buffalo1221

chapter two

The last year Azzi and Paige spent married before the divorce was full of fighting. It almost always came back to the same topic: Azzi’s nicotine addiction. She had vaped casually in high school and quit pretty much immediately after marrying Paige at nineteen. The habit had suddenly picked itself back up again four years later. It became less of a habit and more of an addiction almost immediately. Paige caught on pretty quickly.

It was hard. For one, Azzi understood why she hated her for having the addiction. Paige was never one to mess with drugs, even the less serious ones, and so Azzi knew raising a child with an addict was hard for her. But she also couldn’t quit. She needed the nicotine for her stress. She didn’t feel like she could confide in Paige and the isolation of not feeling understood by even her own wife was enough to keep her from talking to anyone else, either. So she turned to vaping.

The divorce felt like winning and losing. She got to keep the house despite most of the payment for it coming from Paige’s bank account. She got to keep most of the cars despite her rarely driving herself anywhere. The money was split about evenly despite most of it being Paige’s. It didn’t matter. Paige could make it back. Azzi would have a harder time doing that. And so she knows she should be grateful, but it stings. The only thing Azzi really cared about and that really could be equal was Kitty. Kitty, their sweet little five-year-old, the girl they had adopted so young. Equal custody of Kitty was all Azzi had wanted and it had been an easy thing to win.

They’re out in the pool again. The California sun shines down on them warmly, heating their skin and sending shimmering reflections over the surface of the water. Azzi wears sunglasses. She had tried to give Kitty a hat to wear, but she had refused, citing her need to fully submerge herself underwater in order to practice her flips. Azzi is holding her hands and leading her slowly around the pool. Kitty paddles with little kicks that send soft waves of water splashing behind her feet.

Kitty’s curls are pulled up in a sopping wet ponytail at the top of her head. Her goggles are on, her sweet brown eyes shielded by pink frames with blue lenses. It’s very tranquil, considering Kitty’s usual pool activities include a lot of kicking and spluttering and clumsy acrobatic tricks. “Mama, I like your swimsuit,” she says. Azzi looks down at herself. She’s just wearing a simple bikini with a floral pattern, the shapes wavering and blue in the water.

She looks up again at her daughter and smiles. “Oh, thank you. I like yours.” Kitty is wearing a baby pink one piece with a rainbow stripe printed along her waistline. Azzi had picked it out for her a month or so ago. Kitty smiles back at her, little cheeks pressing up into her goggles, her tan skin slightly pink. Azzi hopes it’s just a natural flush and not the beginning of a sunburn.

“Thanks. For lunch, can we have a corn dog?” Azzi can sense herself getting closer to the six feet end, where she can’t reach the bottom without her face going underwater, so she starts turning both herself and Kitty to flip and start traveling the other way. At Kitty’s request, she raises an eyebrow, her smile turning a little confused.

“A corn dog?” Kitty hums in confirmation. Azzi laughs a little at her, brows furrowing slightly. Kitty just continues to kick and look up at Azzi. The soft splashes coming from behind her legs are sweet, the gentle spray of pool water occasionally splattering against Azzi’s arms. “Where do you think I’m finding you a corn dog?”

Kitty tries to shrug, but it’s awkward with her arms in front of her. She blinks up at Azzi through her goggles. “I dunno. I had one with Mommy and I really liked it. I don’t nemember how she got it.” The comment is casual and Azzi usually wouldn’t think twice about it. But the mention of Paige gets her to pause, breath hitching, her slow, underwater steps pausing for a moment so short she doesn’t think Kitty notices.

It’s not that Azzi hasn’t thought about Paige since their hookup. She’s actually thought about her a lot, infuriatingly. But no one has brought her up in front of Azzi since then, and Azzi hasn’t brought her up to anyone, either. Paige has grown to become a concept that lives in her head and in her head only. The shame and the hatred and the heat, it all stays with Azzi. She’s forgotten that she’s a real person, one Azzi has to actually face while attaching all these feelings to.

She didn’t tell anyone about fucking Paige in the club bathroom. Not even Caroline, her best friend in the entire world, the one person she thinks she really should tell. She can’t. It’s so embarrassing. Caroline had come over just before noon the day after, bringing with her a juice she had concocted that was apparently supposed to cure hangovers. They had debriefed and Azzi had seen multiple opportunities to bring up what she had done. But she didn’t. She just told her she was so drunk she forgot most of the night. Which isn’t really a lie. Just a bending of the truth.

Azzi smiles down at Kitty. Kitty just looks back up at her with her same sweet face, same chubby cheeks, same soft kicking motions spreading waves of disturbed water across the pool. “I can order you one, baby,” she says. Kitty makes a small sound of excitement and makes her kicks bigger for a few moments. Azzi laughs as more cool water splatters against her warm skin.

It’s Friday. Her last full day with Kitty. Also her last day of peace, as she will have to watch Paige enter her property tomorrow morning. She really doesn’t want to face the other woman. She doesn’t know what to do, if she’s being honest. She still doesn’t like Paige. She still did get fingered by her, though. So she’s sort of just hoping those two truths can exist between both of them and they can go back to being ex-wives who never really see each other or talk. It would be too complicated to try to stitch things back together to be anything other than that, especially if that messy hookup is what tries to anchor said stitch.

She DoorDashes Kitty a corn dog for lunch and she eats the entire thing. Azzi watches her, fairly amused. She sits next to her at the kitchen table and eats a salad. Kitty gets ketchup smeared across her cheek and Azzi has to thumb it off of her, laughing. As they’re eating, Azzi gets a text from Caroline.

carol: omg az u might be rlly excited or u might kill me idrk

carol: soo remember how we had our pregame group and then also the bigger group at the club

az: so i dont rlly remember anything at all but like go on

carol: well basically the big group is like a gc

carol: and emi rlly wants me to add u to it

carol: anddd we’re going to a party tn

az: BRO

az: wait do u know whos hosting the party

az: im so scared im meant for the trashy going out lifestyle u keep inviting me to do things w ur more famous friends and im getting scared

carol: LMFAOOO NOOO THEY LOVE U

carol: its actually violet hosting

carol: which is why im like oh u should deffo come

carol: so im just giving u a warning that im adding u to a gc okay

az: wait why do i get deadass a 4 hour notice like every time anything happens

carol: sorry violet only like fr confirmed she was gonna host smth like two days ago and i just kept forgetting to bring it up

carol: but if ur in the gc u won’t have to rely on me u get all info first hand!

az: okay…im scared…

carol: nooo dont be evb will be chill with u in it

carol: everyone rlly liked u on sat

az: okay if u say so

She looks up at her daughter, at the way she’s biting the stick of her corn dog where there’s batter that hadn’t stuck to the hot dog she had finished. She doesn’t look back at Azzi. She’s too busy eating. Azzi reaches out and smooths her hand over the top of her head to comb her drying baby hairs back towards her wet ponytail. “Would you be okay if Stella came and hung out with you for a while until bedtime tonight?” She asks every time.

