#sethkate

The letter wasn’t long; it was written in the same elaborate, graceful hand as her name. It read:

I thought you should know that your new boyfriend already has a girlfriend. He’s a chronic liar, so it falls to me to tell you the truth. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. - S.

For a few prolonged moments, all Kate could do was stare down at the paper, completely baffled. She’d barely begun to process it all in her head - boyfriend? What, Kyle? - when Richie tugged it out of her grasp, and held the paper out in front of him, eyes traveling rapidly over the lines. He too stared at it for a few seconds, then his head fell back, and he groaned to the ceiling. “Oh, fucking A.”

“You know what they’re talking about? ‘Cause I don’t have a clue.”

His head came back down, and held the paper up to their eye level, his own rolling. “Kate, meet Sonja. Sonja, meet Kate.”

“Huh?” She saw the delicately swirling S at the bottom, and suddenly she remembered that moment in the bathroom the other week, when Kisa had come storming in. It wasn’t Sonja, was it?

Kate had wondered who Sonja was, of course, but that brief, throwaway line had been forgotten in favor of the larger picture at the time. She’d just been punched in the face, after all.

“Who - who’s Sonja? And why is she sending me notes?”

Richie sighed, a weary, long-suffering sound. “She’s Seth’s ex. Sort of.”

Kate’s brows lifted. “How can she be sort of an ex? And again, why is she sending - “

“They dated for like, three weeks. Then Seth dropped her ass. Good fucking riddance, if you ask me.” He flicked the note in his hand. “She’s bat-shit crazy. Way worse than Vanessa.”

Blinking, Kate looked back down at the note. “So she, what, thinks Seth’s my boyfriend? That’s…” Impossible, she thought, ignoring anything else she might have felt about the matter.

“Yeah. She did this with Vanessa, too, except she - “ he stopped abruptly, and Kate looked up at him.

“She…what?”

Richie sighed, and rolled his eyes again. “She tried to convince Vanessa that he was gay, is what,” he said flatly.

Before she could stop it, a choked laugh escaped her. “Has she seen his room?” She wasn’t sure how posters of a scantily-clad Cindy Crawford and Pamela Anderson could convince anyone he wasn’t straight.

His lip curled in a mocking grin. “A better question might be ‘has she seen his porn stash?’”

Kate sputtered and felt her pulse spike, which she knew was his goal. The bastard. Then, as she gained control of herself again, a little pang beneath her ribcage made itself known. This girl probably had seen Seth’s room, just like Vanessa. It wasn’t as if he was a total leper; both he and Richie could be deceptively charming when they put their minds to it - bright, dangerous things that drew the eye before you remembered to be careful. Seth wore that charm easily, like a jacket he could shrug on and off.

Richie…Richie was different. He could do it - she was certain of that. She’d seen flashes of it, quick and sharp and unexpectedly disarming. But more often than not, in crowded rooms or noisy spaces, he seemed to draw inward instead, shoulders tightening as if the world was closing in on him. When Seth was there with them, it seemed to ease a fraction, like he was borrowing Seth’s armor for just a bit.

He didn’t sand himself down for people. Didn’t stretch himself thin just to fit. And some small, stubborn part of her was glad he didn’t.

But the thought of either of them turning that easy magnetism on someone else made her chest ache - a quiet, insistent squeeze. Ever since that day she’d gone over to check on Richie, she’d found herself more aware of him, in ways that made her pulse stutter; similar to the way she noticed Seth - and it was irritating, distracting, and entirely unnecessary.

She forced herself to let it go. Didn’t tug at the thread. Let it lie, shoved the feeling neatly aside, and focused on the matter at hand.

“Okay,” she began, carefully neutral, pointedly glossing over his last comment, “should I be worried about this?” She gestured toward the paper still in Richie’s possession. “Because Kisa mentioned something about Sonja hitting me.”

Richie blinked exactly once at the mention of Kisa, but otherwise didn’t react. He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “She and Vanessa got into it once, is all.”

“Oh, that’s all, huh?” Kate responded with liberally-applied sarcasm. Then, “good grief,” she muttered to herself, eyeing the note with a newfound apprehension.

Richie’s eyes caught hers, sharp and bright behind his glasses, and he straightened as he folded his arms, shoulders stretching the fabric of his tee. Suddenly she remembered him in the restroom that day, how gentle he’d been when he cleaned her face, and the same strength and precision he’d shown when he tugged off his shirt, muscles shifting like coiled wire.

