This is a lot a story building chapter. After this, it will start to stray from the plot of the actual show. But not entirely (No way am I giving up that threesome drama). Please review, fav, follow if you're interested. PS: I edited this at two thirty in the morning, so hopefully it's alright. lol.
Amy noticed something that worried her.
There- she ignored it, but it was there- that glint in Karma's eyes; where her nose scrunches up a little bit, and she has that damn mischievous smirk against her lips. Amy had gotten to know this look very well over the years (in fact, she'd very originally pegged it as The Karma Look). And it always meant one thing: she was up to something.
And when Karma was up to something, it hardly ever ended well.
And when Amy had noticed this look, she hoped to God she could ignore it. She'd continued trying to decide about her dietary choices- right before Karma had laid one on her.
But- to be honest; Amy saw it coming. The second she saw that little glint, and she started crawling her way across the picnic blanket.
But had she entirely suspected it? Somewhat. Amy had planted the kiss in the gym because it was necessary, but she wasn't sure if Karma would ever use that tactic again. Let alone for something that... well, had no real reason, really. Except for show.
But then again- there was that little sparkle of an idea in her friend's green eyes that made Amy uneasy as to what she was going to do next. And then the picture... well, that just added to her wonder; would Karma really go that far for a picture? Maybe. She doubted it, though.
Yet, there was something that worried her more;
Amy wanted it to happen.
Hoped- was maybe a better word. She wasn't yearning for it, or anything- but, she'd just be lying to herself if she said she didn't hope it would. Because she did; she couldn't stop sneaking peeks at Karma's lips, or wondering when it would happen next, or reliving that gym moment with just the tiniest hint of awe at the moment and how it... well, how it felt.
That worried her.
Sitting there, across from Karma, trying to compose herself- fascinated by the way her hair fell so perfectly over her shoulder's, her smile- even her voice suddenly sounded a little bit better. Softer. Sweeter. She'd never contemplated these things before, and now she found herself doing it- constantly.
Amy had tried not to find herself lost in the moment. But, regardless of her best (minimal) efforts, she found herself sitting in complete bliss and melancholy.
"Looks good," She had agreed, but it somehow just wasn't enough. Putting her finger on what it was that she was missing turned out to be a harder task than she imagined.
First, she found herself annoyed at Karma's use of her as a pawn again. Yeah, that must be it. But it wasn't. She'd decided that much about five seconds after the development of that idea.
However, that didn't mean it didn't add to the list of things that were making her feel this way. She was, in a way, jealous that Karma was puppeteering her like she was one of those creepy ventriloquist dolls, sitting on her lap and passively spewing out everything Karma was saying- and that's it. Amy was coming up dry in all other aspects of the situation. Karma was the one getting the guy. Sure, she'd said that she didn't mind their charade- but with every day, every new irritant- she'd found that to be less and less true.
And then... there was the fucking Skwerkle protest.
Lead by Liam Booker. Idiot.
And Karma was going along with it- only to impress him, that much was obvious. Idiot.
The whole thing sent Amy tip toeing towards the edge of their ruse; so much that she'd squirreled herself as far away from the whole thing as she could. Karma could do this one without her, she'd figured. Amy would go mope on her own, begrudgingly sneaking peeks towards the direction of the protest; all of the students with their signs and chants- there were a lot of things students at Hester didn't seem to get sick of- and protests were one of them. Amy had seen enough, she felt she owed it to herself to sit this one out.
She had other things to think about, anyway. Not that she hadn't already thought about them enough. Yet, it kept eating at her; Karma had said something about finding her a secret boyfriend. And no, Amy didn't think it was a good idea. But, she thought that maybe there was a grain of truth to it; she had to get out there, find herself someone she could connect with, and this feeling with Karma wouldn't be so mixed up. Maybe she was just lonely. Maybe she needed someone to kiss, someone to hug, someone to love. She hated to admit it, but maybe she was just too invested in Karma- and now, with this, there was just too many lost feelings trying to bury themselves in Karma. There were a lot of logical explanations; but she was still building up the motivation to tackle them.
That was, until the universe laid it out for her, in the form of a spectacle wearing, origami practising boy named Oliver. He hated protests just as much as she did. He felt just as estranged from their peers as she did. They were, for all intents and purposes- they should be- totally compatible. That was the thought that was all but shrieking at her from in the recesses of her mind- every time she looked at him "You guys are so ALIKE!"
"He's the kind of boy you've been WAITING for!"
"SHOULD BE SHOULD BE SHOULD BE WILL BE SHOULD BE"
It horrified her; should be. And if it wasn't being, she ought to make it be. (Is this how Karma felt?)
