You put a hand on your chest, startled. You turn around to a familiar sight that you’re quite pleased about, despite coming down to the beach for some alone time. “Jeez— you scared me.”

Her hands fly up in defense, like she just got caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. “God— I’m sorry. I’m just a really big fan and— my name’s Ellie. Ellie Williams. I played yesterday. Don’t know if you saw…” She puts a hand out to shake yours.

The handshake is awkward and uncomfortable. “I know who you are.” You say, smugly. The truth is, after recently watching her in the qualifiers, you couldn’t get her out of your head. Her pretty face caught your attention first. You remembered that face from Junior Nationals when you were both sixteen. The way she played now is what kept you interested. She was nothing like the girl you once knew. She was fiery, unpredictable, and sometimes messy, but her raw passion for the sport was attractive.

“You know who I am?” She says, not prepared for that response.

“Yeah. I’m—“

“I know.” She interrupts. Of course she knows your name, she’s been watching you on TV for years after you absolutely wrecked any chance she ever had at nationals. Ellie could never stay mad at you for beating her that day, her admiration took over completely. “You’re ranked number nine worldwide. At eighteen. You’re like… a fucking goddess. Can I sit?” She starts to sit beside you in the sand before you can even approve of it. “You smoked me at nationals two years ago. You served so fast I cried after that match. Real tears.” She laughs. “You didn’t even look at me when you walked off court. You were ruthless. It was kinda hot.” Those last words slip out before she can stop herself.

You let out a breathy laugh, surprised by her boldness. “Hot? That I made you cry?”

Ellie shrugs. “Perfect form, ice cold stare, destroyed me like it was nothing after I spent my whole life training.” She looks at you with a mischievous grin. “Plus, I’ve always had a thing for girls who could crush me.”

You can’t help but smirk. There was something intriguing about her. “What’s your rank, Ellie Williams?” You say her full name teasingly.

Ellie shifts, her demeanor is suddenly less playful. “Lower than yours.” She laughs awkwardly.

“Top one hundred?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

She crosses her arms over her chest, her body language flaunting her insecurity. “Almost— but I qualified to be here which still feels pretty fucking sick. I know I’m not gonna win but give me a few more years and I’ll be up against you for the trophy one day.”

You laugh again, a real laugh. “Oh really? Are you gonna cry again?” You tease.

Ellie throws her head back with a scoff, looking up at the stars. “Next time we play you’re gonna be the one crying.” She jokes. She’s glad you can’t see how red her face has gotten in the moonlight at the sound of your laugh.

You look up at the stars as well, taking in the beautiful summer sky. “Well… I’m looking forward to that day.”

A slow, dorky grin creeps over her face. “Me too.”

You look back at her. “So why’d you follow me out here? What are your intentions? To flirt?” You ask boldly, knowing everyone always wants something from you. Advice, tips, money, promo, there’s always something.

Ellie feels caught. “I uhh— well first, I’ve been trying to work up the courage to talk to you for the past two hours so don’t think it was a careless decision.” She laughs, feeling the heat in her face again. “I kinda like… wanted to know if… if you wanted… a date? A date with me. I wanna get to know you underneath all the tennis shit. Fuck— not like underneath— that sounds bad—“ She panics.

Your eyebrows furrow as your head tilts in confusion. “A date?”

Ellie fiddles with her thumbs in her lap nervously. “Yeah. A date. Like… no tennis talk. Just dinner, or coffee, or ice cream, if you even eat ice cream… uhhh— just us pretending to be normal eighteen year old girls.” She looks down at her hands as she talks.

You sigh softly, not wanting to hurt her feelings. Normally this would piss you off to no end, but there’s something about her that you can’t quite shake. “I don’t date.” Is all you say.

Ellie nods. “I figured…”

You hesitate before the words slip out. “Why do you assume I date girls?” Keeping love out of your career was important to you.

She had never assumed anything, just desperately hoped. She knew there wasn’t a man on this earth that deserved a woman like you. “Do you? Like girls?” She asks, carefully.

“You didn’t answer my question.” You say, your voice shakes, making you seem human for once.

Ellie lets out a self deprecating laugh. “I didn’t assume. I just got so carried away with my crush on you that I guess I convinced myself that a girl as cool and badass as you wouldn’t date stupid, gross boys.” She rubs her sweaty palms on her jeans, nervously.

You laugh, a warm, comforting sound to break the awkward tension. “I don’t date guys at all. They smell bad. And I don’t like facial hair.”

Ellie’s expression is confused as she tries to figure you out. “So you don’t like anyone? You’ve never liked someone before? You’re just not human?” She teases, brushing your shoulder with hers playfully.

The confession slips out of you easily around her. “I don’t date anyone but I like to kiss girls. They’re soft. No facial hair.” You can’t understand why you’re opening up to her like this, but her presence makes it easy to.

A disbelieving grin spreads across Ellie’s face, a winning smile. “So, you’re saying I have a chance? Hypothetically? To kiss you one day?”

You giggle again, unable to stop yourself. “When and where are you playing again?”

“Tomorrow. Court three.” She says, too quickly. “Ten AM. Are you coming to watch?” She tries to sound nonchalant about it but fails.

You smirk at her, that teasing, soul crushing smirk. “If you play like an absolute beast out there— and win… then maybe, we could possibly hang out again.” You glance down to her lips and back up to her eyes. Super kissable. Ugh.

Ellie was suddenly really thankful for the loud ocean waves crashing, otherwise you’d probably be able to hear her heart beating. “I’m gonna win, I swear. I’m winning, and I want to see you tomorrow night.” She says, a little too eager.

You push yourself up off the sand, wiping your dress clean. You grab your heels and start to walk off. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ellie Williams.” You tease.

The sound of her full name coming from your mouth again, like you already have an inside joke, is all the motivation she needs to win any match

—

Ellie dominated the court the next morning, knowing you were watching. She smiled at you between every set, knowing she was killing it, knowing she was impressing you.

There was no room for mistakes, no room for hesitation. Her serves were faster than usual, her footwork was flawless. She was practically possessed, pure fire and adrenaline. She always wants to win but she’s never wanted it this badly. This wasn’t just about winning, this was about proving herself worthy of you. Every point was one step closer to the girl she’s been crushing on for years.

There’s murmurs in the crowd about her, how she’s not even ranked high but playing flawlessly, how it seems like she’s suddenly come out of nowhere as a new threat. You feel like you’re watching a fucking star in the making.

Ellie wins the match, making it look easy. The crowd roared for her but she couldn’t even acknowledge it. She tosses her racket down, wiping the sweat from her brows with the back of her arm. Her gaze finds yours immediately, giving you a shit eating grin. She knows she just won your affection.

Her confidence wavers when she walks off court and sees you standing there, arms crossed over your chest, waiting for her. She’s suddenly insecure about how sweaty she is. She slows her steps, not wanting to see too eager, but fuck, she’s eager.

“That’s what I wanted to see.” You say, your tone is prideful, like you got this confidence out of her.

Ellie approaches you close enough to whisper, “Told you I’d win.”

You lean in even closer. “Do you always keep your promises?” You whisper back in her ear.

Ellie lets out a shaky breath. “The ones that matter, yeah.”

Your lips get even closer to her ear. “Room 406. Nine o’clock. Don’t leave me waiting.” Your warm breath on her skin makes her shiver

—

Ellie has to remind herself to breathe as she enters your hotel room. This was your space that she fought to be alone with you in, and actually getting what she wants for once overwhelms her. She stood awkwardly by the entrance as you closed the door, unsure if she should sit, take her shoes off, or even speak.

“Hi, you.” You say, looking at her, admiring. Your tone is like a soft purr.

All hope Ellie had of keeping her cool girl composure was gone at the sound of your soft bedroom voice and the way you looked in that little tank top. Her throat is dry as she responds. “Hi…” To her horror, it comes out more like a squeak. She quickly cleared her throat trying to collect herself.

You gently take both of her hands in yours, they’re calloused from years of gripping her rackets. “Don’t be shy…” you tease, walking her closer to the bed. Ellie’s heart was beating so hard she could feel it in her ears.

She lets out a breathy laugh. “I’m not shy.” She whispered, lying horribly as her freckled cheeks blushed pink.

You drop her hands and step back, sitting on the edge of the bed. You lean back on your elbows, never breaking eye contact.

“Then show me how bad you want to touch me.”

Oh shit.

The energy in the room changed instantly, Ellie nearly forgets how to breathe. You didn’t even attempt any small talk to break the ice first. You’re lying there challenging her to touch you. The bold, flirty girl from the night before is suddenly gone, and she’s really fucking nervous.

Ellie slowly, carefully, steps between your legs, her hands grip your thighs, rubbing softly, staring down at you like you’re the most valuable work of art. She didn’t rush, didn’t dive right into this like she’s daydreamed about a thousand times, she needs to take her time and appreciate every moment.

One of her hands moves up from your thigh to trace your jawline, a soft, featherlight touch that somehow feels more intense than a desperate one. Her eyes follow her hand as it traces down the side of your neck, just feeling, and fuck, it feels good.

Both hands move down your chest now, over your breasts and onto your stomach. The room is quiet, just the hum of the air conditioner and your breathing.

Ellie hesitates. “You sure?” She asks. Being able to touch you like this without a date first feels wrong to her.

“Go ahead.” You murmur.

She gently grips the edge of your tank top, pushing the fabric up slowly. There’s no teasing smirk now, just quiet admiration. Her lips part like she’s about to say something, but she stops herself.

Ellie holds her breath as she pushes the fabric over your breasts, revealing your bare chest. She freezes, in awe of your beauty.

“Oh my God.” She mumbles, taking two handfuls, squeezing lightly.

You smile up at her teasingly as you tug on her hoodie. “Off.” You demand.

She does what she’s told, despite not wanting to take her hands off you. Her hoodie comes off and over her head in one quick pull, she kicks her sneakers off and watches as you fully remove your tank top, leaving you half undressed for her. Ellie discards her sweatpants while she’s at it, now just in a thin tank top and boxers.

You stand up from the bed to get your hands on her again. You meet her gaze as your fingers slide under her shirt, lifting slowly. “Can I?” You whisper, your face painfully close to hers.

She nods a little too fast, too eagerly, her arms come up above her head in a second. You pull her top off completely, tossing it aside. There’s nothing between your chests now, just skin touching skin.

Ellie’s body is like a trophy of her discipline. Her shoulders and biceps are strong, dusted with the same freckles as her face. Her skin is golden and sun-kissed from a whole summer of training. You take her chin between your fingers gently, tilting her head to meet your face.

Her breath hitches at your gentle touch. “What are you looking at?” She whispers, shyly.

You hesitate as your eyes continue to memorize her face. “You’re beautiful…” you whisper.

Ellie chokes— unable to find the right words. Beautiful. Her eyes lock onto yours, wide and green and full of emotion.

