There was a part of her (a small one) that felt bad. There was the tiniest of parts, the teeniest of bits, the smallest of shreds of guilt that floated through her mind as she stood in the door and watched.
But then she remembered that she'd been doing that a lot lately. Standing in doorways (or just outside them, in the fucking shadows like some sort of scorned woman psycho stalker) with tears in her eyes, able to do nothing but watch.
And every bit of guilt Amy had flew away. Like, literally flew. Like, climbed up out of her body, stood on her shoulders and took wing, soaring into the sky and disappearing into the clouds, never to be seen again.
Until she saw the look in Karma's eyes.
The look she ignored for as long as she could (which wasn't long), the one she turned away from, focusing on her step-sister and Tommy, huddled together on the driveway, zooming in on the fire in Lauren's eyes (the one she could, and did, convince herself was just anger) as she glared at Karma.
"What the fuck, Ashcroft?"
What the fuck indeed.
Amy leaned against the door and watched the scene unfold in front of her and she had to admit, she hadn't seen this coming. She hadn't expected Lauren to run back to Tommy (Theo, maybe, but not Tommy) and she hadn't expected Karma to come-a-running after her (not her) (not Lauren) and yeah, that gave her a moment or two of pause, a second thought or two.
But not nearly as many thoughts (second and third and fourth and… oh… on and on to infinity and beyond) as that look in Karma's eyes, the one she was still ignoring (but not all that well).
"Where the hell do you get off?" Lauren was up then, charging into the way, stepping between Karma and Amy and no, Amy didn't miss the irony there, nor did she miss the way Lauren was poking a finger into Karma's chest and advancing on her like a tiny matador antagonizing the bull and that was when it hit Amy. That was when it smacked her between the eyes and she almost (almost) stepped out from the door and grabbed ahold of Lauren before -
"Me?" Karma finally tore her eyes from Amy (and that might have been the first time Amy was ever glad Karma wasn't looking at her) and glared at Lauren. "Where do I get off?"
Too late.
Amy realized it then, in that moment just before Karma wheeled on Lauren and all that anger the redhead was tossing around (and that look she was ignoring in Karma's eyes told Amy that every bit of that anger was meant for her and that was a realization in and of itself) came to bear on her sister. Lauren had no idea. No fucking idea. She and Karma might have been… whatever… (Amy still wasn't calling it a relationship) (or hooking up) (or dating) (or love) (fuck no, not that)... but it hadn't been long enough, it hadn't been a decade and then some of learning to read each other's moods and each other's signs and each other's warning labels.
Lauren was poking the bear. She was waving the cape. She was taunting the cobra.
And Karma was going to bite. (And not in the good way) (and Amy wasn't thinking about that and them either) (fuck no)
"Yes, you," Lauren snapped. Her finger was pressing against Karma's chest and there was almost a snarl to her voice. "What the hell gives you the right to come over here and punch my date in the face?"
Karma took a step forward, rising up on her toes so she (sort of) towered over Lauren who, to her credit, didn't back up in the slightest. "Oh, I don't know," Karma said, her tone all sweetness and honey (and Amy knew that tone and she briefly considered running outside and pulling Shane to safety) (but not Tommy) (fuck him). "Maybe since it was like… an hour ago when you were grinding on my like I was a fucking scratching post and I can still taste your lip gloss on my fucking tongue? Does that give me the right?"
"You?" Tommy chimed in from his seat on the driveway. "And you? And… grinding?"
"Shut the fuck up, Tommy," they said in unison without even bothering to look and Amy had to admit (silently) (to herself) (and no, she would never say it out loud) (ever) that watching them work together, even for just that moment, was kinda… um… well…
Yeah.
She was thinking she might need a minute.
"My lip gloss?" Lauren asked, and there was a thin (or not so thin) layer of disgust riding the edge of her words. "You sure about that, Karma? Cause I'm pretty sure my lips weren't the last ones you've tasted today."
If Amy had had any doubts as to whether Lauren had seen anything, they were gone and she didn't know exactly how she felt about that.
"You're right," Karma said but there was no defeat, no confession, no admitting anything and she didn't deflate quite like Amy had expected her to, in fact, if anything, Karma seemed to rise up even more. "But for the record? I'm sure it's yours. Amy doesn't wear lip gloss and even if she did, that kiss didn't last nearly long enough for me to still be tasting her and even if it had -"
"Don't," Lauren said, and her voice cracked but, more importantly, so did she.
It was so sudden and so shocking and all Amy could do was watch from the door, in no small amount of confusion as Lauren shrank back, as her finger dropped from Karma's chest, as she took one tiny step back, wobbling slightly on her heels.