Kate blinked and dragged her attention back to the present, before those thoughts could grow any more complicated.

Now, in the stance of someone utterly serious and protective, that same careful, deliberate energy was directed toward her again. “Do you really think we’d let her pull that shit with you?”

She swallowed and had to glance away from him, then, ducking away from the intensity of those eyes. But the weight of the words didn’t need to be loud to hit home; for a heartbeat, Seth didn’t exist - only Richie, hands steady and careful, both with her and with the knife he’d wielded. She felt it all in her chest: her heartbeat loud, warmth rushing, the undeniable gravity of him focused entirely on her. It left her a little breathless.

“I can handle myself,” she said, more quietly than she’d meant to. She cleared her throat, and deliberately kept her eyes steady on the note, praying he hadn’t noticed.

There was a pause, and she felt him studying her. “I know,” he finally replied.

He looked down at the letter again, jaw tightening slightly. “But,” he added quietly, “she’s not wrong about one thing.”

Kate blinked, refocusing on him. “What?”

“She’s jealous.” He met her eyes, raising his brows.

“And she should be.”

The words hung there a second longer than they probably should have.

Kate felt them, the words, through her entire body, as if she’d stuck her finger in a live socket. She was reminded suddenly, forcefully, of his face when he’d told her: it’s better when you’re here.

For a second she just stared at him, wondering if he’d meant to say that out loud.

Richie seemed to realize, belatedly, that he’d let that come out completely unfiltered. He made a noise low in his throat, as if he’d startled himself, and clumsily adjusted his glasses. “Not - not like that,” he said quickly - too quickly, fumbling over his own words. “I just mean…”

His shoulders rolled, shrugging off something heavier than the conversation called for. Kate told her heart to calm the hell down, already, and pay attention to what he was trying to say. Richie - and Seth, for that matter - sometimes had a roundabout way of getting to the point of things - there were normally movie references involved - and this seemed to be no different. There would be time to overanalyze her own reaction later.

Richie blew out a hard breath, trying again. “We’ve never really had a friend who’s a girl before,” he said slowly, as if reciting each word in his head before it came out of his mouth. There wasn’t any particular emphasis on the word, but Kate heard it anyway. We.

Kate tilted her head. “You’ve known girls before.” She kept her tone light, her eyes on his face.

He cleared his throat, his own gaze shunting away for a brief moment before coming back to her. “Yeah, but that’s different.”

“How?”

He made a vague gesture with the note. “They’re either dating Seth, or trying to date him, or trying to kill each other.” A pause. “You’re…not doing any of that.”

“That you know of,” she countered, aiming for flippant. But something in the back of her mind took note of the wording: dating Seth or trying to. He’d excluded himself from that statement. Did that mean he’d never -

A faint smirk flickered across his face, grateful for the out. “Exactly. Uncharted territory.”

Then he shrugged a shoulder. “We’ve just,” he went on, softer now, “never had a friend like you.”

There it was. Quieter. Honest.

He didn’t look at her when he said it.

Kate felt heat creep up the back of her neck - not embarrassment, but something else. Something warmer.

She folded the letter in half and reached for her locker. “Well,” she said lightly, because she didn’t trust herself to say anything heavier, “I’d hate to be the cause of a full-scale riot.”

Richie huffed a laugh. “We’ll try to avoid that.” But his eyes flicked down the hallway - scanning.

Just in case.

In the end, Kate decided to wait until school was out before showing Seth the note. Richie agreed. Seth was gonna go postal no matter what, and she didn’t want it to be in the middle of Trig.

One thing she didn’t want either boy doing, she’d decided, was confront Sonja. The girl had contacted her, not them. It was her mess to sort through. When she told Richie as much, his mouth had twisted, as if tasting something bitter. “But - “

“No. Is it your name on that note? It’s mine. I’ll talk to her. Girl to girl.”

It had taken him a good minute to agree. His shoulders tense, he’d eyed her, as if doubting her ability to handle such a scenario. “Face it, Richie, you wouldn’t talk so much as loom.”

Richie had, predictably, crossed his arms at this, brows furrowing. “That's just my face.” He'd muttered. Then,

“Besides, I'd be talking plenty. It's called threatening.”

Kate had rocked back on her heels to eye him, mouth twitching despite herself. “Exactly,” she’d stated dryly. “No threatening.” She gestured at him vaguely. “No…whatever this whole ‘ominous bodyguard’ thing you’ve got going on is.”