“I—“ She tries.

You cut her off with a kiss.

She freezes for a moment before kissing you back.

You hold her face as you kiss her fiercely, like you’ve been holding yourself back, because you have. You’ve been impatiently waiting for hours to get your hands on her. She grabs your waist as your fingers tangle in her hair.

Instead of matching your intensity, she slows the kiss, softening more with every press to your lips.

Ellie’s hands move down, grabbing you by the backside of your thighs, lifting you up, still not breaking the kiss. She lays you onto the bed gently, like you’re something fragile. There’s no tossing or roughness, just gentle hands guiding you down comfortably. She’s trying so hard to play it cool and not fuck this up.

Ellie pulls back from the kiss, breath ragged. Her heart is slamming in her chest, she tries to ignore it.

Her hands find the waistband of your shorts. “May I?” She asks, putting on a fake confident tone.

You nod, she tugs at them, pulling them down over your hips. She lets out a groan at the sight of your little lace thong. “You’re killing me.” She laughs, tossing the shorts to the floor. Her hands come up quickly to touch the lace. “Did you wear this for me?” She asks, placing a soft kiss to your hipbone.

You bite your lip, holding back a grin. “You played really good today. Turned me on.” You admit.

Ellie smiles against your skin, still placing soft kisses on your hips. “I got you all worked up?” She teases, finally finding her confidence.

You let out a breath. “Watching a pretty girl play like that is sexy. Especially when she’s doing it to impress me.” You blush.

Ellie’s fingers hook over the lace of your panties, pulling them down slowly. “The thought of this is what had me so focused out there.” She says, continuing to undress you. “Fuck, you’re so pretty. Can I keep these?” She jokes, holding your underwear up in her hand.

“No.” You laugh.

Ellie kisses the inside of your thighs, getting close to where you’ve been wanting her.

“Why not? I’ll keep them in my bag for every game. It’ll remind me who I’m playing for.” She jokes, kissing higher up your thigh.

“Because—“ You’re cut off by her tongue pressing down firmly, right where you needed it. “Fuck—“

Ellie hums, the vibration of it sends a shiver through you. The curse rolling off your tongue fueled her, she pulls you in even closer by your thighs, devouring you like she’s starved for it.

There’s no more shy, gentle touches. It’s full-on hunger. Her tongue speeds up, then slows down every time she feels you start to shake. She’ll stay here all night with her face between your thighs, right where she belongs.

“Tastes so fuckin’ good.” She mumbles. She switches to slow, teasing circles against your clit.

“Ellie—“ You moan.

She’s still shocked you even remember her name, moaning it in bed is something she can’t even begin to comprehend.

“Yeah, baby?” She asks, her voice muffled.

“Need more.” You whine.

Ellie didn’t need to be told twice. She takes your most sensitive spot between her lips and sucks gently. Your body jolts underneath her.

“Oh, is that what you like?” She teases, doing it again with more pressure.

Your hands grab at her hair, not pushing or pulling her, just keeping her there.

“Fucckkkkk.” You moan, your hands grip her hair even tighter. Your legs tremble around her head.

She wants to sweet talk you into reaching your orgasm but she’s too focused on the task at hand to even speak.

Her hands push your legs open wider, her mouth finds a steady rhythm that makes you start to squirm in her grip.

Her tongue slows down as she pushes a careful, steady finger into you. She looks up, watching for a reaction. Your head relaxes back into the pillows with a quiet moan. That was the exact response she needed.

She adds a second finger, feeling you stretch around her.

“Just like that.“ You moan. Your pleasure and praise send a thrill through her.

You lift yourself up on your elbows to look down and watch her. “I wanna cum.” You whine, as if asking for her permission.

Ellie’s eyes are dark with desire as they lock onto yours. She didn’t speak, didn’t stop, didn’t tease you, she kept her face in the heat of you, doing everything she can to bring you over the edge.

The sight of her face between your legs, so eager to please, is making your head spin.

Your body heats up at the edge of your release. Your thighs squeeze her head as you start to lift off the bed. She holds you down with her free hand as her fingers speed up, matching the rhythm of her tongue. You push her face into you, chasing more friction before the comedown. The sound that comes out of you is sinful as she pushes you over the edge. Soft whimpers and breathy moans, her name repeating on your lips. Just for a moment, you forget about everything. The pressure, the competition, the fans, the press, the cameras. Right now, it’s only pleasure.

“Oh my— fucking— God.” You choke out, chest heaving. Ellie’s movements slow down, her touch is gentle and soft as she works you through it.

Ellie’s breath is ragged as she finally pulls back for air. A string of spit connects her bottom lip to you. Her face is wet and glistening from your release. The sight makes the heat pool in your stomach all over again.

For once she wasn’t trying to play it cool, she was in a daze from the taste of you and the intensity of it all. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, crawling back up over you.

“You okay?” She asks, still breathless, her hair is messy and falling over her eyes. Her voice is so sweet and tender that it almost hurts.

You reach up and brush your fingers through her hair, fixing it. “Amazing, yeah.” You whisper. The moment feels way too intimate to be a casual hookup. Ellie’s chest is warm with the accomplishment of pleasing you.

She presses her body against yours, leaning in to kiss you softly. No hunger this time, no tongue, no intensity, just a quiet worship. “That makes me happy.” She mumbles against your lips.

“Are you still my number one fan after that?” You tease.

Ellie lets out a breathy laugh, running her fingers through your hair. “Yeah. Even more now. Don’t even care if it makes me look pathetic.” She smiles.

You press a quick kiss to her lips. “What can I do for you now? What do you like?” You ask, sliding a hand down her stomach, reaching for the waistband of her boxers.

Ellie blinked at you in confusion before shaking her head. “Nothing.” She says, confident in her decision. This wasn’t about taking turns, she was satisfied enough just seeing you feel good. Plus, she’s way too nervous to even get off.

“Nothing?” You ask, looking at her like she’s crazy.

Ellie hesitates before speaking. “How about next time? If you’ll let me have the honor again.” She jokes.

You let out a laugh of disbelief. “If you keep playing how you played today, I’ll consider it.” You say, pressing a kiss to her neck.

The way you were continuing to challenge her turned her on more than she would like to admit. “Ohhh, that’s how this is, huh?” She teases. “I gotta keep earning it? I haven’t won you over yet?” She asks, tilting her head so you can get more access.

You continue placing slow, gentle kisses down her neck. “Absolutely not. You have to get your rank up. And work on that backhand. It’s weak.” You tease, feeling up her biceps as you kiss down to her collarbones.

Ellie scoffs playfully. She wants to argue but you’re completely correct. “So I have to be a top ranked player before you’ll kiss me again?”

You pull back, looking down at her. The eye contact feels heavy as your tone gets serious. “Get your rank up. Get yourself into another Grand Slam. Cut the negative ‘I know I’m not gonna win’ bullshit that you said to me last night. Act like a fucking winner and maybe you’ll start to be one.”

Ellie freezes at your harsh words. The playful mood disappears from the air in a second. She felt like a puppy being scolded. There’s no sugarcoating with you, just cold, hard truth. She almost wants to defend herself but she knows you have no patience for pity or excuses.

Ellie nods, eyes wide and exhausted. Her jaw tightens before she speaks. “Okay. Okay. You’re right. And I’ll see you next year, then…” She says, her disappointment showing through in her tone. She kisses you one last time before getting up from the bed, knowing if she stays any longer it’ll seem too desperate.

There’s an awkward silence as you both get up to dress. You already miss the teasing and laughter.

“Here.” You say, tossing your lace panties at Ellie. She catches them quick, with ease, like the athlete that she is.

“For me?” She smiles, shoving them in the pocket of her sweatpants.

“Keep ‘em. I’ll see you next year.”

—

Year Two

You sat on a velvet stool, nursing a glass of wine at your hotel bar in Paris. You swirled the red liquid in the glass, lost in thought. You know you look pathetic sitting alone, and you know you shouldn’t be drinking, but the pre-competition nerves are getting the best of you.

A familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “Look who it is.”

You turn to her, with your eyebrows raised. “Ellie Williams? Is that you?” You joke.

You already knew she’d be here. You’ve been silently watching her for the last year. You watched all her matches, stalked her Instagram weekly, watched her climb the rankings relentlessly.

“The one and only.” She says, shrugging off her coat and sitting on the stool next to you. She looks older, more defined, more confident. Even more attractive than last year.

She orders her drink and settles into the seat. There’s an awkward silence considering you just ghosted her for almost an entire year.

“You look great.” You admit.

Ellie smiles, she knows she’s grinded, gotten stronger and more confident. She knows you’ve noticed, too. “Thanks. You too. Congratulations about Australia by the way. I watched you on TV that night.” She sips her wine, sheepishly. She DM’d you that night to say congrats, you never answered.

You blush. “You’re the one who went up forty spots in singles. Automatically qualified to be here. You’ve been working hard.” You squeeze her arm affectionately.

Hearing that from you was the ultimate trophy to her.

She gives a small, humble nod. “Worked my ass off.”

Your hand stays on her bicep, feeling her muscles over the thin fabric of her button up shirt. “I can tell.” You tease.

There’s a pause before she speaks, nervous to test the waters. Her voice drops deeper, quieter. “Do I get my reward?”

The reward you promised: to get you alone again.

You laugh softly. “Do I look like I’d give in that easily?” Your hand drops from her arm because you do look desperate for her right now, and to be completely honest, you are.

Ellie straightens her posture. “I did everything you asked.” Her voice is sultry and smooth. She leans in painfully close. “Don’t I deserve something?”

God, you want to kiss her right here, right now. “What do you have in mind?”

“Dinner. We’re in Paris, c’mon. I’ll take you anywhere you want. You can order the most expensive things on the menu and I won’t even roll my eyes.” She smiles flirtatiously, her foot nudges yours underneath the bar.

You shake your head. “I already told you I don’t go on dates. Career first.”

Ellie pulls back. “It doesn’t have to be a date. It can just be food. With me. You have to eat dinner regardless.” She’s frustrated, but riling her up is part of the fun for you.

“No.” You start, pausing to sip from your glass. “Sounds exactly like a date.”

Ellie’s voice softens. She wants to be mad, but she understands how devoted you are to your career. “Fine. No dinner… How about a walk? We can go right now…” Her gaze darts to the window to see if it’s still raining.

You sigh. “Fine.”

Once your glasses are empty and the tab is paid, by Ellie, of course, she doesn’t hesitate to grab your jacket from the back of your stool and help you into it like a gentleman. She adjusts the collar for a second too long, her hands lingering on your shoulders. She throws her own jacket on with much less care and attention. “Ready?”

The air outside is cool, but not cold. The pavement is still wet from the rain earlier. The streetlights reflect off of it, casting a golden glow. It’s Ellie’s first time in Paris and she can feel the romance in the air.