"Don't tell me that she kissed you and you didn't want it and you pushed her…" Lauren was shaking and her voice was thin and reedy and… oh… fuck… she was breaking right there in the drive and Amy had to add yet another thing to her list of 'never saw it coming'. Lauren took another step. "Just… don't," she said and Amy could practically feel the air just rushing out of her.
It was so obvious, so fucking clear that even Tommy saw it. He managed to get to his feet and took a hesitant step toward Lauren, arms outstretched and Amy was almost (almost) (fuck almost, she was) glad he was there.
Lauren held out a hand, stopping him where he stood. "You should go," she said to him. "I'm sorry. This was… I just…" She raised her eyes and managed to look at Karma, but only for a moment, before she squeezed them shut and hung her head again, like she'd stared too long at the sun. "This was a bad idea," she said.
"Which part?"
Eight eyes snapped around, staring at Shane, the forgotten man (and that was fucking new) as he stood just a bit back, leaning against Tommy's car.
"What?" Lauren asked.
"Which part was the bad idea?" Shane asked, again. "Was it the sneaking around with Karma behind Amy's back? Or the giving up on her without a fight? Or calling Tommy in some desperate attempt to prove this was all some sort of momentary blip on the radar, some sort of ill advised experimentation instead of just admitting what it really was?"
"Shane…"
Amy watched as he shook his head at Karma, brushing her off (and that was, at least, normal) and walked past her, over to Lauren. She refused to meet his eyes, staring at his chest, her arms folded across her own chest, the classic Lauren pose.
"I'm sure I don't know what you're -"
"You know the worst part of all of this?" Shane asked, talking right over her. "The one person I always side with, the one person in this whole little geometric love mess that I actually considered a friend before today…" He looked up over the top of Lauren's head, staring right at Amy in the doorway. "She's the one who's wrong. She's the problem, she's the one fucking it all up." He shook his head again and Amy gripped the doorknob in her hand, her knuckles gone white. "She's the Booker."
"I'm the what?" This time it was Amy's turn to feel the weight of eight eyes staring at her, though she only really gave a fuck about two of them (well, maybe four) (OK, probably six) (and, really, even if she didn't give a shit about Tommy, for the most part, it wasn't like she wanted him to think badly of her.)
Fuck.
"You're the Booker," Shane said. "Lauren is you and Karma is… well.. Karma. And playing the role of Liam Booker, fuckboy extraordinaire, not giving a shit about the actual relationship -"
"They are not… it isn't… they can't…" Amy squeezed the doorknob in her hand (she was pretty sure there were going to be imprints of her fingers in the metal). 'Karma and Lauren are not a couple, Shane. There is no Karma and Lauren. There is no fucking… Larma."
"Not anymore."
Eight eyes… oh, you fucking get the idea… everyone looked at Lauren as her hand shot to her mouth, no one's disbelief that she'd said it greater than her own.
"Bullshit," Amy snapped. "Bull fucking shit." She finally left the door, taking three quick steps out to the driveway. "Not 'not anymore'. There never was. It was never real. It was just sneaking around and hiding in closets and it was just… just…"
"Just what?" Karma asked softly. "Just an experiment? That's what you called it, right? Just me experimenting, trying out something not so real, so I'd be ready for… well… you."
Amy stared at her, trying to find something to say, some words to make that sound less… fuck… less Booker. She couldn't bring herself to look at Lauren, couldn't let herself see what those words were doing to her step-sister.
"So, tell me, Amy," Karma said, nodding in the direction of Tommy, and then her fist, still clenched at her side. "Seem any more real now?"
"Or maybe…" Lauren's voice was so soft, so quiet that Amy almost didn't hear her. "Maybe we were never a… we… because we all know there's only one real we, right? Even if half of that real we…"
Lauren hung her head, her words trailing off into nothing and Amy watched as Karma stared at her across the drive, and Amy felt her stomach flip and flop and, for maybe the first time, she actually considered (for like a second) that Lauren and Karma might have actually…
felt something
something real
And, oh fuck, if watching them kiss, if imagining (quite fucking vividly) what was going on behind those closed janitor's closet doors, if standing outside Karma's house for twenty minutes while they were in there together...if all that had hurt….
Fuck. Just… fuck. And if that thought, that one split second of contemplation, that one hiccup of a moment when she thought Karma might have actual feelings for Lauren, if that fucking killed, then Karma's next words…
"Even if half that we is in love with someone else."
Those words weren't pain or agony or discomfort.
They were the end.