Kitty nods, turning her head to look over at her while her hand is still on it. She blinks and her little lashes bat up at her. Kitty is fine with it every time. She pulls the stick away from her mouth. “Yeah. We have fun.” She shrugs a little. Azzi laughs quietly. She runs her hand over the top of her head again and then drops it into her lap. Kitty raises the stick of her corn dog to her mouth again to continue gnawing at what batter remains on it.

Azzi loves being a mother. She loves Kitty with her entire being, more than she thinks she’s ever loved anyone in her entire life. Her mother had died when she was eighteen and she thinks Kitty, her Katie Cat, had come to her as a way to reassure her that she hadn’t lost the only mother-daughter relationship she’d ever have. She had been adopted at two months. Paige insisted on naming her after Azzi’s mother. Azzi had cried over how much that meant to her too many times to count. Paige was her strongest support pillar after her mother’s passing, even stronger than her father or brothers, and she loved her so much for constantly being so selfless.

That was why it hurt so badly when Azzi randomly started grieving her mother all over again at twenty-three and Paige was so busy Azzi didn’t feel like she could talk to her. Why it was so hard to sit at the dinner table every night and listen to Paige complain about how hard working as an actress was and Azzi had to sit there in silence next to Kitty knowing that she could barely even find work and that she had spent most of the time Paige was out of the house crying over her dead mother, why it was hard to sit at the dinner table when Paige went out and didn’t bring Azzi and she would cry herself to sleep after putting Kitty down. That was why she turned to nicotine.

Because what was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to bring up her own stressors and the fact she was suddenly mourning the loss of her mother all over again when Paige was so focused on her own work? Who else was Azzi supposed to bring this up to? She had just elected to live with it. Live with the weight of it on her shoulders, live with the weight of a vape in her pocket. Both were familiar, but only one felt heavier than it did the first time it was a constant.

Caroline texts Azzi again an hour later to tell her when to come to her house to pregame. She says it will just be them and possibly Emi because Violet hosting has temporarily disabled their pregame group. Azzi doesn’t mind. Violet hosting has honestly given her more peace of mind. Because Paige doesn’t like Violet. Azzi is free from her clutches for a night. She can hang out and get drunk with people who are more influential than her and hope that friendships will form without worrying her ex will try to fuck her in a bathroom again.

The rest of the day she spends with Kitty is lazy. She enjoys it. Her daughter is sweet and little and Azzi likes playing with her and combing her hair and kissing her face until she’s giggling and pushing her away. Kitty insists on watching a movie with her in their little theater in the basement and so they spend a few hours down there watching the same Disney movie Azzi is pretty sure they’ve watched fifteen times together.

And then it’s time for her to start getting ready for her party, showering while Kitty stands on the other side of the foggy glass door and talks to her over the sound of the water pattering onto the tile floor. She steps out of the shower and starts slicking back her hair and smoothing makeup over her features and picking out her outfit. Kitty picks out her jewelry, big hoop earrings Azzi actually approves of and a necklace she had given her for Mother’s Day a year ago. Azzi smiles at her and thanks her, ignoring the way her stomach clenches a little knowing that it was a gift Paige had bought. She still wears it. The diamond on it had done nothing to her.

Stella arrives and Azzi is off, leaving one last kiss on Kitty’s cheek. The Uber waits for her out on the driveway. She slips into it and her shirt, black with a fitted waist and a flowing top half, nearly gets caught in the door as she shuts it behind her. The Uber rolls out of the driveway and takes her to Caroline’s.

The drive is short. She steps up to the front door, the sun starting to set around her. She knocks. No response. She lets herself in, heels of her boots clicking on the tile. “Come to the kitchen,” Caroline calls. Azzi walks down the hallway until she’s stepping into the kitchen, warm and dying sunlight splashing through the window. Caroline is sipping a Diet Coke from behind the kitchen island. Her brows raise a little when Azzi steps in. “Damn, those shorts are small. They’re so cute. Where’d you get them?” Azzi laughs.

The pregame doesn’t last very long. They do a few shots and just sit there talking. It’s mainly gossip. Azzi almost wants to bring up being told that Violet is a heroin addict, but that would mean having to cite her source, and that would mean having to tell Caroline that her and Paige had talked and then fought and then fucked. So she keeps this to herself and instead mainly listens to what Caroline has to say.

Emi does end up coming. She brings Halle with her. Once again, both girls are kind and poised, knocking on Caroline’s front door to announce their presence before letting themselves in with long legs and shining smiles. They both hug Azzi and Caroline and pour themselves drinks, slipping easily into the conversation. Azzi likes both of them, laughs along with them, stands next to Halle and elbows her a little when she says something funny.

Emi’s hair is down in a sheet of shining raven, a dark tank top hugging her body with a mini skirt flaring softly from her hips. Halle’s mousy hair is in soft and natural waves. A smoked out brown wing makes her green eyes shine in the warm light of Caroline’s kitchen, a mini dress carving the shape of her body out in the space. They’re both beautiful. Azzi downs another shot.

The Uber comes. They all pile in, Azzi already a little wobbly on her feet. She’s wearing the same boots she had gone clubbing earlier this week in and she seems to only remember the little heel on them when she’s starting to become intoxicated and can’t balance as well. She and Halle sit in the back. They spend the ride to Violet’s house talking and laughing, Azzi’s body lax as alcohol warms her system. Halle’s eyes shine jade at her every time headlights pass. Her pupils are large with alcohol.

Violet’s house is large. Azzi knew to expect it would be big, but even then, she feels out of place as she squeezes out of the back of the Uber, grabbing Caroline’s arm from where she stands on the driveway to steady herself. Music leaks out from the shut doors and windows. The sun is down by now, the chill of the night sky streaking through the air and painting the house black and blue. It’s easily three stories, intricate detailing and large structures climbing off of the beautiful shape of it.