You walk in tandem, awkwardly, silently. Your arms are crossed over your chest, she just wants to hold your hand.

You break the silence first. “I saw your little meltdown on ESPN.” You look over at her, smirking.

Ellie lets out a choked sound. “Oh God—“

She was all over the sports news a few months prior after screaming at the umpire for calling one of her shots out when it was clearly in. Getting a warning only made her angrier. She threw insults at him, yelling ‘til security had to run and grab her. She was disqualified immediately.

The headlines were everywhere.

Up And Coming Tennis Star Loses Her Cool At The Miami Open

Ellie Williams Puts Her Career On The Line With An Emotional Meltdown

Williams Disqualified From Miami Open Over Verbal Assault

You watched the clip over and over. Her raw fury, her face red with rage as security held her back. It was the closest you ever got to breaking and answering that DM you’d been ignoring.

“I loved it. It was sexy.” You tease.

Ellie’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Sexy? You thought my career ruining televised breakdown was sexy?”

Your body finally starts to relax as you laugh. “Do you have a PR team now? You must be a nightmare to work with.”

Ellie’s eyes crinkle as she laughs, the embarrassment starts to fade. “I do. They were so pissed at me. Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“That was genuinely the best tennis I’ve watched all year. I love the way you play. You’re so unpredictable. So much fire and passion. So yeah… Sexy.” Your shoulder bumps hers as you walk. You both feel the sparks.

Ellie hesitates, trying to process your words. She’s been relentlessly scolded by her team for that. Her fans defended her, but no one praised her for it besides you. “So… You like when I lose my cool?”

You laugh at how ridiculous that sounds. “Yeah. Guess I do. We should get into an argument sometime.” You nudge her shoulder again, on purpose this time.

Ellie laughs, enough for the wrinkles around her eyes to show. She couldn’t help how intrigued she was by you. “We are never having a normal first date.” She giggles.

Your tone is suddenly less playful. “It’s not a date.” You remind her.

“Right. Can we argue about that? I’ll even yell.” She teases. “Personally, I think we’d be great together. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.” She says, no real venom in her voice, just frustration from how bad she wants you.

“Yeah? Why?” You push.

She doesn’t hesitate for even a second. “Because you understand me. We both devoted our entire lives to a sport before we even graduated high school. We didn’t grow up normal.”

She continues before you can speak. “You actually get me. Everyone tells me I’m too much. Do you know what they call me? Intense, unreliable, not worth betting on, emotional, embarrassing, competitive to a fault. You like when I’m too much. You actually see me.” Her head is down as she walks, the truth spilling out of her.

You feel a pang in your chest, you push it down. “And what do you have to offer me?” You ask.

“Well first—“ Ellie clears her throat. “I’m still your number one fan.” She actually looks up at you now, giving you a playful wink.

“Second, when I want something, I fight hard for it.”

She takes a breath.

“Third, I genuinely would do anything you asked me to. I don’t think I could ever say no to you.” She admits, her face heats up as she says it.

You try so hard not to smile. “Do you think you’re the only person who wants me like this?”

Ellie shakes her head with a breathy laugh. “No. Of course not… But I promise you, I want it more than anyone else.”

Her words and the romance of Paris get to your head. You want to grab her right there and kiss her, but you keep yourself composed. Before you can even think of a response, a welcome distraction shows up. A perfect view of The Eiffel Tower sparkling as you turn a street corner. You both stop walking.

Ellie’s eyes went wide in amazement, it was prettier than she ever imagined, and for some reason it made her want to cry. You don’t say a word, just letting her take in the moment. You’ve seen Paris a handful of times already, it felt special again looking at it through her eyes. Your head slowly, hesitantly rests against her shoulder. Your hand slides down her arm until your fingers are intertwined. Neither of you move, or speak, just sitting there in a quiet moment of intimacy.

After a minute or two, Ellie’s free hand lifts your chin to look at her. Her lips are on yours before you can even react. You practically hiss, turning your face away from hers. “No, Ellie.” You mumble, despite how much you really wanted that kiss.

Ellie froze, not angry or upset, but genuinely hurt. Her hand squeezes yours one last time before she lets go.

She looks you dead in the eye as she speaks. “You know, I really wish you weren’t pretending this wasn’t something special.”

Her words make you feel sick.

—

Ellie threw it all away later that week, losing a match in round two of the tournament. All her hard work leading up to this no longer mattered. She was fuming as she stormed into the locker room, her face red, eyebrows narrowed. She yanked off her jersey aggressively, throwing it, before sitting down on a bench with her head in her hands, moments away from falling apart.

You followed behind her quietly after watching from the stands. You entered the locker room, not rushing in, but waiting for Ellie’s reaction, like a ticking time bomb.

She looks up at you, exhausted and shattered, but doesn’t say a word.

“Hey.” You start.

Ellie lets out an angry sigh. “You here to remind me how much of a failure I am?” She snaps.

“How’d you know?” You ask, sarcastically.

She sits up straighter, defensively. “How’d I know?!” She repeats. “Because that’s all you ever do.” She says, harshly.

You want to defend yourself, but it’s useless. “What happened out there? Tell me.” You say.

Ellie’s head drops again. “I choked. Happy?”

You scoff. “Of course I’m not fucking happy.”

She closes her eyes, wishing she could disappear. “I got nervous by the third set. I couldn’t get my serve right. Something I’ve been practicing my entire goddamn life… Still fucked it up.” All the anger drains from her voice, replaced by embarrassment and shame.

“Do you actually want this? Do you even want to be a tennis player?” You ask. Your words cut deep, but you know she needs to hear them.

Ellie stands from the bench, her body language is tense and almost frightening. “What?!” She raises her voice at you. “You think I don’t want this?! I trained my ass off for MONTHS! Do you know how much of my life I’ve sacrificed for this?! Do you think I’d be here letting you insult me if I didn’t want this?!” She shouts, pointing a finger at you.

You stay calm and composed. “Do you want me?” You ask quietly.

Your question makes the anger drain out of her immediately, and she realizes how insane she looks yelling at you, pointing fingers like any of this is your fault. Her face softens, her arms drop to her side. “Yeah.” She sighs.

You take another step closer to her. “Say it like you mean it.”

Her voice is low, but firm. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.” She admits.

“Then prove it.”

Ellie almost wants to yell again, until it clicks in her brain that you truly have no ill intentions, and you’re pushing her to greatness, even if it hurts.

“Okay.” She says, nodding. “I will.”

“Will I see you at Wimbledon?” You ask, in a no-bullshit tone.

Ellie hesitates, knowing that will be the most difficult tournament of her career, if she even gets the chance to compete. “Yes.” She nods. “I won’t let you down.”

A satisfied smirk creeps up on your face, knowing you have her right where you want her. “Come here.” You demand, calling her over like a dog.

Ellie steps forward with no hesitation, waiting for whatever you’ll say next.

You put a gentle hand on her cheek. A comforting touch after her exhausting day. Her eyes close, she melts into it. Your lips meet hers, gently at first. She can feel the fireworks exploding in her stomach at the familiar taste of you. The kiss is risky, anyone could walk into the locker room, but the risk makes it even more exciting.

She pours a year of pent up emotions into that kiss. Her hands grab your waist, pulling your body flush against hers. She holds you tightly, steady, not wanting to let you out of her grasp. She’d keep you here all night if she could.

You pull back from the kiss, knowing this needs to stop before it turns into more. Her lips chase yours, like she can’t bring herself to let go.

“We can’t.” You whisper into her mouth. She knows it’s not personal, kissing in a public space is a terrible idea. Her fingers flex on your waist before she loosens her grip and pulls back.

“I’ll— I’ll see you in London.” You say, turning your back to leave before she can even properly say goodbye to you.

—

The first week at Wimbledon was ruthless. Every match was intense, absolutely no room for error. Ellie trained for this every single day after Paris. she fought hard on that court, making it to the third round, surprising herself with her endurance.

Not even you were immune to the chaos. This tournament is the best of the best, and you felt threatened by the skill of your competitors. Your doubt was already starting to creep in.

The day of the third round, you’re buzzing with anxiety. Or maybe it’s excitement, you can’t tell. You and Ellie were finally up against each other after years of anticipation. The cameras on you felt heavier than usual, the summer sun was suddenly too hot and suffocating. You knew no matter what, you couldn’t let her distract you. You had to win this.

There’s no friendly banter as you both walk out to the court, just loud silence and your heads down, ignoring each other. You keep yourself calm and focused, Ellie has a natural scowl on her face, one that’s always there when she’s ready to prove herself. The crowd is already murmuring, knowing there was something brewing between you both.

The match starts fast, aggressively. Ellie serves first, 120mph and coming at you so fast you almost freeze. You send it back to her with force, matching her intensity. There was no holding back now.

Each shot on that court was personal, everyone could tell, the fans, your coaches, the other players watching. This wasn’t even tennis anymore, this was a year of pent up frustration, feelings you can’t admit and two girls who really want this win for different reasons.

Your stomach twisted every time you made eye contact across the net. The playful, warm, flirty girl you knew was replaced by someone threatening, starting you down like a predator. Ellie always had a smirk on her face when she scored, this time it was an ice cold stare, sizing you up with every point. A look that proved to you she wasn’t here to mess around, she was here to win.

The tension thickened with every set. You won the first, she won the second, and this third set meant everything. Ellie’s first serve in the third set was weak. She’s known for this, letting her nerves get to her when it matters most. You send the ball back so fast she doesn’t even run for it, letting it fly past her.

“FOCUS!” You shout across the court. Half encouraging, half commanding, it felt like an insult to her, but if getting her angry is what it takes, you’ll do it.

Ellie rolls her eyes at you, despite secretly appreciating the push. The umpire gives you a code violation warning for shouting at her. You don’t regret it. She’s refocused and ready to play properly again.

The next few serves are merciless. She returned all of yours like she wanted to crush your confidence, because in that moment, she truly did. Every glance between you both was filled with pure venom. You have the crowd on the edge of their seats as you’re tied, next point takes it all. There was no telling who they were cheering for anymore, just two very loved pros giving it all they had. Neither of you had a grip on the match anymore, there was no telling who could win it.

You were both playing at your peak, but there was no gracefulness. You both look, and feel, completely wrecked. Sweat drips down your faces, breath ragged, like rivals going all out. There was no friendship anymore, no mercy, no smiles, no teasing smirks, just two girls exhausted.

Match point.

You practically blacked out as it happened. Ellie served, clean, fast, precise. You returned it with every ounce of strength in your body. The ball blazed across the court, perfectly angled to the corner, further than she could run for it in time.

Point. Game. Match.

There’s a moment of silence before the crowd erupts in applause for you. You barely react, just standing there, stunned.

Reality hits you hard: you just advanced in the biggest tournament in the world, but you took that chance away from Ellie. And fuck, it hurts.

