Andrea truly doesn’t want to hurt Lena. She never has.
But this conversation is already nine months overdue. Well, nine months, plus three years. And if she doesn’t take advantage of this adrenaline high, she’s not sure when she’ll get the nerve back.
The way Lena tenses and crosses her arms tighter around herself tells Andrea she doesn’t have to elaborate.
“It’s fine. It’s not your fault I threw myself at you. And I’m the one who ran first.”
Well, yes, and Andrea obviously does not regret not kissing a 14-year-old back a few days before she left for college.
“I couldn’t give you what you wanted. But I… I could’ve give you closure.”
“I would never have let you.”
Andrea thought so too — it’s how she eventually convinced herself that ghosting her only real friend from boarding school had been for the best.
It’s only occurred to her over the past few months that that was never the point.
“You would’ve known that I’d tried.”
Lena had really thought (cringey as it was) that she might actually cry if they won ICCA’s. If she played a part in making Kara’s dream since her freshman year come true.
Only Lena hadn’t really caught on that doing so had become her dream somewhere along the way. And, well, with her track record of dreams coming true…
Unfortunately, turns out that disassociating over placing first in a fucking a cappella competition is far more mortifying than tearing up.
Especially in front of someone like Kara. Not that there is someone else like her.
So she’s supposes she should be rather grateful to her team captain for bringing her back to reality… by bringing up her most mortifying experience of all time.
Of course, crying over your childhood crush saying sorry for not like you back is also quite cringey. But Lena’s dignity has lost sight of the shoreline at this point.
“So, yeah, that - that’s what I wanted to say. In case, being a complete bitch to you since August hasn’t been a sufficient apology.”
On the one hand, Lena is surprised by the genuine laugh that bursts out of her amidst the tears. On the other hand, Andrea is the only person who’s ever rivaled Lena’s dry sense of humor.
“I know it’s not an excuse, but… it was easier than worrying about disappointing you again.”
Already nodding along, ready to wrap this up, Lena freezes when she actually process what Andrea said.
At the time, she’d been so blinded by hurt and shame for letting herself dream she ever stood a chance that she’d never even tried to put herself in her ex-best friend’s shoes.
It didn’t occur to her until she was actually getting ready for college herself that she had no idea what she’d do if a 14-year-old girl kissed her out of the blue and said she was in love with her.
Not that that was a remote possibility, Lena having sworn off friendship after convincing herself that Andrea had never given a shit about her.
Trying to convice herself, that is. Because she knew deep down that it was a lie. And that was the most excruciating part.
Still, knowing teenage Andrea had cared about her in some form… Well, Lena hadn’t just run into her at the Activies Fair three years later — very alarmed because it was not school Andrea had left for that summer — and assumed…
“I could never get your face out of my head.”
Humiliating, Lena feels herself blush, full well knowing Andrea didn’t mean it like that, and scratches at her wet cheeks as cover.
“No matter what Lex and your mother did, you - you wouldn’t cry. And I was always relieved.”
Oh? Lena’s not really sure what to say to that. But what really catches her off-guard is the sudden rasp in Andrea’s voice. And when she finally looks at the older girl for the first time since she joined her out here in the parking lot, she finds her swallowing harshly.
“Because I knew how to distract you. I was good at it.”
Andrea meets her gaze with an even more jarring attempt at a smile.
“But in the end, it was me.”
Andrea turns fully away then, her back to Lena, so all she can see is the hand running stiltedly through dark hair still pulled into a bun.
Lena doesn’t need to see her face, though.
Precariously carrying five cups of steaming hot tea in her bare hands — every kind available; you’d think a singing competition would have a more robust selection?! — Kara considers it quite an accomplishment that she doesn’t immediately give herself third-degree burns when she finally finds the freshman in the parking lot.
Successfully placing them all down on the pavement doesn’t prove to be much easier, but Kara isn’t willing to tempt fate when she’s so preoccupied with the scene in front of her.
Kara does consider her fellow senior a friend, but more in the way she considers a lot of acquaintances her friends. And, frankly, her treatment of Lena has driven a wedge between them that Kara’s doesn’t know if she’s all that interested in dislodging.
Sure, Kara had eventually convinced her that Lena is the team’s future, literally.
The reason they’d used the same repertoire for years was because no one knew how to arrange new material. Nothing better than what they already had at least.
Andrea had never admitted their severely lacking musicianship, of course. So Kara had done it for her… after not defending Lena when she’d previously had the chance.
The point is Kara’s friendship with Lena “it’s just math” Luthor is her priority. She can live with never speaking to Andrea again after graduation. The thought of anything changing between her and Lena after graduation has been making her nauseous for weeks.
Kara doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, she swears. Honestly, she’d kind of expected them to pick up on her presence whether she dropped the cups or not. But it seems the pair is still in their own little bubble, Andrea demurely wiping her face while pulling back from the embrace. Lena keeps her close, though, loosely holding her elbows.
Kara definitely should’ve turned around by now. She’s hardly in a position to get self-righteous about secrets when she has yet to tell her best friend that she won’t be leaving campus, after all.
Staying on for a Master’s in Journalism hadn’t been her plan even back in the fall. But a lot has happened between now and then, so.
Andrea sighs with none of her characteristic exasperation.
“I knew you had feelings for me before you kissed me.”
Kara is positive the only reason she doesn’t audibly gasp is because she’s too shocked. Well, that and Lena scoffs loudly as she takes a step back.
She’d figured that Lena and Andrea had a history, per se. But her mind had never gone… there.
“You didn’t act like it.”
“How was I supposed to act?”
In four years, Kara has never heard Andrea speak so gently, without even a hint of condescension to boot.
Lena’s more choked scoff seems to suggest she’s not used to it either… and that Kara is probably missing something.
“You don’t have to believe me. And if you want to tell me I’m wrong about Kara, go ahead.”
Yeah, she’s definitely missing something.
“But… if you want to tell me I’m right, I certainly wouldn’t discourage that either.”
Lena’s chuckles in that beautifully thick way she does when Kara gushes over one of her mash-ups profusely enough.
“Still too young for this ride, sweetie. Sorry.”
Kara can’t help her eye roll at Andrea gesturing at her own body like it’s a letter on Wheel of Fortune. But then Andrea frowns, which makes slightly more sense when Kara hears Lena’s abruptly dejected tone.
“You - you and me. Me and Kara. It’s the same age gap.”
“Yes, but I’ve known you since you were a baby.”
Even as her mind races — scrambling for the missing context — Kara can still hear Lena’s scowl clear as day. Andrea waves dismissively.
But then she takes a step forward, her arms hovering pretty awkwardly for someone who was just clinging to Lena a minute ago before she settles them on Lena’s shoulders.
“You jump. I jump. Okay?”
Kara recognizes the quote instantly, but it doesn’t clear anything up for her. Other than it means something to Lena, judging by the way she loops her arm through Andrea’s and leisurely leads them further out into the parking lot.
So they’re thankfully well out of earshot by the time Kara accidentally kicks over all the cups.