The Uber has to drop them off near the very end of the driveway because of how many cars are parked along the length of it. The house just grows larger and larger as they get closer, Azzi’s eyes widening slightly at the display of such obvious wealth. Emi and Halle lead them away from the car and up to the front door with an easy assuredness. Azzi and Caroline follow.

Azzi steps in behind them and is immediately met with the easy heat of many bodies crammed into one place, even the tall foyer of the house not enough to allow all of the warmth to rise. A large chandelier hangs over them from a ceiling so high Azzi has to squint at it through the dim lighting of the house to figure out how far away it really is. Emi starts pushing through the bodies close to the front immediately, determined to get farther into the house. Azzi and the other girls follow her. It’s so loud. Music sings over the sound of hundreds of conversations.

A large sitting room opens up from the doorway that Emi leads them down. Halle moves forward to walk next to her. Both girls greet a few of the people they pass as they continue walking, Caroline and Azzi behind them. Azzi leans farther into Caroline, turning a little so her mouth is by her ear. “I literally am friends with no one here. And there are so many people here.”

Caroline laughs. Azzi pulls away, smiling awkwardly at her. Caroline’s teeth shine in the dim lighting of Violet’s house. She leans farther into Azzi. “Dude, I’ve only recognized, like, three people I’m friends with. And it’s not even friends. It’s just, like, aquaintances.” Azzi laughs at this, the sound loud and bright even through the music. “It’s fine. We’ll find the people we were with on Friday. They’re all here.” Azzi nods.

The four of them all walk farther into the sitting area until they find a couch stuffed with people Azzi thinks she recognizes. Emi squeals a little. Azzi squints slightly through the dark and notices that Violet is sitting on the edge of it, a cup in her hand. The woman is grinning over at their little group. “Violet! Oh my God!” Halle’s voice draws Violet up out of her seat. Her smile opens a little more with her arms as they come up to start hugging them.

“Hi, guys!” Violet beams at them all and immediately wraps her arms around Halle, and then Caroline, and then Emi. The music pumps through the room. Azzi stands there smiling until Violet reaches her. Her smile deepens. “Oh, Azzi! I’m so glad you came, Carol said she invited you late. I wanted to see you,” she says, wrapping Azzi into a tight hug. Azzi hugs her back and laughs a little. She can smell alcohol so strongly on her that she’s honestly surprised the girl’s words aren’t slurring more.

Azzi squeezes her a little and then pulls away. Violet stays smiling at her. “I wanted to see you, too! I’ve missed you guys since Saturday,” Azzi says. She sees Halle pout a little out of the corner of her eye and Azzi turns and laughs at her expression. All four girls break into drunken giggling, the living room alive all around them.

“C’mon, there are drinks in the kitchen. Let’s go get some and then we can come back and talk with everyone,” Violet says over the music, waving them all to come with her. They all follow as she starts stepping through the room. People crowd it. Azzi thinks if she was any less tipsy, she’d be feeling incredibly claustrophobic. The bad lighting makes it hard to see much of anything and she trips over her own feet more than a few times trying to walk to the kitchen.

The kitchen bar is littered with cups and bottles of alcohol and open mixers. Azzi immediately finds a Diet Coke and a cup and pours most of it in before setting it down. The other girls are crowding the small area where all the alcohol is, so she stands there and waits for them to finish pouring it into their cups. Caroline spills half a shot of vodka onto the counter and makes eye contact with Emi before bursting out laughing. Azzi giggles and shakes her head.

The thick scent of something sickly sweet starts to creep over Azzi’s shoulders and wrap around her, cool and a little choking. She furrows her brows the minute it hits her nose. “It smells like a vape in here,” she comments aimlessly, turning to look behind herself. She does so just in time to see Halle standing there, looking at her blankly, a vape in her hand. The soft billow of the smoke has already mostly dissipated into the air. Azzi looks at her. One corner of Halle’s lips twitches up, slightly amused.

Azzi laughs quietly. Halle holds the vape out to her. It’s thin and sleek and painted a baby pink. Kitty’s favorite color, she thinks absentmindedly. She takes the vape from her and holds it to her mouth, taking a long drag of it. The smoke fills her lungs in a familiar way. Her eyes lid a little at the burning feeling. Halle just watches her, still half smiling. Azzi pulls it away from her lips and holds her breath for a moment before exhaling and watching the smoke slip from her mouth. Halle takes the vape back. Azzi grins at her for a moment longer before turning to pour herself a drink.

She has no clue how much alcohol she pours into her cup of Diet Coke. It’s very strong, disgustingly so, but she doesn’t really care. She’s not going to waste good alcohol. She sips from it as she follows her friends back into the sitting room. Her throat and mouth burn a little. Halle follows at her side, quiet but easy, the scent of her vape gone.

A few spaces at the couch have cleared up and the five of them sit down. Calliope has appeared in the time they were gone and they all hug her, too, and she sits with them on the couch. There are a few other people sitting there and on the ottoman facing the couch. Conversation lights itself easily.

Azzi finds out after Caroline and Emi whisper in her ear that she had met most of these people on Friday. She doesn’t remember most of them, but they’re funny and easy to talk to, so she just lets it all flow. Violet’s house is dim and loud around them and she finds herself easily wrapped up in conversation with the girls and guys sitting around her. It takes her a while to finish her drink, but she’s feeling warmly drunk by the time it’s gone.

She wants another one. She thinks she’s probably been sitting there talking to these people for upwards of thirty minutes and wants a new drink. Caroline offers to go with her despite being in the middle of a loud conversation with two other people to her side. Azzi declines to allow her to keep talking. Her first mistake. She gets up and wanders back into the kitchen, pouring herself another hefty amount of vodka. Her second mistake. She pours as much of a Diet Coke in as will fit and then turns around to glance around the kitchen as she sips on the cup. Her third mistake.

Azzi sees a group of girls doing shots over by Violet’s sink, two skinny brunettes and a masculine blonde. They throw them back easily and then turn away, smiling at each other through closed mouths. The blonde masc is Paige. The realization is immediate to Azzi. Her stomach sinks again, heart starting to speed up. She squints through the dark. Maybe she saw wrong.