You jogged across the court, reaching your arms out to her, practically crushing her in a hug. Ellie’s body stiffens in shock, because this wasn’t what she imagined after a month of silence and that ruthless game you just played. It takes a moment for her to relax and wrap her arms around you, pressing her face into your shoulder. There’s cameras flashing everywhere, thousands of people cheering, but in that moment it’s just you and her.

“I’m so sorry.” You say, just loud enough for her to hear. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” You repeat, before she can respond.

Her arms wrap around you tighter. All of Ellie’s anger and resentment melted, you could feel it under your fingertips. “Don’t be sorry. You’re amazing.” She mumbles into your skin.

You pull back enough for your eyes to meet. That pretty green stare disarms you every time. “That was brutal.” You say, smiling, still filled with adrenaline.

Her tired eyes crinkled in the corners as she met your gaze. “You’re telling me.” She laughs, softly.

—

Later that night, you’re showered and settled into bed, still giddy from the day. You’re hopelessly trying to catch some extra sleep, but you’re still feeling that adrenaline from your match with Ellie. Texting her has always felt off limits to you. You don’t even have her number after everything. You open Instagram, your notifications are flooded, but instead of checking them you search Ellie’s profile. You still don’t follow her, which you truthfully think is hilarious after all this time. You scroll through her photos, catching yourself smiling at your phone. Embarrassing. You quickly type out and send her a DM before you can talk yourself out of it.

Hey

Send.

Ellie replies faster than you anticipated.

I’ve been waiting for u to follow me back for like 3 years sooooo… when’s that gonna happen

You smile at her message.

Probably never

I rented a house and it’s pretty big and lonely

You coming? I’ll call you an uber

She replies before you can even swipe away from your messages.

Of course baby

The nickname made your heart skip a beat.

—

The second the front door clicked shut behind her, your lips were on Ellie’s. The kiss was hard and hungry, like all of that tension on court was saved for this one moment.

To your surprise, and hers, Ellie puts a hand on your chest, gently pushing you back, stopping the kiss. Not pushing you away, just… pausing.

“I haven’t even put my bag down.” She laughs, her tone is warm and soft and the complete opposite of the girl who wanted to crush your spirit a few hours prior.

You let out a shy laugh, embarrassed by her subtle rejection. “Sorry.” You whisper. Ellie could have melted on the spot at your sweet shyness. The same girl who was yelling at her across the net was suddenly shy and blushing in her hands.

Ellie drops her bag to the floor and kicks off her shoes. Her hands come up to your neck gently. She kisses your forehead, your cheek, your other cheek, your nose and then a soft press to your lips again, just a peck. “We don’t have to rush.” She whispers.

Your hands slide down her arms, before intertwining your fingers with hers. The touch shocks her, you’ve experienced so much intensity together, but never something as innocent as hand holding.

“Are you here to torture me?” You joke, squeezing her hands.

Ellie laughs, breathless and exasperated. “No. God, no.” She says, lifting your knuckles to her lips to kiss them. She knows her slow pace probably is torture for someone who likes things fast, but she’s waited too long to be alone with you again to rush through it.

You feel yourself start to melt at her gentle kisses on your knuckles. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me after today.” You whisper.

Ellie freezes. Her hands squeeze yours even tighter. You’re actually being vulnerable in front of her, worried about the aftermath of how intense that match was. Her kisses on your hands are even more tender now. “I could never hate you… Maybe I did for like… five seconds.” She laughs. “But honestly, I just missed you. I think I was so mad today because I missed you.”

You want to tell her that you missed her too, but the words won’t come out. “You played beautifully.” You say.

Ellie blushes, because your compliments are the highest form of praise. “I did it for you.” She whispers, leaning back in for another slow kiss. “For this.” She mumbles against your lips.

“Ellie.” You say, sternly, stopping the kiss.

“Hm?” She hums, her forehead pressed against yours.

You pause before speaking. “If you aren’t naked in my bed in the next thirty seconds I’m gonna get really pissed off.” You joke.

Ellie steps back, laughing, really laughing. “Oh yeah?” She teases, already pulling her hoodie over her head. “The girl who made me wait over a year to touch her again is suddenly pressed about thirty seconds?” She laughs, tossing her hoodie, reaching for yours next.

“Please.” You beg, letting her pull your sweatshirt over your head.

Ellie’s expression softens, she takes your hand in hers again. “Lead the way.”

She’s laid out on your bed, resting against the pillows, one knee bent, waiting. You crawl over her, kissing your way up her legs.

Ellie’s heart pounded as she watched you crawl up the bed, leaving soft kisses on her skin. Your patient worship felt like whiplash compared to how cold you’ve been towards her since Paris.

When your kisses trail up to her hips, you slowly pull down her shorts. She lifts her hips to help you. You push up her tank top up to kiss her toned stomach.

“What do you like?” You ask between kisses.

Ellie’s cheeks flushed, embarrassed to answer a question like that. No one has ever even asked her that before. “Uhh— slow. I like… being kissed and… hands.” She chokes out.

You look up at her red face with a smirk. “I can do that.” You say confidently. You kneel between her legs, grabbing at the hem of her tank top, lifting it over her head. She felt the need to cover up, but stopped herself.

You bring your lips back down to her chest, trailing soft kisses. Your lips ghost over one of her nipples, before taking it into your mouth. A small gasp escapes her. The sensation is warm and wet and feels way too good. Your tongue swirled slowly, applying just the right amount of pressure. You can feel her body start to shift under your touch. You lift a hand to trace soft, teasing circles on her other nipple, feeling it harden under your touch.

Ellie lets out an involuntary whimper, the feeling was somehow blissful and complete torture at the same time.

Her chest rose and fell faster now, her face still red, not from embarrassment but from arousal. Your teasing touch turns into a pinch, taking her sensitive nipple between your thumb and pointer finger, gently squeezing. Ellie inhales sharply at the touch, biting down on her lip to keep herself quiet.

You lift your mouth to speak. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear you.” You whisper. Your tone is calm and seductive. You weren’t just allowing it, you were encouraging it, and that drove her crazy in the best way.

You switch sides, bringing your lips onto her other nipple. She didn’t stifle her moan this time, she let it out, loud and clear, the sound was heaven to your ears.

“That’s it.” You praise. Your lips move lower, latching onto the skin of her breast, leaving a dark hickey, marking her. Ellie looks down at you, eyes half lidded and needy. She touches the wet mark with her fingertip, like she’s never seen anything like it before.

“Is that okay?” You whisper.

“So okay.” She responds, her voice a little dazed from all her pleasure.

Ellie reaches up and grabs you by the hair, pulling gently, but not enough to hurt. She brings your lips back up to hers in a possessive kiss.

This kiss is nothing like how she kissed you at the door. Her lips are eager as they move against yours, her tongue slips into your mouth, teeth biting at your lower lip, completely claiming you.

Your hand slides lower, lower, lower, under the waistband of her boxers. The second your fingers brush over the heat between her legs, she gasps, twitching under your touch.

“Shit, Ellie.” You mumble into the kiss. You don’t even have to say it. She’s soaked for you and you both know it. Your tone isn’t judgemental or teasing, you’re just in awe of how much your touch affected her, like her body has been begging for this.

“Don’t tease me.” She mumbles against your lips, embarrassed.

You smile before kissing her again. Your fingers move slowly through her folds, just feeling. “I’m not, I love it. I love this.” You say.

Ellie lets out a whimper and she doesn’t even know if it was from your words or your touch. Another choked sound comes out as your fingers graze over her clit. Ellie’s breath speeds up, she grabs onto your waist to ground herself.

Your lips move down to her neck as your fingers find her sweet spot, rubbing small, gentle circles.

With that one simple touch, all of her stress faded away. Paris, the time you rejected her kiss, the way she yelled at you in the locker room, every time she’s embarrassed herself on TV just trying to be a better player, the unspoken tension between you, the intensity of the match earlier that day, all gone.

“Oh God.” She moans, her head back on the pillows, eyes closed, body finally relaxed.

Her hips arch up into your touch, chasing more pressure. You know you’ve teased her long enough, your fingers press down a little bit harder, faster too.

“*Fuuuuckkk.” She whines, her hands grip your waist tighter.

“You like that?” You ask, still pressing soft kisses into her neck.

Ellie nods fast, breathlessly, having to force her words out. “Yes— please—“

You smirk at the sight of her falling apart in your hands. “Please what?” You tease.

“More.” She whines, her hips pressing up into your hand again.

“So needy.” You mumble into her skin, sliding your hand lower into her boxers. Without warning, you slowly push two fingers into her. Ellie groans with pleasure. “How is that?” You ask.

There was no resistance as your fingers started to slide in and out slowly.

“Fuck—“ Ellie cries out.

You pepper soft, feather-light kisses along her jaw, up to her cheek, her temples, over her ear. It’s a gentle contrast to how deep your fingers are curling inside her.

Your thumb presses down on her clit as your fingers continue to work. Ellie lets out a sob, her fingers flex on your waist. She’s feeling so much, you can’t even read her face anymore.

“Tell me how it feels.” You whisper in her ear, your hot breath adding another sensation.

Ellie’s eyes were shut tightly. “I— I can’t— good— it’s so good—“ She manages, her voice trembling.

You silence her whimpers by capturing her lips in a kiss again. She kisses you back messily, unable to keep up. Her body starts to tremble, you know she’s getting close.

You move your hand deeper, faster, knowing it’ll push her over the edge.

The tension in her body finally snaps.

Ellie cries out, a loud, shameless moan. Overwhelming pleasure crashes through her body. She squeezes her eyes shut tight as she trembles, her back lifting off the mattress.

You slow your hand down, kissing her just under her ear, letting her ride it out. A layer of sweat covers her body, her breath comes out in small pants, she collapses back down into the mattress.

Your hand slides out of her boxers, you place a shaky kiss on her cheek. “You okay?” You ask, softly.

Ellie’s eyes flutter open softly, she smiles sweetly. “Soooo good.”

You smile back and peck her lips with a quick kiss. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” You say. Ellie immediately feels cold and exposed at the loss of your warmth.

You return with clean hands and a warm washcloth. You stand at the edge of the bed, gently pulling down her boxers. Your lips part at the sight of her fully undressed for you.

“You’re staring.” She says, blushing.

Your eyes rake over her again. “You’re so pretty. Can’t believe I left these on the whole time.” You laugh, taking her underwear and throwing them across the room like it was personal.

You put a hand on her knee, opening her legs. You wipe between her thighs with the warm cloth, wanting to keep her clean and well taken care of. Ellie feels blissfully relaxed, surrounded by white sheets and fluffy pillows, lucky enough to be pampered by you.

“You’re still dressed.” She pouts, bottom lip jutting out. “Your turn now?” She offers.

You laugh. “I’m okay, really.” You say, shaking your head.