He had huffed loudly, but looked a little pleased with himself, nonetheless. Kate shook her head at him, smile finally winning out. “You’re ridiculous.”

Kate waited until they were almost to the Mustang before pulling the note out of her bag. Richie, on Seth’s other side, saw what she was doing and grimaced at her. Brace yourself.

She did just that, and without a word, not even daring to look at him, held the folded-up letter where Seth could see it without breaking stride.

Seth glanced down at it as he pulled out his keys. “What,” he grunted. She just continued to brandish it in his direction. Rolling his eyes a little, Seth took the paper in his free hand, flipping it over, inspecting it, brows furrowed. Immediately Kate slipped a hand beneath his arm and kept him moving forward. Richie dropped a little bit behind them both, eyes on Seth’s back.

She felt it when he began to slow, staring at the front of the note in consternation. Groaning under her breath, she tightened her grip, propelling him on. But Seth, being decidedly bigger than her, suddenly stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the parking lot, and ripped open the note with a loud swear.

With a resigned sigh, she glanced back at Richie, who had stopped too and was waiting with folded arms.

It only took Seth a few seconds to read the brief missive, then he was whipping around to face her, face a thundercloud. “What the fuck.”

She made a face at him. “I got that in my locker earlier today. Thought you might want to know.”

But Seth was already snarling, spinning around around on his heel before she’d even finished her sentence, doing the exact thing she and Richie had thought he would do. With an exasperated sigh, Richie snagged the back of Seth’s coat as he blew past him, using his momentum against him as he swung him around in a half circle, until Seth, stumbling, was pointed back in the direction he’d originally been facing.

“Goddammit, Richard, not now!” He tried again, yielding the exact same results. Kate struggled not to laugh as Seth yanked his jacket from Richie’s hand, and wheeled around a third time.

“Okay, so this is why I didn’t tell you earlier. Seth, stop!” She latched onto his arm, putting her weight behind it. “She’s probably gone home already, just slow down, okay?”

He spun abruptly back around to face her, nearly knocking her off-balance. Immediately his hand shot out, grabbing her by her elbow, steadying her. “Jesus, watch it,” he grumbled, seeming to conveniently overlook the fact that he was the one who had pulled at her. But despite his gruff demeanor, his grip was gentle.

Kate scoffed lightly, but he was already letting go of her to scowl down at the note still clenched in his fist. Then he shot an accusatory look over his shoulder. “You knew about this?” He fired at Richie.

“I was standing right there with her when it fell outta her locker. What was I supposed to do, avert my eyes?”

Kate cut him a dry look, but Seth was steamrolling ahead. “And you didn’t think to mention it to me?”

Kate groaned. “Okay, before this turns into a whole - ”

“Kate,” Seth said, not taking his eyes off his brother, “how long?”

Richie answered before she could; he shrugged one shoulder. “Since second block.”

Seth stared at him. “Second - ” He cut himself off, sounding incredulous. “You sat through half the day knowing this psycho was leaving notes in her locker and didn’t say anything?”

Richie folded his arms, looking unimpressed. “You know, you’re reacting exactly how we thought you would.”

Kate pointed between them. “Yes. That. Exhibit A.”

Seth looked back at her like he’d just remembered she was there.

“She went into your locker.”

“It’s not Fort Knox, Seth.”

“That’s not the point.”

“No,” Richie said dryly from behind them, “the point is you trying to start a fistfight in the fucking parking lot.”

Seth swung his head toward him. “You think this is funny?”

“I think,” Richie replied evenly, “that she’s already gone home and you punching a locker isn’t gonna solve it.”

For a moment Seth just stood there, breathing hard, the note crumpled in his fist. Kate could see his shoulders squared aggressively beneath his jacket. Then he looked back at Kate again, eyes sharp. “She been bothering you before this?”

“No. I didn’t even know who she was up until Richie told me.”

That didn’t seem to help. Seth’s scowl deepened. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean much. She coulda tried to talk to you without introducing herself.”

Kate stared, the corners of her mouth twitching despite herself. “Seth - “

“He’s right,” Richie chimed in flatly. “Sounds like something she’d do.”

Now she stared at both of them. Then she threw her hands up in the air, speeding up so that she was ahead of the two. “You’re both paranoid. Really, actually paranoid.”

“It’s not paranoia if you’re right,” the boys said together, voices grim.