Why would Paige be here if she hates Violet so much? It’s definitely her, the low lights of Violet’s kitchen cutting across her face and sculpting her into something very clearly resembling what Azzi had run into at the club. She feels her face twisting into an involuntary scowl. She watches as the two brunettes grab each others’ arms and then wander away from Paige, who stays leaning up against the counter next to the sink, looking down at her feet. She turns back around when they’re gone. Azzi watches her take another shot.

First of all, Azzi is extremely irritated. She thought that coming to Violet’s would guarantee her a night without Paige. And second of all, she is extremely drunk. Maybe she needs to tell Caroline to stop bringing out the nice vodka when they pregame at her place, because she usually needs quite a few more drinks to get to this point. Either way, these two factors mix deep in her belly and make her something she knows is horrible for her: bold. Paige winces slightly at the second shot. Azzi starts stalking towards her.

She can tell the exact moment Paige sees her. It’s like something physical breaks across her face, an unconscious clarity at seeing someone she recognizes, a conscious furrowing of her brows at the fact that it’s her ex. Azzi doesn’t care. If avoiding Paige wasn’t going to get her to leave her alone, maybe being the one to bully her first is the strategy to get her away.

Azzi walks up to Paige and glowers at her. Her stomach is warm with the churn of alcohol and of her anger. She squints at her through her lashes. Paige, once again, looks good in a way that makes Azzi mad. Her clothes are fitted nicely and jewelry hangs perfectly along her skin and she’s nearly shining in the lighting of Violet’s kitchen, the shadows of her face as harsh as the sharpness of her eyes. “I thought you didn’t like Violet.” It’s accusatory.

Paige just looks back at her blankly. Her brows are still furrowed. She looks annoyed. This, at least, pleases Azzi. “I don’t,” she says plainly. It’s a little gruff, voice slightly raspy. It travels on the undercurrent of the background noise.

Azzi scowls at her. “Then why’re you at her house?”

Paige squints at her. She shrugs a little, eyes still narrowed. There’s a slight snag to her lips that, once again, is a sign that Azzi is irritating her. “‘Cause I owe people things. Appearances ‘n shit. Technically, I’m DD-ing.” She glances over Azzi’s shoulder as she says it as if to look towards the people she’ll be driving.

This really does anger Azzi. She furrows her brows at Paige, crossing her arms over her chest while being careful not to slosh her drink around too much. Her stomach heats and twists over itself. “Are you fucking serious? I just watched you take two shots.” She nods her head towards the empty shot glasses on the counter behind Paige as she speaks. She can feel her bun move a little on her head as she does it.

Paige rolls her eyes, the tightness of her brows and forehead softening momentarily to complete the action. The shadow of her brow bone is still so prevalent that it darkens her eyes. “Relax, princess, I’ll be sober by the time people wanna leave.” She shakes Azzi off what appears to be easily. But Azzi’s angry. And she’s stubborn when she’s angry.

She glares at Paige through the dimness of the kitchen. Paige looks back at her, taking the heated stare. “I really have a hard time believing you’re gonna stop at just those shots,” she says, lip curling a little with something almost like disgust.

Azzi knows she’s right because Paige immediately becomes exasperated, rolling her eyes again. She crosses her arms and mimics Azzi’s pose. “Why does this even matter to you?” The words are biting, Paige’s voice sharp as it cuts through the music and the people talking around them rather than sliding with it.

She scowls again at her. “‘Cause I don’t want you endangering random people, Paige. Quit acting like that.” Azzi stops for a moment and notices that her heart is beating quick in her chest at the confrontation. Her gut feels hot with anger and she thinks the alcohol and the fact that she never speaks to Paige anymore is feeding into it.

Paige wrinkles her nose. Her eyebrows furrow even further. “You quit acting like that. Like…you’re tryna save everyone. You don’t get to be the good guy all the time.” The words are harsh, meant to sting where they hit Azzi’s skin.

Azzi widens her eyes a little in faux shock, her anger riding clear through the expression. “Oh my God, I’m the one tryna be the good guy? You literally pulled me away from Violet-”

Paige cuts her off. She leans forward off of the counter, suddenly getting closer to Azzi, her arms uncrossing to let her point a finger near Azzi’s face. “That was me being selfish, Azzi. I don’t care if you’re a heroin addict. I care if the mother of my child is. Kitty doesn’t deserve that.” These words, too, are biting. And they do sting a little where they hit Azzi. But they also just feed her anger, making her bigger and more irritated, glaring daggers into Paige.

“You’re such a fucking asshole. Just so you know, not caring about the lives of anyone other than yourself and your daughter doesn’t make you cooler than me. It just makes you out of touch and someone I wouldn’t want my kid around. But it’s different when you’re the one saying that about me, right?” She narrows her eyes and tilts her head at Paige sarcastically as she speaks. And Paige just looks at her. Her eyes are sharp and her features are sculpted. She says nothing back. Azzi looks at her for a few moments, watching her just stand there, and then turns on her heel and walks away.

She has to shove through a few people to get back to the sitting area she was in earlier. Her heart is pounding in her chest. The heels of her boots click along the wooden flooring. Her drink sloshes a little in her cup and she tries to avoid bumping into anyone with the arm holding it to prevent spilling. Her walk back is a little messy. She must be drunker than she thought, wobbling off balance as she steps. She gets back to the couch and sits down next to Caroline again.

Azzi notices that Calliope and Halle are gone. She doesn’t mind, just leaning farther into Caroline next to her. She takes a little while to slip back into the conversation as she calms herself from arguing with her ex in the kitchen and tries to focus around the alcohol clouding her. It’s fine. She sits next to her best friend and sips from her drink and listens and laughs as people around her talk.

She likes everyone she’s with. There are two girls and a guy sitting close to her who have been laughing and breaking into short side conversations with her all night and she finds herself easily entertained by them. The blanket inebriation everyone is made fuzzy by makes it easy to make friends.

Emi leans into her after a while and asks her to come with her to get a drink. Azzi complains that she still has half of one left, but Emi pouts at her, batting her lashes through the dark until Azzi sighs and gets up with her. She just doesn’t want to see Paige again. She’s really sick of her.

The kitchen is full of people again as they walk through it. Emi and Azzi hold each others’ arms to try and prevent themselves from falling, laughing as they stumble a little. There are people around the drinks again. Emi presses her way through. Azzi, still holding a fairly full cup, opts to lean against a nearby counter instead of trying to force herself into that space.