“Not fair.” She complains. “Your turn.”

Your smile gets even bigger as you turn around and rummage through your suitcase, tossing some clean clothes at her. “Can I be honest?” You ask.

Ellie nods. The energy in the room shifts as soon as you say it. She prepares herself for the worst.

You climb in bed beside her. “I’m really fucking tired and sore after trying to destroy your confidence on that court earlier.” You joke. “So… how about… in the morning?” You ask.

Ellie’s eyes light up, despite your dark joke. “I can stay?” She asks excitedly, pulling on the clothes you gave her to borrow.

You climb in bed and pull her in close, pressing your chest against her back, wrapping an arm around her. “Yeah. But don’t get used to it.” You say, kissing her shoulder through the t-shirt.

Ellie scoffs playfully. “You’re the worst… God, let me do something for you for once. Let me take you out, make you feel good, anything.”

“Where would you take me?” You ask, playfully.

Ellie doesn’t even hesitate. “Italy. Let’s go to Italy.”

“Italy?” You question.

She turns to face you in the bed. “Italy. I’ll rent us a villa in the countryside. We won’t talk about tennis. No phones either.” She smiles at the thought.

You raise your eyebrows. “Oh really?” You ask, digging for more information on this daydream.

“Our villa will have a big kitchen and a pool. You’ll wear the smallest bikinis you own for me. I’ll cook for you everyday. You’ll be my little Italian princess.” She says.

Your cheeks start to hurt from smiling. “You have this whole thing planned out, huh?”

Ellie continues. “We’ll take day trips into town, eat at little restaurants with those cute tables on the sidewalks. I’ll feed you pasta and kiss you in public every five minutes. We can go shopping, I’ll get you a new designer bag, maybe some shoes.” She has a ridiculous smile on her face to match yours.

“Will we drink wine?” You ask.

“So much of it. I’ll carry you to bed at night if you drink too much. And we’ll sleep in instead of getting up for 5AM drills. So what do you say?”

You exhale slowly, thinking. “It’s tempting.”

“Let’s go next week, after you win this tournament, because I know you will. We both deserve a break.” She pleads.

“Ellie— that’s crazy—“

“Crazy?” She repeats. “You know when I want something, I’ll do anything to get it.” She smiles, brushing your hair behind your ear gently.

You hold your breath for a moment, hesitating. “If I win this tournament we can go to Italy.”

Ellie’s mouth falls open. “If?!” She asks, shocked. “When.” She says, confident in your skills. “When you win next week, I’m booking us the first flight out to celebrate.”

In the second semester of your junior year, you developed the fattest crush on this girl in your grade. Her name was Abby, and she was a player on your school's varsity soccer team, and a damn good one at that. She was intelligent too, planning to follow in her father's footsteps of going to med-school and becoming a doctor. There was something about her that you couldn't quite resist. With her kind eyes, broad shoulders, and a smile so bright it creased her freckle-adorned cheeks, Abigail Anderson had charmed you, a part of your heart already preparing itself to be carved out and set aside in devotion to her.

So, when Abby asked you out to prom in the spring, you didn't hesitate to say yes, jumping up and squealing in excitement as you threw your arms around her neck.

Prom was perfect, the baby pink color of your long, sequined dress matching Abby's tie. The two of you were practically inseparable for the entire night, exhibiting the behavior of what some would consider "puppy love."

Abby wasn't your only highlight of the night, though. The moment they called your name out for prom princess, your heart filled so full you swore that it would spill out any second. As they placed the glittering sash over your shoulder, you truly felt like a girl at the end of a coming of age movie, like you had finally found where you belonged in the world, and it was here, under flashing lights in the venue of your high school prom, the validating cheers of your peers blaring through the room.

With a gleaming tiara on your head and Abby on your arm, you knew this night would be one that you would remember forever.

That summer, in the blaring heat of a June sun, Abby asked you to be her girlfriend, and just as you had in response to her promposal only a few weeks earlier, you enthusiastically accepted, throwing yourself into her arms.

Between tanning beside glittering swimming pools with your best-friends, getting virgin piña coladas with your mom, and sneaking out with your new girlfriend, you thought you had the best senior summer a girl could ever ask for—and that’s without mentioning the cherry on top: your father gifting you your dream car, a pink Mercedes-Benz. 

So, when it was time to begin your senior year at Jackson High School, you had not even a single doubt in your foolish belief that your senior year would live up to the expectations of your Hollywood-inspired fantasies you had possessed through all of your youth.

With your sexy buff girlfriend by your side and a hot new ride, your year was bound to go perfectly, right?

As you soon discovered, all expectations you had could be totaled up to nothing but the wet dream of a naïve spoiled suburban princess.

Just a few weeks into the first semester, you were driving yourself to school in your 21st century royal carriage, iced coffee in hand and bedazzled sunglasses balanced on your nose, when the shitty Subaru in front of you slammed on their brakes abruptly, causing you to run into them from behind.

"What the fuck?!" the car in front of you stepped out, fury ridden in every crease of their face.

After profusely apologizing to the angry stranger and offering to pay for repairs, you ended up sobbing while attempting to explain what you had gotten yourself into on the phone with your father, who only sighed in disappointment on the other end, “Daddy, it wasn’t my fault, I swear! They were the one who slammed on their brakes in front of me!”

Though you didn’t know yet, this accident only marked the beginning of the most humiliating week of your life.

Graciously, your parents let you stay home from school that day as you grieved your pink Mercedes. Their mercy didn't last for long, though, as they forced you to go back the next day, not allowing you to miss anymore school.

To your dismay, the angle at which your car was impacted left it in no condition to be driven. Since your parents both had work and Abby claimed she had an early morning gym sesh planned, you found yourself riding the infamous Big Cheese to school that morning. You felt so humiliated being a senior and having to ride the bus to school. The pickled odor ruminating through the air combined with the sticky seats left you less than comfortable, to say the least. Some underclassmen boys were play fighting behind you, and one ended up elbowing you in the face. You glared at them offensively, but neither of them offered so much as an apology, just continuing to laugh obnoxiously while sloppily throwing their hands at each other.

You started that day already pissed off, and what made it worse was that Abby had been acting distant. In fact, she had been acting distant ever since the first week of the semester. She had only been replying to all your texts with one-word responses, and she had been avoiding you at school, too. When you texted her regarding her distant behavior, she just replied, "dw abt it, baby."

Safe to say, you were angry, but you didn't know if there was anything you could do about it. After all, you didn't have any reason to suspect her of doing anything wrong.

You were about to fall asleep in study hall when all of a sudden you got a notification from your best friend Dina.

wifey dina <3 - 10:05 AM

"holy shit, did you see cat's story?"

you - 10:05 am

"who the fuck is cat?"

wifey dina <3 - 10:05 AM

"she's like some stoner chick. has tattoos n shit."

wifey dina <3 sent an attachment

Upon clicking on the photo Dina sent you, you audibly gasped. It was a screenshot of an Instagram story, a grainy photo of some girl with black micro bangs (who you presumed was Cat) with her hand wrapped around someone's hickey-littered neck from behind while leaning down and biting their bicep.

It wasn't just anyone's bicep, though. You would recognize those freckled broad shoulders from anywhere, and the dirty blonde baby hairs peaking out from behind the person's ears only confirmed your suspicions.

you - 10:06 AM

"i fucking know that's not abby."

wifey dina <3 - 10:06 AM

"babe, i'm afraid it is.”

“and leah told me that she overheard someone saying that they saw them making out behind the bleachers yesterday after school too.”

You didn't know what to do. You didn’t want to cry in the middle of class, but your tightening throat and the tears blurring your vision didn’t really give you much of a choice. Sure, you had only been dating Abby for a couple of months, but part of you felt like you truly loved her.

Your mind began racing: Is this why Abby has been so avoidant? Is it my fault? Am I not pretty enough? Did I not give her enough attention?

wifey dina <3 - 10:07 AM

“i’m so sorry, doll.”

“you deserve so much better.”

Damn right you did, and after the initial wave of sadness and heartbreak washed over, you were immediately filled with rage.

As the bell rang for lunch, you marched toward the cafeteria with more purpose than a Navy SEAL.

If Abby had no issue with carelessly making this such a public ordeal that you had to find out through a blurry screenshot, then you didn’t have any problem making your confrontation a scene.

Usually, Abby would sit with all her soccer friends, while you would sit with the cheerleading girls.

Today, though, you stomped directly towards Abby’s table, calling out her name angrily as you approached.

When at first she didn’t hear you, you yanked on her shoulder forcefully, shouting her name again to capture her full attention.

“Oh my god—what the fuck, babe?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that you think it’s okay to just run around and fuck other girls when you have a girlfriend.”

“You’re seriously accusing me of cheating on you?”

At this point, her entire table was either staring at the two of you or whispering and snickering amongst themselves, but you couldn’t have cared less in the heat of the moment.

“Oh, I’m not accusing you. I know what you did, so don’t even try to lie to me.” You pulled out your phone, shoving the screenshot of Cat’s story in Abby’s face, “Mind telling me what the fuck you’re doing here?”

Abby just scoffed in disbelief, staring at your phone scathingly, as if you would have never caught on if it wasn’t for the stupid, tattletale device in your hand.

She returned her gaze to you, “Babe, I can explain—“

You interrupted her before she could even start, “Abby, please. Don’t try to lie to me. I mean, for fuck’s sake, people are running around saying they saw the two of you making out! There’s no explaining this.”

To you, it didn’t matter what she said at this point. Even if she apologized, the hurt had already been caused.

Abby sighed, defeated, “I think we should just break up.”

“What—?”

“Yeah, if you really feel that way, then I don’t think—“

“No.”

“No?”

“No! You cheated on me. You don’t get to dump me now. I’m the one dumping you.”

Abby raised her eyebrows and smirked as if she just couldn’t take you seriously, “Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure I’m the one who said that we should break up first.”

Abby’s snarky facial expression combined with the obnoxious snickering of all of her friends made your blood boil. You had never been more pissed off in your life.

"You know what? I fucking can't with you. Don’t try to talk to me ever again. I’ll see you in hell.”

You hoped your dramatic exit would be something iconic or even badass that would stick in Abby’s mind and make her immediately regret ever breaking your heart.

However, as fate would have it, something less ideal occurred. As you walked backward, you bumped into someone, causing you to yelp while falling onto your ass as their black coffee got spilled all over your shirt.

Abby and all her friends began laughing hysterically. At this point, your face must have been flushed completely crimson. Now, whether it was more from anger or embarrassment, you didn’t really know.

Getting back up on your feet, you were fully prepared to berate the moron that let you get drenched and humiliated at the hands of their carelessness, but as you saw the person responsible for your misery, your blood boiled even hotter (if that was still possible), your eyes narrowing in on her scrawny figure.