But- and still, fucking still- that damn universe liked to play around with her. If only they hadn't decided to hang out in the surveillance room. If only they'd chosen an abandoned classroom or hallway instead. Because when she saw the familiar face of her best friend on that screen, guitar in hand, bashfully strumming away- that's when Amy felt the should be. And it made her bolt from that chair and leave Oliver without a word- she had a mission, a destination, a place to be- and that was in the cafeteria, with Karma.
Her Karma, who hated singing in public. And still, she was doing it now and Amy was missing it- how could she be missing it?
Ever since her parents had gifted her with the child-size guitar at age ten, Karma had been reluctant about playing in front of anyone. Sometimes this included Amy. Other times, it didn't. Most times.
She'd belt out Britney Spears or Madonna or the occasional Pink Floyd, and she only got better over time (all the times Amy had to be backup singer didn't quite fine tune her skill, however). When she'd start writing her own music, the impromptu concerts dwindled down until they no longer existed, but Amy didn't mind, because sometimes Karma would share a song, and, sure, there were no chart-toppers yet, but it was clear as day that it was personal for Karma and Amy liked that. The girl was only getting better at that, too. So having Karma finally swallowing her stage fright and literally climbing a table to belt out something to distract the disgruntled people of Hester?
Big deal.
So Amy huffed and puffed and hauled ass into that cafeteria.
She, as politely as she could, elbowed through the crowd and pushed her way into the front row where she should be.
Should be.
There it was again; her should be. It swelled in her chest when she looked up at Karma, watched the way she moved when she sang- sang her... love song. The way she was coming out of her shell, evidently; Amy noticed the way her shoulders slowly began to drop, the tension ebbing out of her every moment nobody was booing her from her makeshift stage.
"I've got a secret inside," She sang humbly, eyes meeting Amy's; it was enough to see the relief, the comfort in noticing her best friend's now presence.
"It gets so easy to be someone else,
When I'm with you I don't have to hide,
When I'm with you I can be myself,"
Amy wished there was somehow more she could do in this moment. Part of her wished she could reach out and grab her- she wasn't sure where, or how, considering both of Karma's hands were busy strumming the guitar or moving chords- but she wished she could feel the warmth of Karma's skin close to her. The other half of her was too in awe of the situation- the words- the look- of her to really think too much about anything else.
"Something changed the moment we kissed,"
Amy couldn't tell if her heart dropped ten stories freefall or if it had just rocket boosted out of her body completely. So it wasn't just her. Karma felt it. Karma felt the should be.
And that meant they could figure it out.
"I never knew it'd feel like this,"
Karma smiled at her warmly, Amy couldn't believe it was happening this way.
But when the other girl looked away, Amy felt a moment of senseless toppling. Why was she looking away?
Getting onto her tip-toes, Amy tried to follow her friend's line of sight- and, oh yes, there he was. Again. Of course.
"We'll keep it hush hush undercover,"
It had definitely been a rocket boost, she decided. And this was the moment it came crashing back down ten times as fast into the Earth.
Congratulations, Amy. You just played yourself.
There was a lump in her throat,
"But it's a rush rush being your lover,"
Lover?
The bodies of all of the peers seemed to be crushing in on her.
Slowly, like in those horror movies where the walls keep coming in until they crushed the person alive. Taking a sharp, deep breath, she turned back through the crowd. Yes, somebody up there must really hate her. This wasn't how her should be, should be. This wasn't it. It wasn't crashing rockets and it wasn't fighting for scraps and it wasn't all of this God damn confusion. Amy didn't know why she was looking for it here.
And so she huffed and puffed and hauled ass and got the hell out of that cafeteria (ran away), back where she came from.
Screw Karma, and screw her ideas, and screw being fake lesbians. If she gets a secret boyfriend, then so do I.
But there was one problem; when she kissed Oliver there was... absolutely nothing. Micro movements of feeling. If Karma was rockets, he was... a popped balloon. It was quick, it was messy, and it could all be summed up as a big disappointment. He was a desperate grab and a pounding heart and plead that maybe she wasn't totally, monumentally, unavoidably- fucked.
She was.
When she was ten, Farrah had decided she was old enough to not need a babysitter; and she could start staying at home by herself while her mother was working.
"Those Ashcroft's," The woman had sighed fondly, "Bless their hearts, but they don't need to put up with me dumping you on their doorstep so often,"
So she was given a list of things to remember whenever she left: water the plants, lock the door, don't go out without calling, answer the phone... Sometimes her mother would leave something in the microwave for dinner. Sometimes she didn't (And when she didn't Amy would just help herself to some cookies and milk or a bowl of cereal), and she'd eat, by herself in the living room with the TV on and the lights out.
Until one night, while she was eating her Cheerios and watching a documentary on TV about African Wildcats, there came a rapping on the door. Freezing with her spoon in her mouth, Amy slowly put down the bowl of cereal and made her way to the door; standing on her toes to peek through the little eye slot. On the other side; there was Karma, rocking from foot to foot.
Unlocking the door, she stepped aside to let her friend in.