People surround her so wholly she’s almost a little intimidated. She thinks if she wasn’t drunk, she definitely would be. It’s mainly the same types of people she had seen crowded at the club: people she vaguely recognizes but isn’t friends with, people she can tell are more influential than her. Her eyes drag around the room to try and find any familiar faces without thinking. And she does find one. A good one this time.

Halle makes eye contact with her from a few feet away in the kitchen and grins. There’s soft smoke around her face again, making her already poorly lit features hazy. She’s holding something. Her vape, Azzi assumes. She starts walking towards Azzi. Azzi stays leaning up against her counter, raising her cup to her lips to take a sip. She raises her brows a little at Halle, who mimics the expression as she comes to stand next to her.

Music and conversation and laughter and chaos fill the space between them. Halle, silent, green eyes glowing almost gray in the darkness, holds out her vape to Azzi again. Azzi takes it from her and holds it to her mouth. She takes an inhale and immediately feels a tight burning feeling, different from what she feels while vaping. Her brows knit and she pulls it away from her mouth, coughing.

Smoke pours out in front of her. It smells like weed and it’s thick and burns on its way back up. She glances over at Halle, holding out what she now knows isn’t her vape. Halle laughs a little and plucks it from her hand as Azzi bends over a little, still coughing. “That’s not a vape,” she says, laughing a little even while coughing.

Halle snorts softly. Azzi’s eyes are burning a little, both from the coughing and from getting smoke in them when she bent over. She waves a hand in front of her face to ward off the cloud of marijuana. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Yart, not my vape. You good? Never smoked one before?” Azzi raises her cup to her mouth and takes a long drink, looking at Halle out of the corner of her eye.

When she swallows, she smiles a little, turning to fully face the girl standing at her side. It’s now that she can sense the faint scent of weed clinging to her body like a cloud, the haziness in her eyes that makes it very clear she’s crossed. She just smiles back at Azzi. Her canines are sharp and they shine even in the dim lighting. “Bitch, I live in California, obviously I’ve smoked a yart before. Just wasn’t expecting it. And it’s been a while. Usually an edibles girl if I want weed.”

Halle laughs again. Azzi smiles at her. Halle looks down. Her yart is still in her hand, the shape of it so different from that of her vape that Azzi’s surprised she didn’t notice the difference when she had first grabbed it. “I get that.” Halle’s voice is quiet, slurred, the smoke between them making the shape of her blur and soften. She looks up again, smiling a little. “Here, I can make it hurt less. Open your mouth.”

And Azzi, never one to really think things through, stands there in front of her pretty friend and parts her lips a little dumbly. She tilts her head back slightly and looking at Halle makes her eyes lid. She watches as Halle raises her yart back to her lips and takes a long drag of it, eyes fluttering softly. And then she leans forward and puckers her lips a little and exhales softly into Azzi’s mouth.

It’s hot. Azzi doesn’t really feel anything towards Halle, but it’s hot. She can feel some of the smoke splitting along the opening of her mouth and trickling down her cheeks and Halle leans a little farther forward to make sure most of what she’s blowing actually makes it inside of Azzi’s mouth. She inhales, feeling the same burn in her throat and chest, looking at Halle through her lashes.

Halle stops blowing smoke into her mouth after a few moments. She doesn’t move her head away. Azzi lets herself inhale it, hold it for a few moments, and then drop her head slightly to blow it out. Halle stays looking at her as she does it, a small smile turning up her lips and lidded eyes. Azzi stays looking back. She doesn’t cough this time. She blinks a little and her lashes flutter. Halle leans forward.

They’re kissing. It’s open-mouthed and a little sloppy, their inebriation writing itself thick into their actions. It’s fine. Halle’s a pretty good kisser. She tastes like weed, but Azzi’s sure she does, too. She’s made out with many women since becoming single, has even had a few one night stands. None of them have meant anything. This is no different. The heat of Halle’s mouth on hers just makes her feel fuzzy.

She licks into Halle’s mouth. Halle’s hand comes to steady herself on Azzi’s hip. She can feel the shape of her yart digging into her skin through her shorts. Azzi raises her own hand to rest against her upper arm, fingertips burning into her skin through the thin fabric of her mini dress. Halle licks back into her. Azzi’s lips are getting slicked with her saliva. It still tastes so strongly of weed.

A hand on her shoulder. Sharper than Halle’s, the presence of it burning through the high of both her intoxication and her makeout. She pulls away from Halle. Her brows furrow. Halle blinks a little and looks at her through lazy eyes. “Azzi,” someone says close to her ear. It’s Paige. She recognizes the voice, its stern undertone, the way it immediately sparks irritation within her. “Azzi, we have to talk, come outside with me.”

Azzi turns a little to look at her. She’s just standing there, looking as angry and as sculpted as ever, eyes dark in the dim lighting of the party. Azzi scowls at her. Halle’s hand is still on her hip. Azzi pulls her own down from where it rests against her arm, letting it come to her side. “Are you fucking kidding me? We have to talk now? Now is the time you pick?” She jerks her head towards Halle a little as she’s speaking.

Paige reaches down and grabs her wrist. The bite of her tight hold on it is familiar. She grabs her the same way she had earlier in the week when holding her back from hitting her. Right before they had fucked. Azzi’s eyes widen a little under her brow bone. “Yes. Come with me, c’mon,” she says, tugging a little to pull her out of Halle’s grip. The girl is too far gone to see it coming and hold onto Azzi, and so she just watches her with a slightly floaty expression, Azzi offering a sympathetic glance over her shoulder before turning forward again.

If she’s being honest, she likes a fight. Being drunk makes her stubborn and angry and she’s usually got a lot of anger to hurl towards Paige. Paige walks through the party and drags her behind her. Azzi repeatedly asks what she wants. Paige either can’t hear her over the music or is just ignoring her, because not once does she turn around to offer an explanation to Azzi. Her scowl deepens on her face until she’s sure it will leave a scar.

They’re walking to the entrance. And then Paige is pulling the door open and they’re walking out of the entrance, the cool Californian night biting where her skin is exposed. It’s still summer, and so she’s not cold, but the difference between the clean outdoors and the stuffy inside of Violet’s house tingles along her skin. Her entire body still feels warm. Paige just continues walking, shoes making dull sounds against the elegant porch. “The fuck do you want from me, Bueckers? Like, actually. What the fuck?”