Ellie fucking Williams.

Well, technically the one who spilled the coffee on you was her idiot best friend, Jesse, not Ellie, but you knew it somehow had to be Ellie’s fault anyways. Why? Because it just fucking had to be, nothing else would make sense. Ellie hated you, and you hated her. It’s just how it was.

If anyone were to ask you when the feud began, you wouldn’t have been able to answer exactly when. Maybe it started in middle school when you spread a rumor that she was a druggie and her dad was a satanic cult leader—or maybe sophomore year when she muttered something about you being a “spoiled, dim-witted, brat” under her breath when you passed her in the hallway, and when you forcefully turned around to quip something back, you tripped onto your face in front of half your school, effectively destroying the heel on your favorite pair of pink pumps and spraining your ankle in the process, all while the little demon laughed at you from behind.

For a while after that incident, nothing else had happened between the two of you. No drama, no rumors, no petty remarks, nothing. It was peaceful, you thought maybe the tension had finally dulled between you both. Well, that was until last November when she sent photos of you drinking at a Halloween party to the principal, almost causing you to lose your position as captain of your school’s varsity cheer team. What business did that stoner have tattling on anyone over substance use, anyway? Well, you didn’t have any way of knowing for sure Ellie was the one who snitched on you; the report was anonymous, of course. But it seemed obvious to you that she was the only one bitter enough to do something so petty with the sole motivation of hurting you and your reputation.

It didn’t even have to be about the trivial dramatics; just the way Ellie presented and carried herself was a mortal sin against everything that you stood for. You were the spoiled princess of poised perfection and cherry flavored lip gloss dressed in rhinestoned true religion jeans and lacey pink baby doll tops, locked in your upper middle-class tower—while she was the fire-breathing, smoke-exhaling, lighter-slinging dragon with dingy black scales and worn wings, adorning silver piercings and black eyeshadow, lurking from outside palace walls as the epitome of a suburban pariah.

Everything about her made your blood boil. It was as if the resentment between you was fated, written in the stars, no matter how horribly cliché it was.

So, naturally, you had to suspect her of scheming on your downfall through even the most insignificant things.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to!“ Jesse scrambled to apologize, but it was too late, rage had already consumed you.

“Do you not fucking pay attention to what you’re doing?”

Ellie decided now was the best time to butt into the conversation, attempting to rescue her friend from the blunt end of your wrath, “Hey, c’mon, dude. Y’know he didn’t mean to.”

You glared at Ellie as if she was the most malevolent creature in the whole world, “Do you really wanna be talking right now, Ellie? I know this is all your doing.”

She laughed at you like you sounded crazy, “What? How is this my doing?”

“Because,” through your anger, you still tried to make sense of all the shit you were spewing, “only you are bitter and spiteful enough to do something so petty just to embarrass me!”

Ellie furrowed her brows at you in disbelief, "How the hell is it my fault that you bumped into Jesse? You’re the one embarrassing yourself, you don't need my help to do so.”

You scoffed, irritated by her audacity, “Listen, if this was any other day, I just might let this go, but you chose the worst possible time to fuck with me."

"Again, I didn't do anything to fuck with you. Get over yourself, princess."

Princess. You fucking hated when she called you that, condescension laced so firmly in her voice that it never failed to leave you feeling thoroughly disrespected and so impossibly small.

You rolled your eyes at her, "Just leave me alone, Ellie."

As you walked away, you internally hoped she didn’t hear the little crack in your voice from your tight throat, warm tears threatening to pour out your eyes.

You slipped into the first bathroom you spotted outside the cafeteria, finding refuge in a quiet stall as you hurled your legs into fetal position. There, you finally let yourself cry.

You weren’t crying over your altercation with Ellie, of course. You weren’t even crying over your break up, really. It was just everything. You were so overwhelmed. For the past few days, it felt as if you weren’t ever able to catch a break, not even for a second. It all just kept on coming, and a girl could only be so strong.

So, when the bell rung, you decided that, after the week you’ve had, you didn’t have it in you anymore to sit in a miserable classroom with a bunch of sweaty kids for an hour while trying and failing to understand whatever shit your math teacher had on the board that day.

Instead of going to class, you slipped out of a side door of the school, concluding all you needed was some fresh air.

"You still pouting, princess?"

You whipped your head around to meet the condescending voice calling at you, only to see Ellie Williams, again.

You huffed, “What do you want, Ellie?”

She looked so smug, sitting there with one leg tucked against her chest and the other lazily stretched out against the ground. She pulled out the blunt gently pressed between her lips, exhaling soft gray smoke into the air.

“Why don’t you come and join me?”

“And do what? Sit there and smoke weed for an hour then walk back into class and pretend people can’t smell the shit on me?”

“Sure, why not? Maybe it would help you chill out for once.”

You crossed your arms in defiance, shocked at her audacity to ask you to smoke with her after the shit she pulled earlier today. 

You could brush her off and say you had better things to do, but you did have a really shitty day. You could use something to relax after everything you’ve been through. Besides, maybe it would help to have someone to rant to.

You quickly glanced around, checking for any cameras or people around that could rat you out, but you didn’t see anything. After all, Ellie did this all the time, and she never got caught.

You huffed defiantly, crossing your arms as you slipped into the space on the concrete staircase beside Ellie.

She handed you the blunt, but you just stared at it dumbly, not fully understanding what she was expecting of you.

Ellie smirked, “You’ve never smoked before, have you?”

You glared at her, “What do you think, Ellie?”

Ellie grinned before taking the blunt back, “All you have to do is press it against your lips and inhale, just like this.”

You stared at her mouth as she demonstrated, thin paper brushing against the soft pads of her rosy pink lips. As she exhaled, the wind carried the smoke through the air, allowing you to breathe in its herbal scent.

Once complete, Ellie turned towards you. She leaned in, placing the blunt in your hand as her hand clasped over yours, guiding the blunt towards your lips.

Your cheeks burned red from the proximity as you took a hit from the joint, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time.

As she pulled the blunt away from your lips, you were immediately thrown into a fit of coughs, all while Ellie laughed at you, clearly finding amusement in your failure.

Once recollecting yourself, you glared at Ellie once more, smacking the tattoo on her forearm, “Hey! Quit laughing at me!”

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” Ellie took a deep breath, trying to restrain herself from cracking up again and pissing you off further, “Y’know, don’t feel bad. A lot of people struggle when they first start.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I mean, I didn’t really. But I’m sure lots of other people do!”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, whatever.”

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, enjoying each other’s silence and the chill breeze of the September air.

Watching Ellie take a hit from the joint, you grew a bit hungry for another.

“Ellie?”

“Mhm?”

“Can I have another hit?” you asked sweetly, your doe eyes pleading to her.

Ellie passed you the blunt back, but not without smirking while doing so. Why did she have to look so god damn smug all the time?

This time you took it much more smoothly, no coughing involved. Ellie even nodded her approval.

In your mellowed state of mind, you became the first to break the silence, “Why did you invite me to smoke with you anyways?”

Ellie shrugged, “I told you, I thought it would help you be not so stuck-up for once.”

You shook your head, “Yeah, but we’ve never really gotten along.” Residing in the calm solitude the two of you shared now, you couldn’t help but laugh at the stupidity of your guys’ past altercations, “I mean, our interaction in the cafeteria today wasn’t exactly friendly.”

“Eh, I saw you and Abby fighting right before. ‘Figured that had to be the reason you were acting so particularly bitchy today.”

You groaned at the mention of your ex-girlfriend’s name, “Ugh, Abby.”

“What happened between the two of you anyways?”

You sighed, annoyance permeating through the tone of your voice, “She cheated on me.”

“Oh my god, that sucks.”

“Yeah, it does, and I had to find out through a fucking Instagram story too. I felt so humiliated.”

“I’m sorry, that’s horrible,” Ellie comforted you as she reached over to her water bottle, twisting off it’s plastic cap. “If you don’t mind me asking, who did she cheat on you with? It’s hard for me to imagine she could’ve done much better than you.”

You knew that she didn’t mean much by the last comment. She said it so casually, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered anyways.

“It’s some girl named Cat,” you answered.

When you looked back at Ellie, she was choking on the sip of water she had just taken.

You placed some gentle blows on her back, trying to help her out.

“Hey, are you okay? Is something wrong?” you asked, concern laced in your voice.

She managed her words through coughs, “Yeah—yeah, I’m fine.”

She coughed a bit more before recollecting herself, finally responding to what you said, “Yeah, Cat isn’t shit. Abby fucked up, for sure.”

The two of you sat there for a while longer, exchanging stories with each other, talking about people from your school, and laughing at each other's stupid jokes.

You didn’t like to admit it, but part of you had started to develop a real understanding of her. She could be really nice when the two of you weren’t dead set on hating the other. At one point, you mentioned that you were hungry, and she gave you a full bag of sour gummy worms. It might’ve just been candy, but that moment had to have been the nicest she’s ever been to you in all your time of knowing her.

Who would’ve known that the two of you could actually really enjoy each other's company? (Even if you had to be a little bit high to do so.)

When the bell that finally cut school out rang, you were surprised. You didn’t think you had been out there with her for that long, but maybe time just seemed to pass by faster when you were hanging out with her.

You groaned as students piled out of the building.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asked as she threw all her things back into her bag.

“My car’s broken and I don’t want to ride the bus…”

“I could drive you home if you want,” Ellie offered.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. Your house can’t be that far away.”

The ride home was quiet, but never awkward. Somehow it didn’t feel weird to be in Ellie’s space, listening to her playlist softly playing from her car’s speakers. It was almost comforting, but the thought of accepting that made you want to throw up.

So, instead, you just stared out the window, trying to force your mind to not think about the humiliation you had endured this week or, arguably worse, the prospect that the girl you had despised since middle wasn’t actually the devil reincarnate you imagined her to be.

After you got home and had finished taking your shower, you laid down in your bed, sinking into the mattress. For the first time that day, you felt like you could finally decompress. But before the silence could give you enough space to reflect on everything, you received a face time call from your best friends Dina and Leah.

“Hey, babe!” Dina exclaimed as you picked up, “Leah wants to know if you can come to this party.”

“Yeah, Jordan’s parents are out of town on some work trip or whatever, so he’s gonna invite a bunch of people over tomorrow night. You should come!”

“Oh, I don’t know…” you hesitated, playing with the hem of your satin pink pajamas. With your break up being so fresh, you didn’t know if going out would be the best idea. Sure, you weren’t going to be alone since you had Dina and Leah, and Jordan was Leah’s long term boyfriend, so it wouldn’t be like you were somewhere unfamiliar. But, still, you couldn’t help but feel like you wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy it.

“C’monnn, it’ll be so fun!” Dina pleaded.

Leah pouted, “You usually love going to parties, what’s wrong?”