"Your mom should just keep dropping you off at my house for the night," Karma complained, without even greeting. She was toting a black guitar case behind her.
"Well, I have stuff to do now," Amy explained, just as sullenly, "Mom got petunias."
Karma scrunched up her nose, "Well, it's a long walk."
Amy shrugged, gesturing at the black case in her one hand, "What's that?"
Beaming, Karma struggled to zip open the bags as quickly as she could, pulling from it a little brown child's guitar, "Dad got this for me," She strummed over the strings, not creating any chords with her opposite hand. Holding it right even looked like a task for her. "I don't know how to play yet. But- won't this be fun? We can make a band,"
Amy agreed, nodding along- but seeing the guitar had brought some kind of sad nostalgia back to her. It was the first time she'd seen a guitar in person since her dad had left. He used to play; early in the morning, on the back patio, with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and sometimes, a glass of whisky by his feet. Sometimes a bottle.
It drove her mom crazy sometimes, but Amy couldn't understand what it was that he could possibly be doing wrong when she sat up on his knee (tried to. there wasn't really room with the guitar) and he strummed out an Elvis Presley song or some other tune. It was one of the things she liked best about her dad. And even though he couldn't sing for the life of him, he sure could play the guitar.
Naturally, he'd taken that with him when he left. But that didn't mean he didn't leave a few things behind.
"I think I could," Slowly, Amy tried to shake herself out of her melancholia- having a hard time getting the image of her father on the back patio out of her mind, "Help you learn how to play,"
At this, Karma raised a brow skeptically, "You don't know how to play guitar," She stated matter-of-factly.
"No," Amy shuffled her feet forward, as she moved, slowly gaining momentum, "But there's something,"
Her friend followed her wordlessly as Amy went through the living room, dining room, and into the unused office room. It held a few bookshelves, a couple miscellaneous boxes full of Christmas ornaments, and a dust-covered desk. "I don't know where it is," She admitted, looking around at all of the books that had piled up over the years. Cookbooks, children's books, the Lord of the Rings trilogy, a few How-To fix it books... she knew it was in here somewhere.
"What is it, exactly?" Karma questioned, holding her guitar by the neck in one hand- now more interested with the topic at hand than with her new toy.
"It was..." Amy struggled with saying it aloud, even after all these years. She would wring her hands and shuffle her feet and look, side to side, up and down, anywhere but the person she was talking to so that they couldn't see the disappointment that rang behind her eyes. They couldn't see her look weak. She had to keep her composure that yeah, she was fine with it, after all this time she was fine with it now. The time for being sad was done.
She was still sad.
Often.
"my dad's," She finished weakly, only meeting Karma's eyes again after she'd gotten the words out. At the mention of the man, she saw Karma's eyes soften a little, get a little sad, fill with a lot of pity. That's why she hated it.
"Oh," The girl was never really good at providing comfort. But she had her moments. This wasn't really one of them. "You don't have to give it to me, Amy,"
Shaking her head, Amy turned away. Scanning the bookshelves as an excuse to not look at her, that look, "It's okay. No one here uses it."
So they scowered the room until they found it; untouched for many years, but still with a wrinkled spine and worn pages; a book of songs and chords and diagrams. Amy had found it, pulled it from the shelf, and treasured it for a moment in her hand- for a moment it felt right- before she remembered she was trying not to look too long at anything that was once his, so she handed it to Karma.
"Thank you," She said earnestly, running her her hand through the pages.
"You're welcome,"
Naturally, thinking about it now; Amy couldn't help but feel a senseless grasping at thin air. She wanted it back, for no particular reason. She wanted Karma back. She wanted her to stop worrying about boys and come back. And, for a brief moment (followed by a moment of undeniable rage) she wanted her dad back. Senseless. Grasping. She wanted something back that was hers- and she didn't care what. She just wanted to stop losing things, stop giving things away.
And then came the fit. A monstrous cycle that chewed on itself but still somehow only managed to get bigger and bigger. Why did she want things back. Why were things being taken from her. What was being taken from her. How can she get them back. Can she get them back. She wanted them back. She didn't own any of those things. She had no right. But still she wanted- desperately, as a child does- screaming, pounding, kicking, crying- want want want give me give me give me.
All within a few seconds in which Amy hucked her backpack across her bedroom when she got home.
Stop wanting.
Mentally, she repeated it until she found herself completely exhausted. Until she was forced to take a seat on the edge of her bed, try to control her breathing, try to focus on something else.
And something else presented itself.
Her bedroom door swung open with such force that it nearly startled her out of her skin. Jumping, Amy's hand instinctively clutched her chest as the breath hitched and it took a moment, sure, but she realized she was staring right at... Shane Harvey?
"Shane?" She half-yelled, the blood still pounding in her ears, "Wha-how? Why? What are you-"
"Lauren let me in," He explained quickly, sounding inexplicably rushed.