Paige, for the first time since dragging her away from Halle, turns to look at her. She’s glowering. The moon is fat in the sky tonight and the shiny whiteness of it glistens along Paige’s skin and eyes as she looks at her darkly. “Why the fuck are you just sitting around making out with her?” The words come out biting. They start walking down steps. Azzi nearly twists her ankle looking at the back of Paige’s head as she does so. Her abdomen feels warm.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh my God, what now. Is Halle also secretly addicted to a hard drug? Is this just gonna be your excuse every time you don’t like me being around someone anymore?” Her voice is loud and slurred. Paige’s grip tightens a little on her wrist. She stumbles a little when Azzi fully steps off of the stairs. She’s still drunk. Azzi will kill her if she really does try to drive other people home like this.

Paige shakes her head. Her bun wags a little at Azzi as she does it, loose hairs hanging down from the mess. “No, that’s not it. We just…we need to talk.” Her voice is firm but quiet. Azzi can just barely hear it over the sound of the lingering but muffled noise of Violet’s house. Her tone makes one of Azzi’s knees threaten to buckle as she steps onto it, makes her gut feel heated and oozing.

She furrows her brows a little. Her anger is getting lazy in her chest. She tries to strike it back to life. “Where the fuck are you taking me?” Azzi means for the words to be mean and yelled, but they’re just thrown at Paige’s back, her entire body easily submitting to Paige as she just continues to walk her down Violet’s driveway. Her boots click on the concrete.

Paige sighs. “My car,” she grumbles. And Azzi might not be the smartest, but she isn’t stupid. She is almost completely certain that Paige is dragging her out here to fight her and then fuck her again. She’s also almost completely certain that the reason she’s doing this is because she’s jealous. She saw Azzi making out with Halle and got jealous.

She should probably retract the earlier part about not being stupid. She is stupid, because if she wasn’t, she would be struggling to try and run back inside the house instead of immediately becoming turned on by this. The warmth in her lower body starts to multiply. She just goes silent, watching Paige continue to walk.

They pass many cars along the driveway, parked in a long strip that lines the concrete. Azzi recognizes Paige’s dark Jeep standing in the line as they walk towards it. Her strides are long and Azzi’s are too in order to keep up. Her grip is still tight on Azzi’s wrist. The bite of it is starting to warm her further, brows furrowing, tongue peeking out to lick her lips. Paige seems to be in a hurry. Azzi doesn’t plan on stopping her.

She pulls on the door to the backseat. It pops open and reveals the interior of the car, the night blanketing all of the windows and painting it with darkness that makes it hard to make out the shape of anything. “Get in,” Paige says, tugging her a little. Azzi scowls at her. Paige is running her tongue over her bottom lip when Azzi turns to look. Something in her shifts, rolls over, makes space for new warmth. A fire is burning itself within her. She lets it burn with both anger and need.

Azzi steps into the backseat with a practiced ease. The leather seats are slightly warm and stick a little to the skin of her thighs when she sits down. Paige doesn’t wait for her to scoot over at all before starting to lift herself into the car. Azzi moves over a little, but Paige’s legs still immediately tangle with hers, door slamming shut behind her. Azzi reaches out blindly. Her hand scrambles around Paige’s clavicle until she finds the collar of her shirt. When she does, she grips it and pulls.

Their teeth clash. It’s messy in a different way than her short-lived makeout with Halle had been, less drunken sloppiness and more mean hastiness. Paige bites the swell of her bottom lip and Azzi gasps a little, mouth parting easily. Paige’s tongue is inside of it immediately. Azzi falls back against the seats. Paige goes down with her. Her body is a familiar weight on top of her. Azzi hates that it’s something she so easily recognizes, but she doesn’t feel like doing anything to push her off, so she just pulls Paige by the collar even closer to her.

Azzi’s bun is rubbing back and forth against the seat, her meticulous slick back becoming ruined the longer Paige nearly eats her face. She doesn’t care. She’s too wrapped up in the feeling of it all, of the way a coil is trying to form itself in her abdomen, of the warmth her entire body has been struck alight with.

Paige moves away to catch her breath for a moment. Every inhale and exhale ghosts along Azzi’s skin, the air smoothing over her. “You’re so immature,” Azzi breathes. She leans forward again to steal another bruising kiss from Paige while she’s still clearly trying to recover, ignoring the way her own lungs are burning.

Paige dips her head down slightly out of the kiss. She inhales again. “She don’t know this mouth and this pussy like I do,” she rasps. Azzi just moves to connect their mouths again. Her stomach swirls at the sound of her voice. She processes the words after a moment, though, and pulls away.

Her eyes narrow. She can barely make out Paige’s face in the dark, only the hollow shine of her pupils, the glint of the high points of her cheekbones. “Oh, fuck off. You wanna sit here and tell me you haven’t hooked up with anyone else? Not even made out?” Paige tries to lick into her mouth as she’s speaking. Azzi ignores this until she’s done, letting her tongue find Paige’s again.

Paige pulls away from her a little. “Not in front of you. ‘m not a fuckin’ whore.” The words are biting, meant to sting, meant to leave a mark. Azzi doesn’t care enough to be offended. She does care enough, though, to be petty, and so she reaches her free hand down between them and slips it easily down the front of Paige’s shorts. The blonde tries to arch away from her touch, but it’s too late. Azzi presses her fingers down maliciously onto Paige’s clit.

Paige cries out a little into the darkness of her car. Azzi grins lazily at her success. “Really? You just sounded like one.” Paige grits her teeth so hard Azzi thinks she can hear it. She starts circling her fingers around her clit, touch harsh. Paige’s breath hiccups in her chest. “Just a whore for me, huh? Still?” It’s said almost like she’s musing. Paige’s hands are too busy propping herself up to do anything to stop Azzi.

She tries to lean down to kiss her again, but Azzi doesn’t let her. She just continues circling her fingers on her clit. Paige does barely anything to move away from her touch. Her head drops a little, forehead nearly against Azzi’s chest. “Fuck,” she breathes. Azzi presses down into her clit again, the friction stopping. Paige’s breath hitches again. “Stop. Take off your shorts.” She breathes the words into Azzi’s shirt and then starts moving to try and remove Azzi’s hand from her pants.