Despite her irritation, she couldn’t help but laugh as she spun back around, walking backwards. “Remind me never to discuss JFK with you two,” she said, shaking her head.

Seth immediately cut in, frowning, distracted for a split second. “Grassy knoll, obviously.”

Richie held up a finger like a lecturer. “Well, technically, it’s more complicated than that—”

Kate rolled her eyes so hard she almost saw the back of her skull. “Yeah, thanks, history professors. I’ll make sure to bring popcorn next time.”

She took another step back -

- and immediately felt a hand catch her elbow, steering her sharply to the side as a car rolled past behind her.

“Would you kindly turn around before you eat concrete or get flattened?” Richie griped.

Kate huffed, but let him guide her, turning back around and falling into step again, this time between the two.

The parking lot stretched out ahead of them, late afternoon light slanting low, students thinning out toward their cars. Normal. Everything looked normal. Which made the note feel even more ridiculous.

“For the record,” she said, resettling her bag against her, “this is exactly why I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“Because you thought I’d react?” Seth said flatly.

“Because I knew you would,” she retorted tartly. Beside her, Richie made a soft humming noise of agreement.

Seth didn’t respond to that. He just walked a little faster, jaw tight. Kate glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was still wound up. Still halfway in that place where everything became a problem he had to fix, immediately, preferably with force.

It was…a lot. But it was also -

She pressed her lips together, looking away before she could finish that thought.

Seth stabbed the key into the Mustang’s lock a little harder than necessary. The metal clicked with a sharp sound that made Kate wince, just slightly. Fortunately for everyone, he didn’t miss and scratch the paint.

He yanked open the driver’s door, then paused and looked back at her.

“She doesn’t get to bother you,” he said roughly.

Kate blinked. “Seth - ”

“No,” he said, sharper now. “She doesn’t.”

The certainty in his voice made something in her chest tighten - a bit of annoyance, yes, but something else threaded through it. Something warmer, more complicated, that she didn’t really feel like examining too closely.

Richie leaned against the roof of the car, arms folded. “That’s…more or less the point I’ve been trying to make all afternoon.”

Kate looked between them, exasperated now. “I can handle one jealous ex-girlfriend, you know.”

Seth just looked at her, face set in a familiar scowl. “That’s not the point.”

There it was again - that thing where he decided what the point was and refused to budge from it. Kate opened her mouth, then closed it again.

Because arguing with that version of Seth was like arguing with a brick wall that thought it was doing you a favor.

Richie pushed off the hood of the car and leaned to open the passenger side door, then practically fell into the back, sprawling out like a big cat. “Just look on the bright side,” he said, as Kate climbed into the front. “You’ve officially made it onto Sonja’s enemies list.”

Kate rolled her eyes. Seth said nothing, mouth in a grim line as he tossed his bag into the back beside Richie.

“That’s basically a rite of passage around here,” Richie continued blithely, as if he hadn’t spent the whole morning just as pissed off as Seth was now.

Kate finally craned her neck to look back at him, scowling. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m trying to add perspective.”

Seth dropped into the driver’s seat with a huff, slamming the door a little harder than strictly necessary. “The perspective is she needs to leave Kate the hell alone, or fucking else.”

From the back seat, Richie leaned forward between them, resting his arms on the backs of their seats. “See?” he said mildly. “He’s back to threatening already.”

Seth glanced at him in the rear-view mirror. “You’re one comment away from walking home.”

Richie smirked and leaned back again.

Kate shook her head. “You two are exhausting.”

From the back seat, Richie said mildly, “And yet you keep hanging out with us.”

Kate pointed a finger over her shoulder without even turning around. “Don’t push your luck, Gecko.”

Richie just laughed.

She turned to Richie, who was on her other side, perched on the arm of the couch and smoking one of Burt’s joints. As if he could pick up on her thoughts, he turned more fully towards her, angling his head down to her, pushing his hair out of his face. “What’s up?” He drawled lazily.

Smoke curled from his lips as he spoke, hanging in a haze around them. Even the secondhand stuff was enough to get her feeling a little dizzy, and she waved a hand though it impatiently. “I’m thirsty,” she told him, poking him in the thigh.

He took the time to take took another hit, then leaned away slightly to blow the smoke out the corner of his mouth, away from her. “For what?”

“Vodka and that stuff, the cherry syrup. Please,” she made sure to add.

Richie laughed low in his throat at that, ducking his head a little as he looked at her. “Cherry syrup.”