Amy's brow furrowed, "That's weird,"
"Begrudgingly," He clarified, shrugging, "But still. I need to talk to you about something,"
Amy resisted the urge to groan, watching him hurry over and then, given his rushed demeanour and anxious tone, took a surprisingly gentle seat next to her. She scooted over slightly to give the boy more room.
"What is it?"
His face fell slightly as he reached out a soft, slow hand for her own. Raising a brow, Amy allowed him to take it. She hoped not to come off too short in her replies, but, she was already feeling a little bit vexed, and Shane drama was the last thing she wanted to put up with right now.
"It's," He took a deep, unsure breath. Amy leaned forward slightly, about to press him on before he finished, "About Karma, actually,"
Of course.
It's always Karma.
Everything involving Amy's life always, seemingly, by some extension, had to do with Karma. She didn't mind. She really minded. She minded so much that she shrank away under his touch and almost wanted to tell him that please, she didn't want to hear it- her mind couldn't take anything more to do with Karma.
But, it was still her best friend, and Amy itched to know as much about her as she could. She wanted to know anything anyone had to say about her. She wanted to measure it up, collect it, soak in it, hoard it.
But her mind was running on empty, and a little bit too much Karma and nothing else might cause her engine to give.
"Oh?" She said, trying to clear the muck from the gutters of her mind. Stay in the present. Stop overthinking.
Shane gave an uncomfortable smile, as though he couldn't believe that he was sitting here with her (Amy was more than a little bit surprised, herself).
"Amy, I don't know how to say this," He started slowly, the smile vanishing, "I'm really-"
"Just say it," She said quickly, trying to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. She wasn't quite sure she had the energy to pull it off, "Honestly, just..."
"Okay," He shut his eyes, "I saw Karma and Liam... they were being really flirty with each other at the protest today,"
Oh God, here we go.
"Like... really flirty. I don't know Karma that well, but, I know Liam... I don't know, Amy, I think... I think she's cheating on you."
She knew it. She knew the whole thing. What Shane didn't understand- was that this was the whole game. The Karma and Liam game. This is what drove the whole damn wheel, over and over, the whole charade revolved around this. He had seen. He had figured it out. But not entirely. He was still buying it.
So why did it hurt so much?
Why, when she knew- did it feel like he had just taken a knife and stabbed it into her chest, and was now trying to dig out all of the contents with that very same knife? Why did it make her throat close up? Why did it feel no different than it would had they actually been dating?
Was it only because she heard it from the mouth of another person? Someone who had no idea what was really going on?
Was it because Karma was able to make connections and she wasn't? And she was... Grasping?
"We aren't a couple," Amy admits, dryly, letting the words fall flat out of her mouth. Choking back the tears that were starting to burn in her eyes.
Shane gave her a look. One that was very similar to the look she got when she talked about her dad leaving. She held back a sob on account of that look, but felt one, fat tear fall down her left cheek.
"Oh," Shane simpered, "Don't say that, I don't know for sure, and whether or not it-"
"No, Shane," Amy cut him off. He still didn't get it. He still didn't understand. This is what Karma got- she got everything she wanted. And this is what Amy got.
The thought of that made a sob escape her throat, and Shane watched on, in stunned horror, uncertain how to respond. "We aren't a couple," She repeated, frantically trying to wipe the tears as they fell, "Karma and I- we faked it,"
The boy's face crumpled in disappointment, confusion, and several other emotions that Amy couldn't quite process at the moment. "Why?" He whispered.
A thick laugh escaped Amy's chest, "Karma wanted to be popular. She wanted to get the guy," She explained, grimacing, "And I went along with it because I'm so stupid,"
It's funny how a few moments of realization can feel like you're whole life has come crashing down on you.
Shane sighed; he still looked disappointed, but his voice was soft, "Don't say that. I guess it wasn't really you're fault, I was the one that probably gave her the idea when I outed you guys,"
Amy shrugged- she couldn't disagree with that sentiment. But he looked up, brows still furrowed in confusion, "But why are you crying if she's not cheating on you, then?"
And maybe this was it. This was the real coming out moment. She had already revealed perhaps the most fucked up thing she'd ever done- and Shane was still here, not angry, not accusatory. And he would surely to hell understand it more than maybe anyone else would.
"Karma's faking it," Amy said firmly, before dragging the back of her hands over her cheeks once more, trying to build the courage to admit it, admit it to herself, "I don't think I am anymore."
His mouth fell open slightly, forming a shocked 'o'. Amy nodded, confirming the thoughts he must have been thinking as questions fluttered behind his eyes.
"Amy..." He said slowly, reaching out again, "You have feelings for Karma?"
"I think so,"
She had been fighting this revelation since the kiss in the gym. But it hurt.