Azzi would like to be stubborn and mean and continue abusing Paige’s clit, but she wants a release of her own to find her quickly, so she pulls her hand back out and scrambles back a little to try and undo the button and zipper of her pants. Paige gets off of her to take her own shorts off. Their breathing is heavy and out of sync and heats the car as they both fumble to take their clothes off. Azzi slides her shorts and her panties off over her boots. She watches as Paige pulls hers off over her shoes, too.

And then neither of them are wearing pants. Paige leans forward and Azzi thinks she’s going to kiss her again, but she just squeezes both of Azzi’s tits through her shirt. Azzi’s back arches a little at the touch. She holds her breath to keep from moaning. Her cunt twitches. She can feel how wet she is now that her folds aren’t covered in cloth and the cool air can hit her. It’s a little embarrassing.

Paige leans back again. She’s still panting, but Azzi is, too, and her cunt is throbbing. She squints through the dark to watch as Paige moves closer to her again. She grabs one of Azzi’s legs through her boot, the one closest to the back rest of the carseats, and holds it up. No friction is provided, but the movement still makes Azzi jolt a little, abs clenching. She pulls it up a little until her hip isn’t against the seat anymore and then slides her own knee under her. When she releases Azzi’s leg again, their cunts are brushing.

Azzi moans a little. She can’t help it. Paige grunts softly, pulling her other leg closer to Azzi, and then that does it. They’re pressed flush against each other, clits touching, the warm wetness of their cunts smoothing pleasure into Azzi. She immediately rolls her hips and is met with slick friction and a tight moan from Paige, which only heightens the feeling. “Oh my God,” she mumbles, head throwing back.

Paige exhales harshly. She grinds down on Azzi and Azzi’s hips buck a little involuntarily. “Azzi,” Paige breathes, so quiet Azzi barely hears it. Azzi just moans at the sound of her name. Paige grinds again, hips rolling, Azzi meeting her. The sound of their slick combining and moving fills the car. It’s filthy. It just makes Azzi wetter, entire body leaning into where Paige is between her legs.

The grinding picks up speed. They find a rhythm, messy and hasty, and both of them are moving quickly to meet it. The heat in Azzi’s abdomen is twisting over itself to create a knot she chases the release of. “Fuck, oh my God. Yeah,” she moans, hands scrambling to grip anything. The seats of the car are too smooth. There’s no traction, her nails scrabbling along the leather.

Paige hums. It’s tight, the end of it trailing off into a groan. The bare skin of her knees and shins dragging along the leather seats makes noise every time she grinds herself against Azzi. “Good?” The word is rasped. Azzi’s face screws up.

“Yes, holy shit, harder,” she breathes, squinting at Paige through the dark as she continues to grind on her pussy. The sound gets more and more obscene the longer they go on for. The darkness they’re cloaked in is even worse than that of the club bathroom. Paige’s figure is only illuminated by moonlight, the strong shape of her body rocking back and forth against Azzi. She likes the mystery of it. She likes the way it’s just the slope of her shoulders and the cut of her jaw and the mess of her bun.

Paige starts letting more and more noises slip, some of them low and groaning and others slightly higher pitched. Each one hits Azzi in the gut and wraps itself deep around the anticipation and pleasure that have found homes within her abdomen. Paige pushes at Azzi’s raised leg a little. The next time they grind into each other, it’s rubbing her clit even more directly. She moans lewdly. Her lower back arches off of the carseat. “Anyone got you moaning like that?” She can’t say anything. She doesn’t, just moaning back, trying to furrow her brows in irritation and feeling her entire face crumple with pleasure. “Just me, hmm?”

Her mouth won’t shut. It stays parted, head tipped back as she stares hazily up at the ceiling of Paige’s Jeep. “Shut- stop it. Fuck. Stop being so cocky,” she forces out, voice tight around her moaning. Paige says nothing. She just keeps panting, keeps moaning, keeps grinding against Azzi. Sweat has started to collect along Azzi’s skin. Their sex has heated the car. Azzi doesn’t care. “Yes, yes, oh my God,” she moans.

“Lift your shirt up,” Paige says after a little. Her voice is wobbly, the edges of it frayed with the threat of more pathetic moaning. Azzi obliges immediately, reaching her scrabbling hands up to her top to pull the fitted part of it up over her chest and head. The skin of her stomach is now exposed and her abs prickle a little. The shirt gets caught on her bun. She doesn’t care. “Take- take your bra off.” Her voice is still shaky. It’s hot. Azzi moans quietly and then arches her back off of the seat to reach under her back to fumble with the clasp of her bra.

It comes undone. The fabric slips off of her, and then she’s fully naked in Paige’s backseat, wearing only boots as the woman grinds into her. She peels it all the way off of her skin, feels the way her breasts move against her ribcage with every shared roll of their hips. “Fuck,” Paige breathes. It’s a moan. Azzi reaches up and runs the pads of her fingers over her own nipples, shuddering a little at the feeling. She feels Paige’s grinding getting more desperate against her. She smiles a little around the noises escaping her mouth.

The sounds are so erotic that Azzi can feel the tightness in her abdomen increasing at just the wet noises coming from between their legs. She reaches up and grips the headrest of the seat she’s laying across, back arching with every movement of their hips. Paige won’t stop panting and moaning. She wishes she could lie and say it irritated her that Paige felt the same pleasure from this that she did. But the noises coming from her are so sweet that they just make Azzi tighten in on herself.

It doesn’t take much longer until Paige is starting to shudder a little against her, her movements becoming sloppier. Every breath edges on a moan. Azzi’s back is arching so hard that she can’t even crane her head up to look at her. “I’m- oh my God, ‘m gonna cum,” Paige says, words slurring. Azzi’s face screws up.

“‘m close,” she gasps. She speeds up her own movements to still be in time with Paige’s. Paige is only quick for a few moments longer, though, and then she’s nearly crying out, entire body trembling against her as her orgasm physically overtakes her. Azzi moans a little with her. A rush of wetness finds her, their grinding losing much of its friction as Paige’s cum smears itself all over both of them. She continues moving against Azzi even as she shakes. It’s slower, though, and not as hard. Azzi whines a little. “Don’t stop. Please. Don’t stop.”

