," she says. "Thanks."
Amy nods and pushes back from her desk, her palms still stinging as she leaves the room, quietly clicking the door shut behind her. She's so very proud that she makes it all the way to the kitchen before the tears start (and so very grateful no one is there to see them) and if it takes her a few extra minutes to come back with two glasses of water?
Karma's too busy texting on her phone with that smile on her face (the one that goes with the sigh) to even notice and Amy's not surprised in the least.
Karma and Amy don't find any more time to work on the project that week and that has nothing to do with Amy finding one excuse after another to put it off, both because she can't handle another night like the last one and because she and Lauren spend most every evening talking.
And that's both the oddest and most sort of awesome thing ever.
It's not like every conversation Amy has with Lauren is deep and meaningful and full of revelations. In fact, after 'I think I'm gay' and 'I know I'm Intersex' (which Lauren's never said but Amy did her research and she's not a straight A student for nothing) the BIG revelations have come not in giant confessions, but in the quieter moments, just tumbling out with the rest of the conversation and sometimes it feels like they're just one upping each other in the horrors of teenage girls.
"My parents are divorced," Amy says (and not without noticing that Lauren doesn't even so much as roll her eyes at the 'duh-ness' of that.) "My dad was never home and my mom was a bit of a… well… "
"A ho," Lauren suggests and Amy considers being offended on Farrah's behalf but it's not entirely untrue so she lets it slide. "My mom died when I was six," Lauren says, "right after we found out… and then my daddy spent the next few years trying to figure out what the hell Intersex meant and drowning his sorrows in women so he was, basically, a -"
"Ho?" Amy supplies and Lauren nods and they've got that in common so there's that.
Amy tells Lauren about discovering her peanut allergy by nearly dying and Lauren tells her about listening to her father ask doctors if she'd grow a penis. Amy recalls rubbing Farrah's back and saying 'there, there' after husband number three left and Lauren tells the tale of finding wife number two fucking her father's assistant during their annual Christmas party.
"My boyfriend," Lauren says, "is a neanderthal who, if I ever told him what I am, would probably assume I'm a dude."
"My girlfriend," Amy says, "is, right this very minute, making out with Liam Booker."
"You win," Lauren says even though, really, neither of them considers that any of it even close to a win. But there is something to be said for losing with company and Amy has to admit that she actually likes Lauren's company, more than she would have imagined.
Lauren's not Karma (no one would be) and there's not that sense of knowing the other person, of being so close you don't have to speak or wonder or decode. But there's something… nice… about discovering someone too, something Amy hasn't felt in a very long time. She's known Karma too long and too well and she just doesn't make friends easily, though lately that seems to be anything but true. Because now there's Lauren…
And now there's Shane…
Amy manages to avoid him most of the week, starting by ducking out of Mr. Matthews' class the day of the BOD. It's not easy to hide from him, Amy discovers. Shane, it seems, is everywhere. He's in line in the cafeteria, he's standing outside the door of every class they share (she's late at least a half dozen times that week and she's lucky not to get detention because then she'd be trapped), he's waiting by the bus and if she wasn't getting rides from Lauren, Amy knows she'd have to decide between facing him and walking home.
Walking seems far more appealing.
It isn't that she doesn't like Shane, she really does. Amy's got a real sense that underneath it all, Shane's not actually half as much of a jackass he sometimes seems. In an odd (very odd and kind of annoying and exasperating) way she even understands what he was trying to do when he outed her and Karma. Shane doesn't believe anyone should ever have to hide, even if hiding is the preferred orientation.
"Never be ashamed," he told her before Homecoming. "Never be ashamed of who you are or who you love."
Amy's not ashamed, not in the least. But the problem is that she understands what Shane doesn't.
There are a lot of reasons (a lot) to hide who you are (and who you love) besides shame.
She thought, briefly (very briefly, like the thought popped into her brain, waved, and then popped right back out) of telling Shane the truth, that they were faking it, or at least Karma is and that now she's not so sure. It had been Shane she'd imagined turning to, not Lauren (for so many reasons that seemed so obvious at the time, the pre olive branch time) and she's pretty sure he'd have been… OK… with it all. At least at first.
But then Shane caught wind of the super sexy secret affair (and Amy's not sure, but she's got a pretty good idea that the wind got caught by Liam saying something or Shane seeing something or maybe just by Karma doing something and that something being mooning over Liam like he's her sun and stars) and since then, Shane's been giving her pitying stares and shooting Karma dirty looks and dropping not so subtle (Shane doesn't know the word 'subtle' exists) hints that he knows what's going on and he's not happy about it. He blames Karma (because it couldn't be Liam because Liam would never) and Amy thought it probably wise to not give him any more reasons to not like her best friend.
So she avoids him (and his hints and his lectures couched in stories of 'friends' and his disapproving eyes every time Karma's within five feet) for most of the week but he finally corners her on Friday, by her locker, while she's distracted by the sight of Liam and Karma across the hall, standing just a little too close (they're sharing air) and Amy wonders how it is that Karma thinks no one notices.
Unless they're living in a world full of Karma's, someone is noticing.