"I didn't realize until..." She trailed off, hoping Shane would be able to pick up where she left off. He did.
"But she...?"
Amy shook her head quickly, throwing her hands into the air, "I don't know. I don't know, Shane- it's all so fucked up,"
"And you haven't talked to her?"
At this, she shook her head even more forcefully. Even the idea of mentioning any of this to her made Amy's stomach flip, "No," She couldn't risk it scaring Karma away. "No I don't know what she feels."
That's a lie. She knew what Karma felt.
"Well, I know she really likes Liam," She couldn't stop the venom in her voice at the mention of his name- and Shane clearly noticed to, with the way he slightly winced, but then nodded understandingly. It certainly didn't take much to figure out why Amy must have held some resentment for the guy. That was clear in the heavy silence that followed the comment- until Shane sprung to his feet, putting his hands on his hips, "Well, hey- chin up," He spoke clearly, confidently, "You may be having Karma struggles- but I am officially at your service to help you through them,"
"Oh, goodie," Amy said sarcastically, sniffing- the tears were finally slowing down.
"I'm serious," The boy urged, "So, you're questioning?"
Questioning? Amy wasn't sure that's how she would put it. She'd never felt anything for another girl before- not until she kissed Karma. Or since then.
"No, I don't know," It felt as if a heavy weight was starting to push down on her, "I haven't had any other feelings for girls before,"
Shane raised his eyebrows, "Only Karma?"
Amy sighed, putting one hand up to her temple. She definitely felt a headache coming on, "Yeah," She replied miserably, "Only Karma."
The boy stroked his chin- it looked a little too much like scheming for her liking. "Interesting," He mused, "Well, either way. I'm going to help you through this, Amy. I got you into this mess, after all,"
"Thanks," He meant well. He really did, and she knew that, but she couldn't even begin to think about what helping could possibly entail. Even in the simplest forms. "But, Shane, if you don't mind, I'd like to... be left alone, for a while. I think I need to go to bed- ASAP,"
His eyes softened, but he gave a brisk nod once again, already heading for the door, "Right. Okay. No problem," Stopping in the door frame, he gave one last look over his shoulder, offering a genuine smile, "I hope you know you can talk to me about anything, Amy. We're in this together,"
If "in this" meant playing (or potentially playing) for the homosexual team, then, she affirmed, they were in this together. If "in this" meant Karma, she could only conclude that no, they definitely were not. But she was thankful he wasn't being pushy, and his support was stated, and she could turn to him. She really was. But sleep was all she craved. She dropped everything else and stripped, putting on pyjamas, and climbed under her covers. Willing her mind to turn off- to stop replaying her dad's guitar, Karma, kissing, and the interaction that had just happened. It felt like system overload.
She saw them kiss.
It was in the morning, they were in the same bed, he was topless and she was only in her underwear. It was a nightmare come true. One of his heavy, calloused hands gripping her jaw a little bit too hard and pulling her towards him, but she didn't seem to mind.
It made Amy sick.
Until the bed jolted slightly, and it pulled her from the horrible depths her mind was creating. Groggily, she opened one eye, and saw the pink shirt next to her stirring. Karma must have just been snapped awake from a dream of her own, by the way she jumped.
Ironic, Amy thought gratefully (although there was still a sour taste in her mouth). But at least it was over now- and that burning image was slowly disappearing from her mind.
Closing her eyes, Amy drifted off again into another blissful half sleep, if only for a few brief seconds before the bed was wobbling beneath her, as Karma stirred again. She heard a sharp intake of breath.
Opening her eyes, she saw Karma, staring right back at her. Her mouth open slightly, eyes a bit glossed over, and a small crease between her brow. Dazed and shocked.
"What?" Amy asked, trying to read the girls expression, "Do I have eye boogers?"
Karma shook her head, just barely. But she still had that look- why? Frowning, Amy raised one hand to check anyway- but was nearly (very) blindsided by Karma's head moving forward and connecting their lips together, without missing a moment to take Amy's bottom lip between her own.
And the word popped into her head again: ironic. She had been dreaming of watching Liam kiss Karma and now here Karma was, kissing her? Oh, how the cosmos sure had their ways.
With her heart pumping against her ribs, and her breath hitching against her throat, Karma moved again. Kiss. Slow.
But why?
There was no one around.
Just them-here-now- and Karma was kissing her (not that Amy wasn't loving it).
Blindly, she placed a hand against Karma's shoulder and gently pushed her back. The girl sensed it and pulled away, blinking, "We can stop right now if you want?"
But did Amy want to?
No.
Truthfully, that question wasn't entirely what she thought she would hear. She expected an explanation of sorts.
That was what she wanted.
But how would one casually bring that up without sounding like a douche? ("Why are you kissing me?" "What was that about?")
It would totally kill the mood (the one Amy hated to admit was building somewhere below the belt). And, maybe- actually, definitely- she wanted that more than a stupid answer. There would be time to ask questions later. There was only one right now in this moment to enjoy.