Kate tried very hard not to pout at him. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything.” He tilted his head. “I just like that that’s what you call it.”

“Well, I don’t exactly spend my weekends doing shots in Burt’s basement.”

“Good,” he said easily, sliding slowly off the arm of the couch and onto his feet. “Somebody should maintain standards around here.”

He disappeared into the crowd and the smoke, holding his joint above everyone’s heads as he went.

With a little sigh, Kate tucked herself further into the couch, curling up with her booted feet beneath her as she snuggled into the corner. Kalinda looked over from where she’d been flirting absentmindedly with one of the football players.

“You good? You look a little…”

“Freezing?” Kinda,” Kate said with an embarrassed laugh. “‘It’s what I get for sacrificing function for fashion.”

Kalinda made a sympathetic face. “I hear that,” she nodded ruefully. “I’m just lucky this sweater matched this outfit.” She gestured down at herself.

The football player - something Taggart, that’s the only part of his name she remembered - drifted off, apparently bored now that talk had turned to clothes. Kalinda didn’t seem to notice.

The two were deep into discussion by the time Richie made it back, joint between his lips and two drinks dangling from his fingertips. Kate let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, my God, thank you,” she groaned, grabbing up the drink, noticeably hers due to its color. She proceeded to bury her face in it, and inhale a mouthful.

Heat licked her throat and belly as the vodka slid down her. Kate suppressed a grateful shudder.

Richie watched as she gulped down the drink, brows raised. “Didn’t think you were that keen on getting shitfaced tonight,” he said dryly.

Ugh. Time to come clean. “I’m not trying to get drunk, I’m trying to get warm,” she retorted sullenly, lifting her face briefly from the Solo cup without meeting his eyes.

Both of the guys had protested her choice of dress when she’d hopped into the passenger seat that evening, but Kate had shrugged them off. The crowd will keep me warm, she’d responded, laughing.

“Told you to bring a jacket,” Richie reminded her now.

Kate groaned into her drink. “Don’t.”

“I distinctly remember warning you.” He leaned back, watching her with a sort of lazy amusement. “And I also distinctly remember you ignoring us.”

“Well, now I’m cold and you’re being insufferable. So really, who’s the winner here?” She huffed another breath into the cup, crinkling the plastic beneath her cold fingers. Warmth lit up her belly from the vodka, but it hadn’t reached the rest of her yet. Her shoulders drew up instinctively against the chill, and she pushed herself further into the corner of the couch, tucking her head into Richie’s side.

Automatically his arm went around her shoulders for a moment, before he slowly pulled himself upright, leaning forward with an elbow braced on one knee. His drink went on the coffee table in front of them. Then he offered Kate the joint, and, blinking, she took it.

After a moment’s pause where she considered it thoughtfully, she took a careful hit off it.

Richie stilled beside her. The music still thudded around them, voices carrying through the haze of smoke - but his attention settled fully on her as she inhaled. Watching.

As she exhaled slowly, he finally moved again, hooking a hand behind his neck and peeling off his hoodie.

“Here,” he murmured, gently depositing it in her lap.

Her head, her skin, everything was faintly buzzing as she sank her fingers into the soft, worn material. Dimly she registered Kalinda on her other side, watching them like a hawk. One fueled by gossip and rumors.

But Kate was feeling too good now to really care about any of that, about what it meant when a guy gave you his jacket. That toke had really been just what she’d needed to finally relax a little. Besides, it wasn’t as if they’d never given her their clothes before. Just not in such a public setting.

So, giggling to herself, Kate handed the roach and her drink over to him, and picked up the hoodie and slipped it over her head, further tousling her already messy bun. The sleeves hung past her fingertips, and she knew it would fall low on her thighs once she stood up - there was nearly a full foot between her and Richie, after all, and a lot more muscle.

As the garment fell over her, his scent wrapped around her too - weed, and the faint underscore of cigarettes and Hugo Boss. And something warm beneath it all that belonged only to Richie.

Something hot and heady curled low in her stomach, something that had nothing to do with the vodka or the smoke.

“Better?”

Richie had pulled up and crossed one leg up on on the arm of the couch, and he leaned on it, watching her steadily - the joint dangling from his fingertips, momentarily forgotten, the smoke curling slowly into the air around him.

She beamed up at him, and he gave her a lopsided grin.

“Now you don't look like you're about to die.”

She laughed softly into the collar of the hoodie, tugging it up to cover the lower half of her face. “Your concern is touching.”