“Well, it’s just that since I broke up with Abby—“

“Hold on,” Dina interrupted, “you actually broke up with Abby?”

“Yeah…”

“As you should,” Leah said, “You deserve so much better.”

You chuckled, but there was no amusement in your voice, “I know.”

“We’re always here for you if you need to talk,” Dina reminded you.

“Thank you guys,” you said, smiling softly, truly grateful your friends’ support.

“Don’t even worry about it, girl,” Leah chimed in again, “Abby downgraded anyways. Cat can’t dress for shit and those micro bangs look like she cut them in the dark with craft scissors. Not to mention that she’s Ellie’s ex-girlfriend.”

Your heart dropped, “Cat is Ellie’s ex-girlfriend?” 

“Yeah—you didn’t know? They had, like, a really messy break up last year. Something about Ellie being too obsessive and Cat cheating on her with like some older guy at her job so Ellie stole Cat’s car for revenge on some Grand Theft Auto shit.”

Leah’s eyebrows twisted as she recalled the rest of the story.

“Then she recited this really cringy poem to her English class she apparently wrote about Cat. Somehow the president of Mozambique was involved too, but I don’t remember.” 

“Oh my God—did all that really happen?”

“Yeah!” Leah claimed, “Well that’s just what I heard. I’m sure some of it has to be embellishment of the truth or whatever—But, anyways, yeah. Everybody knows that they used to date.”

You were sure Leah was just regurgitating a bunch of bullshit—you loved her, but Leah was involved in so much shit talking that you began to suspect that her brain had started melting.

Despite that, through Leah’s rambling, you did recall something about Ellie being in love and falling out with another girl in your guys’ grade.

Your heart sunk a little at the thought of Cat’s relationship with Ellie, a feeling settling inside you somewhere between disgust and devastation. You just brushed it off, though, not understanding what it meant and not being able to unpack it even if you did.

“Don’t worry about Abby and Cat,” Dina comforted, “You should still come to the party, it’ll help you get your mind off her.”

“I’m still not sure…”

“C’mon,” Leah pleaded, “We’ll have so much fun, you’ll completely forget all about her!”

You sighed, “Fine.”

“Yes!” Dina grinned.

“Great!” Leah exclaimed, “I’ll probably go to his house first to help set up, then I can go pick you guys up.”

“Alright,” you said, “Dina, is it okay if I go to your house after school tomorrow to get ready?”

“Of course, babe,” Dina agreed.

“Thank you!” Suddenly, you yawned, a wave of exhaustion crashing over you, “I’m getting pretty tired. I’m gonna go to sleep, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Almost immediately after ending the call, sleep consumed you. Which, in hindsight, you were grateful for, knowing that if you had stayed up any longer, your overthinking would latch onto you and keep you up for the rest of the night.

After getting home from school the next day, you were having second thoughts about the party. You were utterly exhausted, part of you just wanting to lay in your bed and eat ice cream while wallowing in the hollow aftermath of your break up.

Fortunately for you, your best friend Dina was determined to help you escape the claws of your own self-pity. Confident that the perfect antidote for your heartbreak was a night of going out, she was there at your house at 5pm sharp to help you grab your outfit and makeup and take you back to her house to get ready and pregame.

Though you seriously doubted how effective partying would be for curing your sadness, you trusted your best friend. After all, she knew you better than anyone, and you did love getting dolled up and tipsy at some rich stranger’s house after a long week.

After a diligent half hour of makeup and careful outfit deliberation, you stood in front of Dina’s floor length mirror and inspected the figure reflected back at you. You truly felt beautiful, adorning a skintight cheetah print tank top, cleavage on display, with a black mini skirt draping over your hips. The fishnets and black pumps you put on tied your look together. Bright strands of hair tinsel glittered when caught in the lights while the charcoal tightlining of your waterlines allowed the color of your eyes to pop out more than ever before.

“Holy shit, you look hot,” Dina remarked, her voice pulling you out of your own head. You only laughed shyly in response. 

“Abby must be a fucking idiot. She has no idea what she’s missing out on right now.”

Upon glancing over your face, she immediately picked up on the sadness engrained into your features.

“Hey, don’t be sad, okay?” Dina comforted you as she placed her hand on your shoulder, “You deserve way better than Abby anyways. If she’s a cheater, it was never gonna work out anyways. You practically dodged a bullet. You’re hot, funny, hardworking, and actually really good at math.”

Dina softened her voice while kneeling down in front of you, “You’ll find another girl to love, and she’ll never take for granted how lucky she is to have you.”

“Do you really mean that?” you asked, throat tight as tears pooled at the bottom of your eyes, threatening to spill over.

“Of course I do. Besides, we’re gonna have so much fun tonight, you’ll forget Abby even exists,” she brushed your cheek, collecting a rogue tear that had dripped down from your eye on her thumb, “Now cheer up before you mess up your makeup.” She tousled your hair before pulling out her phone, “Leah should be in here like five minutes to pick us up, you ready?”

You nodded, looking back at your reflection one last time, reapplying your favorite cherry-flavored lip-gloss for good luck. You really hoped Dina was right. You didn’t want to think about Abby anymore, and you sure as hell did not want to think about whatever couple shit she could be doing with that Cat girl.

Tonight, you just wanted to have a good time. You wanted to enjoy being young, single, and hot—maybe get a little bit tipsy, and (most importantly) get Abby off of your mind. 

Despite your wishes, it seemed fate had other plans for you.

As soon as you got to the party, Dina and Leah spotted someone they had met at a concert they attended a few weeks ago. Promising them that you would be okay by yourself, you decided to slip away from them to grab a drink while they caught up with their friend. 

Once acquiring your drink, you slipped into the crowd and observed the mass of partiers. To your devastation, in the center of the room stood no other than your ex-girlfriend: Abigail Anderson, shamelessly making out with the same girl she had cheated on you with underneath the party’s violet luminescence with no regard for the presence of other people around. Her tongue was stuck so far down Cat’s throat it was as if she was trying to reach the depths of her soul through her mouth.

You stared at the two of them, disgust rising and settling deep inside your gut.

“They’re so disgusting,” you muttered, not even realizing that you were saying your thoughts out loud.

“Yeah. They make me want to throw up,” a voice next to you sneered. 

You flinched, not expecting another voice to boom so close and unexpectedly near your ear, “What the fuck?!” 

The voice came from no other than Ellie Williams, who paid no mind to your jumpiness as she continued talking shit, “Y’know, never would I ever imagine the two of them together."

You scoffed, piling onto Ellie’s thoughts in agreement, “Yeah, because they don’t look good together. Besides, I don’t understand why they feel the need to practically eat each other alive in front of everybody.” 

“Exactly,” Ellie chuckled, “It’s just gross.”

Silence settled between the two of you for just a second longer than what felt comfortable.

You shifted your feet as you worked up the courage to ask her the question that had been lingering in your mind since last night.

“Ellie?”

She returned her head and her attention back to you, “Yeah?”

“Yesterday, when I told you about what happened between me and Abby,” you paused for a moment, collecting yourself, “Why didn’t you tell me that Cat was your ex-girlfriend?”

You watched the muscles of Ellie’s throat flex and relax slowly as she swallowed, jaw tensing, “We were talking about you, what happened between me and Cat didn’t matter.”

“Oh, okay,” you replied, suddenly shy.

After a moment, Ellie spoke up again, “But, y’know, about that… I can’t help but think…”

“Think what?”

She turned her body fully towards you, engaging eye contact, “Do you really think that they’re just making out in front of everybody because they just find each other so irresistible?”

You furrowed your brows, “What the hell are you trying to imply?” 

Ellie smirked, mischief suddenly creeping across her expression, “I’m saying that they’re obviously trying to make us jealous. Don’t you see it?”

Swishing the drink in your hand absentmindedly, you doubted her theory, “I don’t know, Ellie. What if they just like each other? I doubt they thought about it that deeply.”

Ellie rolled her eyes in response, “You don’t have to believe me, but I’m right.” 

Silence lingered between the two of you as Ellie turned her gaze away from you. As her gentle features got caught in the violet glow reflecting off the silver mirror ball, you couldn’t help but notice that she was actually quite beautiful.

Your eyes locked back onto the couple, who was now grinding on each other to the rhythm of whatever shitty bass-boosted house song was blasting from the speakers.

“They make me fucking sick,” you muttered.

Ellie smirked as your gaze met with hers again, “Well, I’m telling you, they’re just trying to get under our skin, and there’s only one way we can get them back.”

“Now what the actual fuck are you trying to say?”

As she lowered her voice, Ellie leaned in so close that you could feel the warmth in her breath and smell the liquor she had downed ten minutes ago.

“I think you already know what I’m trying to say, princess.”

For a moment, you were stunned, heat rising in your cheeks at the proximity.

Was she seriously trying to imply that you two should kiss in an attempt to get back at Cat and Abby?

As appealing as it sounded to rile Abby up and make her jealous, the idea of kissing Ellie sounded fucking insane to you. She might've comforted you after your break up yesterday, and the two of you might be currently bonding over your exes getting together in a fling that nobody could have ever predicted—but none of that made you forget the years of resentment that had festered between you both until this week.

Besides, she was still a stoned out loser. What would people think of you if they saw you kiss her?

Breaking out of the trance you were in, you shook your head, pushing her off of you, “C’mon, Ellie. That’s fucking crazy and you know it.”

She just shrugged in response, “Maybe, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't do it anyways."

"If you change your mind, I'll still be here," she practically breathed into your ear, “Just saying, it would really piss Abby off.”

It was true, Abby hated Ellie as much as you did. Well, nearly as much as you did. Ellie made you want to fucking rip your hair out of your scalp and strangle her with it. Well, at least she used to. Everything seemed to be confusing lately.

You brushed Ellie off and made your way through the crowd, finding Leah and Jordan by a wall, cuddling up and laughing. The love that radiated off of them mocked you in your post-breakup state, reminding you of Abby and enraging you all over again.

You stomped up to the couple, “Jordan, why the fuck did you invite Abby?”

“Wait, she’s here?” Leah said, beginning to glance over the crowd.

“I’m so confused,” Jordan said, “Isn’t she your girlfriend? I thought you would want her to be here.”

You rolled your eyes, “Look at what she’s doing right now.”

Jordan scanned the crowd and gasped when he saw Abby, “Is she making out with another girl?”

“Yes,” you groaned, “We’re not together anymore because she’s a fucking cheater.”

As you began to turn away, Leah tugged on your forearm, pulling you back.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized, “I should’ve told him not to invite her, I had no idea she would even come.”

“It’s okay, Leah. Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing we can do about it now. I’m just pissed.”

Pulling away from her, you continued walking towards the bar.

You downed a cup of suspicious fruit punch and mentally prayed to God that it wasn’t laced with anything other than cheap liquor.

With the bitter taste of alcohol settling in your throat, you leaned back against the wall, your eyes scrutinizing the room of partiers once more.