And Amy found herself shaking her head, "No," She whispered, barely audible, and reached out for Karma's (smirking) face again. Needless to say, the girl met her halfway. She cupped her jaw much more gently than fucking dream Liam did- yes, the same hand she thought she would be picking her eye boogers with only moments ago, but she tried not to think about that as she ran her fingers through the roots of Karma's hair, pulling her closer. Amy couldn't get close enough. Her body rolled in waves against Karma's, desperately trying to cling to her, desperately looking for skin on skin contact-
She inhaled sharply, waking herself.
Fucking Inception.
And God damn it why was she dreaming of Karma like this- way to make it 'round the clock torture, brain. She didn't want this (she wanted it so bad), she didn't need this extra hassle (or maybe she really did), and she really, really, really didn't want to feel guilty about it. She was Karma. Her best friend. Not the person she should be dreaming about dry humping (and she shouldn't be enjoying it).
Smacking her alarm clock off of her night stand, Amy sat up, burying her head in her hands.
She needed to get this under control. Herself, under control. This fantasizing was not okay. But how could she get something under control that somehow managed to worm it's way into her most mundane thoughts? Her shame built itself up on a pedestal next to a few happy childhood memories, now prodding at her, "how could you think of her like this, hmm? You've known her since preschool, she trusts you, and you're dreaming about getting off to this girl? How about this preschool version of her?"
No, no, no she didn't want to.
Maybe she was just... sexually deprived?
Even thinking those words made her shudder, feel dirty.
She'd always had a problem thinking about sex. It made her squirm, even the idea of it felt invasive, made her feel like she needed to scrub her skin and wish she could somehow get into her head to rinse out her mind.
But still... sometimes... sometimes she found herself looking at a person, at their hands, their lips, and she wondered how it would feel against her skin. In intimate settings.
Sometimes she thought about it, and then she felt dirty, because these were strangers and she would never trust them with something so fragile and vulnerable with such a... messy, and potentially emotionally devastating act. People can ruin people. And it just gets more complicated when sex is involved- she didn't have to have it to know that much.
Maybe... maybe she was just thinking of Karma this way because she was the only one Amy trusted whole heartedly. Without a question. And maybe that kiss in the gym just... mixed things up. And now Karma was the only person she could project those feelings onto.
Maybe she just needed to stay the hell away, and those feelings would leave.
Amy was pulling away.
Karma's mother may have told her on a few passing occasions that she needed to be more "observant", but, hell, she was observing this. It wasn't in the words, it wasn't in the actions, it wasn't in the text messages- it was in all of those little spaces in between. In all of those words, actions, and texts that weren't happening.
Karma may have been slow to pick up the chips, but who could blame her? She didn't see jealous Amy that often. Amy was humble. Jealousy wasn't really her forte- for the most part, when necessary, that was Karma's thing. So, yeah- she didn't see it at first, but now she felt like she couldn't unsee it.
And what had made her notice?
The very person Karma knew Amy had that jealousy for, deep down, hidden under layers and layers of goodness and a strong will; Lauren.
They were still together a lot. As the days and eventually weeks mumbled by- their ruse was beginning to die down; the excitement was gone. Karma didn't like that. She would admit it- if they weren't causing a scene, what was the point of "dating"? The hard truth was that if they split now that the flame started to burn out, the whole thing could easily be shrugged off for the publicity stunt that it was. And that wouldn't be good news- for either of them. It was the unspoken knowledge that rest between them, and so, they continued.
"You won't believe it," Amy eventually muttered (bitterly) after a long silence had ensued the first half of their lunch together. Karma had been waiting for it; she could tell that there was something brewing under her best friend's skin.
"Believe what?" She raised her eyebrows, as if she wasn't expecting some kind of drama.
Amy took a deep breath, and sat up a bit straighter, placing her fork down against her lunch tray as she did so. That told Karma that she was serious. "My mom," She started, grinding her teeth, "Guess what she got Lauren?"
"A Prada bag?" She inquired, only half joking.
Amy's blue eyes fixed somewhere into the distance, at nothing, "No," Her eyes shifted slightly, as though she realized just how envious she was being, "She got her a weekend trip to that Hot Springs Spa place- whatever it's called,"
"Oh?"
Amy nodded, picking up her fork again, and stabbing it into her green beans a few times, "Yup. For the both of them. They can go off and get the luxury treatment- I get to water the petunia's,"
And that's when it clicked; watching her mindlessly, angrily, jab the little plastic fork into the beans, not quite picking them up, not eating them. Except there was a small difference; Amy was jealous of Lauren, so she could talk about it. She was jealous that her mother had decided to pamper her step daughter instead of her own- but she knew the spa wasn't the part that Amy was mad about, no- it was the fact that she didn't even get an invite. And, knowing Farrah; not even the time to question her and see if she would like to go with them.