“Wasn't concern.”

Kate cocked her head at him, mouth tilting a little. “No?”

“Nope.”

“Then what was it?”

Richie shrugged, taking another drag off the joint. “Self-preservation. If you froze to death on Burt’s couch, it'd be a whole thing. I’d be obligated to help hide the body,” he gestured vaguely with the roach, “etcetera etcetera.”

Kate snorted.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Kalinda watching them again.

Richie seemed to notice it too.

Instead of moving, though, he settled himself more firmly on the arm of the couch, one boot hooked against the cushion and the other planted on the floor, leaning back onto the slanted back of the sofa. It looked deeply uncomfortable.

Kalinda's eyebrows climbed higher.

Kate waited, with increasing incredulity, as the silence stretched on.

Until she finally burst out, “that cannot possibly be comfortable.”

“It's fine.”

“It looks painful.”

“It's really not.”

“It is.”

Richie opened his mouth, clearly prepared to defend this increasingly ridiculous position with his life.

Before he could, Kate grabbed him by the wrist and scooted toward the middle of the couch. “Get down here, you idiot.”

Caught off guard, he fumbled, slipped, and landed heavily beside her. The couch bounced. Their shoulders collided, and she collapsed against him in a giggling heap.

Automatically his arm went around her shoulders, steadying her.

Kalinda made a strangled sound. Kate ignored her in favor of settling further against him, still giggling a little, and he let her. He tucked himself into the corner of the couch, and she tucked herself against his side, feet folded up beneath her. Then, finally situated comfortably, she turned back to Kalinda. Kalinda who looked like she was biting her cheek, hard, face twitching.

“Now, what were you saying about Margaret and that one guy?”

Kalinda, who was still staring, startled in place. “Uh. Right. That.”

It took her a minute, but she finally got back on track, and soon she and Kate were exchanging info like a pair of inside traders. The whole while Richie sat docilely behind her, his thumb occasionally brushing against her shoulder. She could feel it even through her layers. Not quite realizing what she was doing, she shifted just slightly, so that his arm pressed more firmly against her.

He huffed out a quiet breath at that, and then his other arm reached around, holding the joint out in front of her. Humming in thanks, she absently took another hit, feeling the THC hit her system, spreading from her pleasantly fuzzy head out to her limbs. God, why had she never done this before coming to Houston? She’d really been missing out. On a lot of things.

But the high coaxed her brain back towards more pleasant thoughts, and she offered the joint to Kalinda. The girl shrugged, holding up her nearly-empty Solo cup. “I’m good,” she said, smirking. Then she snagged a passer-by, someone from the marching band, if Kate wasn’t mistaken. “Kyle, would you be a sweetie and get me a refill?” Kalinda smiled her most beatific smile, flashing her dimples, and held up her cup. “Vodka cranberry, please.”

The name did something to Kate, something faint but unpleasant. She shifted against Richie, suddenly hyper-aware of everywhere they touched - the warmth of his side, the weight of his arm - and the fact that she was wearing his clothes.

Oh, who cared. Kate felt good, felt loose and a little giddy, and she was with her friends, and that was that.

She burrowed just a little more against Richie, and his fingers wrapped around her shoulder, anchoring her to him. If they’d been alone, she’d have been in his lap by now - not because it meant something, but because it was comfortable - but they weren’t and she couldn’t. It would look - well. Not good.

It wasn’t that she was doing anything wrong. They were friends. Probably her best ones, if she was being completely honest. No offense to Jess, but she’d never been as close to her as she was to the guys. And she couldn’t help it that the three of them were just very tactile people.

The conversation slipped easily back into place after that. Kalinda resumed dispensing gossip like it was a public service, Kate contributed where she could, head pleasantly hazy, and Richie stayed tucked into the corner of the couch behind her, saying very little. Every now and then he'd pass her the joint or make some quiet, sarcastic observation over her shoulder, sending her and Kalinda into fits of giggles.

Time seemed to soften around the edges, the music and chatter blurring together with the warmth of the hoodie and the steady weight of him beside her. It was comfortable. Easy enough that, after a while, she stopped paying attention to the rest of the party altogether.

Kate was halfway through telling Kalinda that Monica Hayes had absolutely stolen that top from the mall when the weight against the couch shifted.

Richie looked up.

Before she could turn to see what had caught his attention, somebody dropped bonelessly into the empty space beside her, jostling the cushions hard enough to make her spill a little vodka on her hands.