Someone besides her.
Shane leans on the locker next to hers and tracks the path of her eyes, spotting his best friend and hers and the hearteyes shooting back and forth and the way Karma is leaning toward him and the way he has to keep moving his hand away because he's so close to grabbing her ass right there in the hall. Shane's not sure what Amy feels about it all (because she won't tell him and that's starting to piss him off) but he is sure that the whole thing bugs him on a level he's not used to. He's even starting to get mad at Liam and he's done that before but never in a way that makes him want to go and punch his best friend right in his pretty face.
Amy stares and says nothing and Shane leans and says nothing and that's just a whole lot more nothing than he can take. "Staring at them isn't going to make Liam burst into flames," he says. "No matter how hard you try."
It's a slow process, but Amy pulls her eyes away and turns her attention back to her locker and her books and tries really hard to not visualize Liam spontaneously combusting in the hall while Karam tries desperately to douse his flames with her tears.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she says, shuffling books and refusing to look at Shane for even a second. "Liam who? We know a Liam?"
She can feel Shane staring at her and she knows the snippy comeback (probably something about denial and Egypt or her head and sand) is locked and loaded but she keeps her face neutral and her eyes on her books, even if right then she doesn't know the difference between her chem book and her copy of Pride and Pejudice.
"Yes, we do," Shane says. "Liam 'trying to make a move on your girlfriend cause every straight guy wants to nail a lesbian and she sorta seems into it' Booker." He glances at their mutual besties again and frowns, the urge to smack one of them (he's not even sure which at this point) bubbling just below the surface. "I take that back," he says. "Karma doesn't seem just sorta into it. The eye fucking over there is reaching Internet porn levels and not like old school took and hour to download one picture porn either and… hey… where are you going?"
Amy's shut her locker and made it halfway down the hall before Shane catches up to her and she silently resolves to work on her speed in gym class (which is a total lie.) "I forgot a… book… in a… class," she says and she doesn't slow down or even bother looking at him to see if bought it because even Karma wouldn't have bought that.
"Hey," Shane says, catching hold of her arm, which finally stops her. "What's going on with you?"
Amy shakes her head and tugs her arm free. "Nothing. I'm fine," she says (lies). "Why would you think something's going on?"
Shane folds his arms across his chest and stares at her just long enough to make her uncomfortable (so, all of about five seconds). "Let's see," he says, "you texted me and asked me to back off Lauren with no reason, you haven't returned a call or text since, I'm pretty sure you've been avoiding me like I avoid hetero love scenes in movies, and now you're running away from me."
"I wasn't running," Amy says because that distinction helps.
Shane ignores her (cause he's never done that before) and goes right on. "If I didn't know better," he says, "I'd be taking this all kinda personally."
"Do you?" Amy snaps without thinking and without anything approaching Lauren-level bite to it and she's so gonna need some tutoring for that. "Do you know better?" she asks. "Cause maybe I am trying to avoid you and really, could you blame me?"
Shane takes a small step back, his eyes darting from side to side but no one seems to be paying any attention though if Amy's voice keeps getting louder, he doubts that'll last.
Amy takes a page out of Shane's book and doesn't stop even though she knows she should, she knows she hasn't gone too far. Yet. "I mean, let's see," she says. "You did out me to the whole school and you did orchestrate that whole insane homecoming thing and now your best friend is… eye fucking… my girlfriend." She adjust the strap of her bag on her shoulder and stares Shane dead in the eyes. "Maybe, after all that, I've just decided that you're more trouble than you're worth."
She doesn't mean it and she knows she doesn't and she's pretty sure Shane does too but right now, between the week she's had and the eye fucking and the fact that she's yelling in a school hall and Karma's not coming running…
She may not mean it but she just doesn't care. She can't. So she turns on her heel and starts off down the hall before Shane can say anything and she makes it all the way to the school doors and halfway to Lauren's car in the lot before the tears come and she can't stop them.
That's been happening a lot lately and it's really, really starting to get on her nerves.
A dozen people pass her, a dozen people who spend half their days staring at her and Karma and hooting and hollering and whooping it up whenever the kiss or cuddle or hold hands. A dozen people who voted them homecoming royalty and patted themselves on the back and celebrated how accepting and open-minded and awesome they all are.
A dozen people who pay no mind whatsoever to the crying blonde in the parking lot because one crying girl just doesn't matter. Not when there's another protest to plan or party to prep or a juicy bit of gossip about who's eye fucking who to pass along. One crying girl doesn't matter.
Except this crying girl used to. She used to matter very much, at least to the only person who mattered to her. Except that person isn't there and this crying girl doesn't know where she is and, honestly, she doesn't think she wants to.
And when Lauren finds this crying girl and takes her by the hand and leads her to the car and then to home and then to her room, where she stays the rest of the night, alone, her phone and her texts silent and her Facebook and Twitter and Snapchat all dead to the world, and there's not even noises in the hall, not a voice, not a knock, and sure as hell not a person (that person) curling up around her and holding her till the tears are done?
This girl… Amy… she starts to wonder.
Wonder if maybe she just doesn't matter at all.