Sure enough, Abby and Cat were still there in the center of the room, grinding and kissing on one other.

You thought you were fine. You thought you could handle it. Not everything is meant to last and people grow apart and all that other bullshit about letting go.

But then you saw Abby’s hands slide over Cat’s body.

Abby’s fingertips caressed the sensitive muscle of Cat’s abdomen, making her gasp and look back at your ex-girlfriend, the two closing the gap with a messy kiss.

How fucking dare she.

It broke you to see Abby touch another girl with the same hands, the same intensity, the same purpose that she had touched your body with only a week prior.

That was your final straw.

With liquid courage burning through your veins, you thought back to Ellie’s proposition.

Without giving yourself a chance to have second thoughts, you pushed through the crowd.

Sure enough, she was still there in the party, just as she said she would be, now talking to a few other losers that you (quite honestly) didn’t care enough to learn the names of.

All you had to do was call out her name once, and she turned back towards you, your gaze meeting hers immediately.

If you were going to back down, this was your final chance to do so.

But you didn’t back down.

Instead, you wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her into a warm kiss.

Ellie responded to you immediately, pressing your body into hers through her hold on your hips.

After a few seconds, you were the first to pull away from the kiss, gasping for air. Ellie didn’t seem satisfied with that, though, soon pulling you back in for more, this time much more confident and intense as you both grew more familiar with the other’s body.

Ellie licked across your bottom lip as a request for entrance, to which you accepted, allowing her to deepen the kiss.

Once you both had no other choice but to break away for air, you still held Ellie close, resting your head against her shoulder as you attempted to recollect yourself.

As the adrenaline crash hit you, you began to undergo the full consequences of the shots you took at Dina’s house in combination with whatever shit was in those red solo cups.

Everything sounded like it was underwater. You couldn’t even see the crowds of your peers staring and whispering as everything blurred together in your vision.

Each light was blinding. Each noise was deafening.

Your stomach turned like it was working against its natural movement, trying to force out something you desperately did not want to come out right now.

You leaned against Ellie to prevent yourself from falling over as your limbs shook they would soon stop working entirely.

“Ellie, I don’t feel so good.” you muttered into her ear. “Can you take me home?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just hold on to me.” Ellie agreed, her voice still breathy from the kiss.

She guided you out of the party with her hand on the small of your back. You knew people were talking about you, but you were too dazed from the kiss and your inebriation to care.

Once outside, Ellie unlocked her car and helped you into the passenger seat before walking around and climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Ellieeee?” you drawled out her name.

“Yeah?” she turned towards you, genuine concern in her eyes, “Do you need anything?”

“Can I have your jacket? ‘M so cold.”

Ellie threw her jacket into your lap before turning on the car.

You pulled the leather over your shoulders, immediately finding comfort in the scent of smoke and musky cologne that radiated off her jacket.

Fortunately, Ellie remembered your address from taking you home yesterday, so it didn’t take long for the two of you to take off after settling into the car.

After Ellie started driving, you quickly accustomed to the gentle hum of the car beating against the road, finding comfort in it's rhythm.

Hearing your phone blow up with notifications, you clumsily unlocked your phone. Seeing that all the texts came from your group chat with Dina and Leah, you tapped on your screen to read what they were saying.

In your drunken state, the blue and white hazes from your phone all blended into one, forcing you to have to squint your eyes to make out what the texts said.

leah baby - 11:32 PM

"lol tell me why i just saw cat and abby walking out the party"

"they seemed like they were fighting too"

wifey dina <3 - 11:35 PM

“y/n.”

"where the fuck are you?"

leah baby - 11:36 PM

“omg”

"y/n, why are people saying that you and ellie kissed?"

"What are you looking at?" Ellie asks.

"Oh, my friends are just texting me."

You moved to reply to your concerned friends, but your fingers felt like jelly. Despite it feeling almost impossible to type back a coherent response, you carried through.

you - 11:38 PM

"m oksy guys"

"ellie s takinf me homd"

You shut your phone off and relaxed into your seat, resting your head against the window as you watched Ellie drive, her brow furrowed in focus.

After a minute or two, you finally decided to break the silence, “Ellie?”

“Mhm?” She met your gaze momentarily before returning her eyes to the road.

“What actually happened between you and Cat?” You thought back to your conversation with Leah yesterday, giggling at the absurdity of her story, “Leah said that she cheated on you with some old man and you stole her car or some shit.”

“That did not happen,” Ellie sounded a bit defensive at first, but couldn’t help the smile that adorned her face upon hearing the gentle melody of your soft laughter.

“Then what did happen?” You asked, looking up at her with big doe eyes from your slouched sitting position.

Ellie sighed, "Well, I met her in this art class I was taking sophomore year. I thought she was really cool... and pretty," Ellie let out a short, breathy laughter as she recalled what was now just a distant memory to her. "We had a lot in common, too, so we became friends pretty quickly."

"One day we were chilling in her car listening to Pierce the Veil or whatever shit was on our playlist," Ellie paused like it still hurt her to remember, "Then she leaned in and kissed me."

"Then what happened?" You asked, fully engaged.

"Well, we started dating—and at first it was good, like really good. I mean, she was my first girlfriend since middle school, so it wasn't like I had a lot to compare it to, but still."

Ellie bit her lip for a moment, lost in thought, "Then, I guess she got tired of me. 'Said I was getting too clingy or something, started acting distant... then she cut things off."

"I'm so sorry, Ellie," you said softly, fully sympathizing with her and relating to what she went through through your own break up.

She shook her head, "It's fine. I'm over it now; it just hurts to think about."

You leaned in and placed your hand on her forearm, rubbing circles into her skin in an attempt to comfort her, "Still, nobody deserves to be treated like that."

Your heart felt like it was being squeezed a little as you witnessed the soft smile that graced on Ellie's face. It may have been there for just a second, but that was enough for you.

Ellie cleared her throat as the car came to a stop, "We're here."

You looked out the window and, truth be told, there stood your family's house illuminated under the pale moonlight.

Ellie got out the car and walked over to your side, opening the door for you and helping you get out while holding your hand.

Still inebriated, you had to lean onto Ellie as you walked up towards your house.

"Fuck, Ellie," you giggled, "I left my keys on my nightstand. I'm gonna have to crawl through my window."

Ellie laughed at you, "Are you fucking serious? How do you forget your keys?"

"Oh my God, shut up!" you laughed along with Ellie. "Dina was rushing me out the door, okay?"

"Okay, but now seriously how the fuck are we going to get up to your window?"

"Chill out, I live on the first floor. It's right there."

Once reaching the outside of your bedroom, you leaned against the vinyl panels of your house while staring at the flexing of Ellie's muscles as she pushed open your window.

You climbed through the window first, landing on the floor with a thud due to your drunken lack of coordination.

Ellie followed, climbing into your bedroom next.

"Ellie, what are you doing?" you asked, not expecting her to actually come in.

She fidgeted with her hands, suddenly a bit shy, "I just wanted to make sure that you were going to be okay before I left."

Upon seeing you struggle to get your heels off, Ellie kneeled down and helped you unfasten all the straps, tossing the shoes into a corner of your room once complete.

Stumbling over to your dresser, you pulled out a change of clothes so you could finally get out of your itchy bra and tight clothes.

"Ellie, can you please turn around while I change?" you asked.

"Oh, right—sure! I mean, yeah, of course I can," she spun around, cheeks flushed completely red. You thought it was adorable how easy it was to make her nervous and get her wrapped around your finger.

Sometimes Ellie could seem so tough, her confidence radiating in a way that appeared so effortless to those around her. Underneath her sharp tongue and edgy demeanor, though, she was just an awkward girl that got shy when you went soft on her.

Once slipping out of your party outfit and throwing on the Fleetwood Mac shirt you religiously wore to bed once a week and a striped pair of pajama pants, you told Ellie she could look again.

The alcohol debilitated your senses once more as you stumbled on your way towards your bed, making Ellie rush over and hold your waist as she helped you climb into your sheets.

As you let the comforting familiarity of your mattress embrace you whole, you realized how fucking tired you actually were.

“How about we exchange numbers?” she asked, “That way you can text me if you need anything.”

“Mmmm,” you groaned before reaching over to unlock your phone, finding yourself unable to turn it on. “Shit, it’s dead. I’ll just tell you mine.”

You recited your phone number out to her as she diligently tapped it into her phone to save it.

“Ellie?” you called out to her, your voice low and soft as you were actively trying and failing to fight off sleep.

“Yes?”

“I think you’re really sweet.” you confessed.

“Thanks,” her face turned red from your flattery, “I think you’re really drunk right now.”

You hummed, your eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered to sleep, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Of course, it’s the right thing to do.”

Before climbing out your window to return to her car, Ellie took a minute to admire you in your unconscious state. She truly believed you looked beautiful like this, curling into yourself as you buried your head deeper into your pillow. You looked more than precious with your soft lashes pressed gently against each other and your pouty lips agape. Ellie wondered if this is what angels looked like in flesh.

She shook her head, breaking herself out of her thoughts. No, she couldn’t think of you in that way.

She forced herself to rip her gaze away from you and instead head back into the night. Regardless, no matter how much she tried to tell herself that any proximity between the two of you was strictly a product of random circumstance and a desire for vengeance, the gross pink thing beating between her ribs argued otherwise.

You woke up the next day with a pounding headache that never ceased, a sour taste in your mouth, and a hot sweat that made your clothes stick to your skin. You covered your eyes with your hands in an attempt to hide from the sun, whose blinding light left black and blue dots permeating your vision.

Groaning, you pulled your phone off your nightstand.

The time on it read 1:52 PM. You didn't think you stayed at the party for that long, so you must have just been so tired after the week you had that you slept for over twelve hours.

The time wasn't what shocked you the most, though. In fact, the part that made your heart sink was the amount of texts that had blown up your inbox over night.

wifey dina <3 - 11:39 PM

“you're in a car with ellie?"

"are you fucking serious, y/n?"

leah baby - 11:42 PM

“holy shit”

"so you actually kissed ellie?"

"wait, but i thought u guys hated each other?"

wifey dina <3 - 11:44 PM

“they do."

"i don't know what she was thinking."

abigail. (cheating asshole) (DO NOT CALL) - 12:05 AM

“what the fuck”

"did you seriously make out with ellie?"

"in front of everybody?"

"are you insane?"

"out of all the fucking people you kiss ellie?"

leah baby sent an attachment - 1:03 AM

leah baby - 1:03 AM

“someone posted a photo of you two kissing on their story”

(###)-###-#### - 8:22 AM

“hey, it’s ellie”

"text me when ur awake"

You threw your phone across the room and rolled onto your side, placing your palms against your forehead as you groaned deep enough that it echoed across your bedroom walls.

What the fuck did you get yourself into?