But this time- she was jealous of Karma.
But Amy, being the good person she is- wouldn't say anything about it. Wouldn't want to bother her or ruin anything, and so she would let it sit and fester in her head until she either got over it or blew up. That's the kind of person Amy was.
But God- figuring it out made Karma feel useless. She would suddenly notice Amy shift- start responding in short sentences, or make an excuse to leave- sometimes she'd avoid eye contact. She knew it must've been killing her.
Amy doesn't do jealousy and she definitely doesn't do guilt.
That was something they had in common.
T
he guilt part.
She felt bad that Amy was jealous. She'd tried to help Amy out- with that picture she posted of them on Instagram kissing in the courtyard. Religiously, Karma had scrolled through the feed of every boy who liked the photo- every boy who'd commented with a heart or heart eyes or a tongue or anything really, before Karma realized that it was hopeless and Amy was far too picky.
Yet still, every time Karma was with Liam she felt a little nibble- heard a little trumpet- of guilt in the back of her mind. Because she was here, with him, and she was alone- and obviously she was sad about it. But Karma wasn't sure what to do- she wasn't even sure about how she could bring it up to her.
So, she thought maybe the right thing to do would be to "tone it down". This idea occurred somewhere in the week where Karma had noticed Amy and Shane becoming close, whispering a lot, and just honestly being a little bit too friendly for her liking. (Karma didn't mind Shane, but, she'd be lying if she ever said she liked him. Something about him made her think the guy was bad news- Liam's best friend or not,).
Girls night.
The words lesbian, and Liam- would both be off the table. Like old times. Karma even turned her phone off- even if it was torture not to know what little messages from Liam could have been zipping through cyberspace and landing in her phone.
It may have been the weekend of her mom's bridal shower- which, in hindsight- Karma could admit may have been bad timing. But in the moment, she thought Amy would need her support present; what with Farrah and Lauren's blooming friendship (Super weird).
This is why Karma shouldn't have been so surprised when a pouting Amy returned up the stairs into the bedroom after a snack run. She dropped the few granola bars, water bottles, and other miscellaneous items onto the bed before silently sitting down next to her. It was a far different demeanour than the one she had when she'd left the room, not five minutes ago.
"What?" Karma asked, scooting towards her slightly, "What's the matter?"
"I hadn't realized," Amy said, her voice dripping with shame, "that there was so much stuff that needed to be done. And, again, Lauren beat me to it,"
There was a brief moment in which Karma's mind had to pedal to keep up and understand that the blonde was referring to the bridal shower. And, suddenly, she felt guilty that she had drug Amy into having a girls night away from her mom just to keep her from being mad about the whole situation. It had only made her feel worse.
"Well," She started, not sure what words she could use to give her comfort. Inhaling through her nose, Karma placed a reassuring hand on Amy's knee, "Did your mom ask you to do anything?"
She felt Amy pause, stiffen slightly, before shaking her head.
"Then you can't blame yourself for not doing more," She tried to smile, hoping that her friend would see that it was all okay, that she shouldn't be beating herself up so much. She would just be miserable running wedding errands, "If she isn't going to ask anything from you, Amy, then what more can you do?"
The girl inhaled deeply- it always shocked Karma to see her when she was down. It was as if she was trying to shrink into herself, the way her shoulders hunched forward and her head hung low. "Well," She mumbled, unenthused, "She did ask us to go with Lauren tomorrow to get the croqembouche,"
Go with Lauren to... "Get the what?"
"Croqembouche," Amy repeated, sighing, "Some stupid dessert that all the celebrities eat- apparently,"
She was dejected. That much was clear- and being locked in a car with Lauren was the last thing either of them wanted, she was sure, but- it had to be done. And support is what Karma was here for.
"Oh," Karma said brightly, perking up, "A croqembouche. Okay, well, we'll make the most of it,"
If making the most of it consisted of Amy and Lauren getting into an argument ten minutes into the car ride (Lauren may have egged it on, but Karma totally couldn't deny that Amy had started it.), then making the most of it was what they did. Karma had sat through the whole thing, holding her tongue, unsure how to proceed over such hostile ground. So, like a total dork, her first thought at solace was twenty questions. That didn't go over so well, but, it sort of worked so Karma figured she could chalk it up as a small win.
Arriving at the bakery felt like seeing heaven's very gates in front of her- only to get out and find them locked with the magical croqembouche hidden away inside. A moment of despair Karma felt but tried hard not to act upon- seeing the smug expression cross Amy's face from the front seat. However, when Lauren tilted her head back and let out a (literal) scream of frustration- she and Amy were on the same page, which was trying hard not to burst in laughter. Oh, the horror. The irony. Watching Lauren throw herself into complete meltdown mode outside of the bakery.