She’s so close. Her belly is so tight, the muscles of her legs engaging and relaxing as she gets closer and closer to cumming. Paige makes a soft noise. Her grinding only gets less pleasurable. Azzi knows she’s being a brat, but she looks up and glares at Paige through the dark, the muscles lining her spine relaxing. “Hurts,” Paige says, and then she’s fully pulling away, scooting herself back onto the other seat. Azzi whines again. “C’mere, I’ll eat you,” Paige rasps.

Azzi doesn’t have to be told twice. She scrambles to be sitting up, the space between her thighs soaked with her precum and Paige’s cum. Paige moves to lay on her back on the seats. Azzi can’t really make out her movement through the dark. Her cunt is throbbing, the promise of release so close. Her face is slightly screwed up. When Paige’s head is flipped and right between her legs, Azzi pushes herself up to be on her knees and then lowers herself until she’s against her mouth.

Paige’s tongue immediately swipes through her folds and starts teasing her hole, the wet muscle pressing around her entrance and licking into her. Azzi moans and nearly doubles over with the relief of her pussy receiving attention again. She leans forward, hands out to catch herself. They land on the bone of Paige’s hips. “Oh my God, oh my fucking God, yes, yes, please,” she babbles.

Paige moves to suck her clit into her mouth, lips and tongue warm and wet against the bundle of nerves. Azzi can feel how swollen she is in her mouth. She moans loudly again, elbows buckling a little. Her lower abs lighten impossibly farther. Her body feels fuzzy. She grinds a little into Paige’s mouth. Paige hums against her clit and then smacks her ass. The sting draws another lewd noise out of Azzi, who is so close she’s nearly shaking. The bite of pain, the warmth of pleasure. It’s too much.

“‘m cumming, ‘m cumming, shit, ‘m cumming,” she gasps, fingernails digging into the skin of Paige’s hips again. Paige continues sucking on her clit. Azzi’s body tenses and then releases, a moan pulling itself deep from her throat. She feels herself cumming against Paige’s mouth and skin. She shudders as warmth douses her, eyes screwing up. Her head drops. Paige strikes her again. Azzi moans again, entire body alight.

She starts to come down from her high, vision still fuzzy, breath quick in her chest. The darkness of the Jeep has swallowed them. The only sounds are that of their breathing and the gentle hum of the party that can just barely reach them through the quiet. Azzi leans back off of Paige after a little and grabs the seat behind her, pulling herself off of Paige’s face. She sits up against the door, legs up near Paige’s head. Paige stays laying where she is for a few moments.

Azzi just looks at her. The skin around her mouth is shining with Azzi’s cum where the moonlight can cut in and illuminate her. Her eyes are lidded, just barely open, and the white of them shine gray. She looks flushed. Her legs are still twitching a little where they’re crunched up by the door on the other side as she lays out along the seats. Azzi’s chest starts to slow its up and down motion. Her body is still fuzzy.

They’re quiet for a long time. Paige gets up after a while. Her hair is a mess behind her head. Azzi stays leaning where she is, watching with her legs slightly drawn up as Paige steadies herself. The moonlight traces her side profile. They’re both quiet. It’s oddly intimate. Azzi would like to sit there and say something mean and spark up the anger within herself again, but she’s too tired to. Her orgasm still rolls soft pleasure over her in calm waves. Paige turns around and reaches into the trunk behind her.

Quiet rustling. Azzi just watches. Paige leans back from the trunk and produces a bundle of cloth. It looks like t-shirt fabric. Azzi quirks one of her brows up. Paige starts wiping her face with it, smoothing it over her mouth and chin. “You keep a cum rag in your car?” It’s disbelieving but also slightly amused, a little more friendly than she thinks it maybe should come out as. She’s too drunk to care.

Paige looks over at her. They’re both pantsless, Azzi’s shirt off, staring at each other through the dimness of Paige’s car. Paige exhales a quiet laugh, almost a scoff. The sound traps itself in the cloth she’s wiping herself with. “Not a cum rag. Just…a shirt.” She moves it away from her face and starts to wipe at the skin between her legs. It glistens the same as her face had.

Azzi snorts a little. Paige glances up at her for a moment, the ghost of a smile light across her face. Her brows are still set firmly. Her pale skin makes her look like she’s made of ceramic in this lighting. “You’re a really horrible liar.” Paige rolls her eyes and looks down at herself again. And Azzi, despite herself, smiles a little. The bickering is familiar. The quiet voices and the warmth of their pleasure is, too, but from a different time.

Paige continues to wipe at the skin around her pussy. Azzi starts moving a little to reach around herself for her bra and her shirt to put them back on. One of her legs slightly kicks up involuntarily. The toe of her boot grazes the skin of Paige’s knee. Neither says anything. “‘m actually not lying. It’s just, like, left in here. It’s mine. I dunno. I mean, I guess it’s a cum rag now, but it wasn’t before this.” Azzi starts to clip her bra back on, squinting at Paige a little through the darkness.

“‘m just gonna believe you for my own peace of mind.” Paige starts crawling towards her a little as she says this, t-shirt held out as Azzi clasps her bra and starts twisting it around to pull it over her tits and shoulders. She thinks Paige is just going to hand it to her, but she starts wiping Azzi down herself, sweeping motions along the inside of her thighs. Azzi fights the urge to shiver. Her touch isn’t very soft, but it’s cleansing, and so she lets her continue as she reaches for her shirt. Paige suddenly brushes her clit and Azzi’s abs tighten at the stimulation, a wince flitting across her face. Her leg kicks again. It makes contact with the side of Paige’s arm. “Sorry. Fuck,” she mutters.

Paige glances up at her. Azzi’s breath is tight in her lungs. “No, I’m sorry, shoulda been gentler.” She looks down at Azzi’s cunt again, resuming her gentle swipes, careful to not get too close to where she’s sensitive. Azzi, oddly enough, appreciates the softness of the gestures. She pulls her shirt back over her head. Paige stops, pulling away. Looks up at Azzi with blue eyes that shimmer, glances down again at her pelvis. “You…good?”

Azzi looks down at herself. She looks clean enough. She’ll shower tomorrow morning, anyway. “Uh, yeah.” Paige nods once and then pulls away from her. Azzi reaches down for her shorts and underwear and starts pulling them on over her shoes. Paige does the same. It’s silent, save for the rustling of fabric. Azzi thinks it would be awkward if they weren’t so drunk. Their biting anger has calmed itself in the wake of their sex. Azzi leaves the car the moment her shorts are buttoned to stop the pause from becoming too long and too weird.