"It's not funny!" She screeched when she'd noticed their expressions- hands in her hair, "What am I supposed to do? Farrah is counting on me to bring her a dessert, and I promised a croqembouche. I talked all day, about the croqembouche!" She cast a desperate look backwards at the bakery, "What am I going to do? I'm the maid of honour for Christ sakes, I can't..."
At this, Karma's giggles were cut short as an intake of breath swept over her.
And her heart broke for Amy.
Amy in the front seat, her hands suddenly gripping the centre console. Her mouth twisted into some kind of look of pain- and Karma knew that this was news to her. Lauren being the maid of honour for her own mother's wedding must've been a hard blow. She tried to imagine what it would be like if her parents had solely chosen Zen to be a large part of their wedding- how it would feel if she had been entirely neglected in such an exciting event. It would be awful. The idea of it made her toes curl in her shoes- and then, she wondered what it would be like if all that had happened and if somehow, her parents only knew Zen for about a year before that.
Yeah, that would sting a little.
But what was currently stinging her was that she had no clue what to do. What she could say, with Lauren only feet away, that would make Amy feel better. She was coming up short, and she knew it was her obligation to do something- and soon, because she could see Amy mentally start spinning herself on an axis.
(Eyes shifting upwards repeatedly, as if she was trying to keep herself from crying. Jaw clenching. Fingers gripping. These were the little signs of danger.)
Desperately, she reached forward, towards Amy's hand on the console, and placed it over top of her friends. Amy looked at her out of the side of her eye, softening slightly, before lifting it out from under Karma's and instead entwining them together.
Karma let her squeeze.
She owed her that much.
If she couldn't help Amy with words, then she could be the vice that holds her together- no matter how hard Amy crushed her fingers between her own.
It didn't end there.
It ended in absolute horror.
Amy had destroyed the croqembouche.
And she had been sent to her room for the remainder of the bridal shower. So, by default, Karma was sent to her room, too (Not that she minded. Hanging out with Lauren and Farrah after the disaster seemed even more awkward than hanging out with an angry dry-heaving Amy).
"It's okay," She repeated to her friend, whom was pacing laps around her room, for about the sixtieth time since they had been exiled. "I know it kind of... Got to you, but it's going to blow over, it'll be totally fine. Just,"
Karma scooted forward on the bed, getting dizzy from watching the girl do so many rounds. She reached out helplessly, trying to catch one of Amy's hands in her own, "Maybe don't pull a stunt like that at the actual wedding if you ever want to see the light of day again,"
But her friend was still lost in extreme thought. Karma wasn't entirely sure if whether or not she was actually registering anything that she was staying to her- so she would keep rambling until something actually went through. "Don't think yourself into a coma, okay? Would you look at me?"
At this, Amy's steps faltered into a clumsy stop, and she did what was asked of her. The crease disappearing between her brows, only to be replaced by some expression that may have actually been worse.
"Karma?" She asked, just above a whisper, "Why do I ruin everything all the time?"
Something tugged at her heartstrings to see Amy- her Amy- so defeated. "You don't," She leaned forward some more, still reaching for her friend. Now she noticed this as well, and gently, Amy took the hand and allowed Karma to guide her to the bed. "You don't ruin everything, Amy. Why do you think that?"
Amy sniffed audibly, taking in a sharp breath, "I'm just..." She trailed off, her eyes glossing over, "I don't know, Karms. I always fuck everything up,"
"You don't," She insisted again- she hated seeing Amy cry. Hated it. Every time Amy cried, so would Karma.
"Sometimes I just get so angry," The girl pulled her hands to her chest, shrinking again. She shook her head, "And then I fuck things up. It happens all the time,"
"You don't," She wasn't sure what else to tell her. Karma had realized in getting older that it was very very difficult to convince someone of something once they had already convinced themselves. Her mom always said that the worst enemy anyone would ever have would be themselves- she tried to think about that, whenever she started beating herself up. She couldn't be that bad. A flawed person that is loved is not a flawed person. "Stop saying that,"
T
he girl sniffed again, and then sighed, wiping the back of her hand across her nose childishly. "I have snot," Amy mumbled, voice still heavy with sadness. But she wasn't attacking herself anymore- which was the most Karma could ask for.
She smiled through the tears she hadn't noticed had begun burning in her own eyes, "I don't care," Warmly, she threw her arms around her friend, knocking them against the sheets. Amy laughed thickly; Karma felt her chest rising and falling under her, and she couldn't help but giggle, too.
This is what they needed.
"I'm sorry girls weekend was such a bust," Amy apologized, as though they were sharing some of the same thoughts.
"It wasn't a bust," She assured her, patting her shoulder fondly- head still resting against her chest, "I always have fun when I'm with you. Stupid croqembouche, though,"
"Yeah," She could hear the smile in Amy's voice, "Stupid croqembouche."