“Guess how much I won,” Seth asked, turning his back on a sputtering Kalinda and grinning broadly at her. He’d thrown his arms along the back of the couch, one partly behind her, and he used that hand to snag a loose tendril of her hair and tug.

Laughing, she wiped her hands on Seth’s jacket. He didn’t even seem to notice. Then she tried to brush her hair away from him, but he clung to it, winding it around his finger. “Guess,” he said again.

She had to bend her head back a little so he wouldn’t pull too hard. “Two bucks,” she smirked up at him.

“You’re in debt,” chimed in Richie.

“Cute. Real cute.”

He finally let go of Kate’s hair so that he could reach into his jacket, and pulled a ridiculously large wad of bills halfway out of an inner pocket, so that only the two of them could see. He smirked at Kate’s wide eyes. “Made bank, baby.”

“Man, don’t flash that shit around,” snapped Richie, but quietly. He cast a wary glance around them, narrowing his eyes briefly at Kalinda over Seth’s shoulder.

“I ain’t flashin’ shit. I wasn’t born yesterday, jackass.” Seth tucked the money back into his jacket, looking put-out.

“Coulda fooled - ”

Kate elbowed Richie in the side. “Oof,” he finished weakly, rubbing at the spot where her elbow had connected.

“See? Kate knows what’s up.”

“So not taking sides here,” Kate stated dryly, her head lolling back against Richie’s shoulder. She felt so light, as if she could float away at any minute. She closed her eyes. “You’re both ridiculous, is what’s up.”

Then she felt a light pinch at her side, and startled, eyes flying back open.

“Don’t fall asleep on us, princess. You wanna be known as the girl who passed out on Burt’s couch halfway through a party?”

“She will be, if you two don’t bore her to death first,” said a snide voice, and Kate remembered belatedly that Kalinda was still there, on Seth’s far side.

But before she could lean around him to speak, Seth reached out again, tugging at the front of her top. “Or freeze. You, uh, get cold, Fuller?”

There was a dangerous note in his voice; she could just hear the taunt locked and loaded behind his teeth. Kate huffed and crossed her arms across her front protectively. “Maybe I’m just making a fashion statement.”

He snickered and leaned back, so he could study her more fully. The playful expression slowly faded, then his head tilted. There was something in his gaze that had her clutching her cup until she heard it crinkle - a look she’d seen a handful of times now. A flicker of something warm, quietly pleased. Almost as if he liked what he saw.

Then his mouth quirked, and the moment vanished.

He made as if to get up, and Kate immediately protested. “You just got here!” She went to grab his jacket front, but just ended up sloshing her drink.

Seth just laughed. “Yeah, well winning makes a guy thirsty.”

But before made his way completely off the couch, he paused, one knee on the cushions and a hand catching himself on the back, leaning in so his mouth was at her ear. He got so close she could feel his lips just brush the delicate shell. “Also?” He murmured, tugging again at Richie’s hoodie. “Told ya so.”

Laughing, he ducked, but not quite in time to avoid Kate’s smack on his shoulder.

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” she sniffed, rubbing her hand and leaning back into Richie.

From behind her he stated, very seriously, “Too late now. We came as a set.”

“No refunds,” Seth added, finally clambering the rest of the way to his feet.

Kate rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I checked.”

Then Seth was off to the kitchen, probably for some tequila, and Kate was left with a goggling Kalinda and an amused Richie.

Kate blinked at Kalinda, slightly nonplussed at her expression. “What’s wrong?”

“…Y’all,” Kalinda finally declared, throwing her hands up, “are so frickin’ weird.”

Eventually Kalinda had to move, or get shunted off the couch by force when Seth returned, tequila bottle in hand. Rolling her eyes, she muttered something about drinks and stalked off in search of people who understood the concept of personal space.

Kate, now happily cross-faded and oblivious with it, only waved genially when she got up to leave, ensconced as she was between the two boys.

She found Burt and Ximena in the far corner by the pool table. Burt was perched on a stool with a beer in hand while Ximena leaned against the table, arguing with him about music, or movies, or politics. It was honestly hard to tell.

Kalinda stopped in front of them.

“Well,” she said after a long moment. “I wasn't expecting...all that.”

Burt glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the sitting area, then back at her. “Lemme guess. First time seeing the three of 'em up close?”

She frowned. “Is that...normal?”

Burt laughed into his beer.

Ximena, on the other hand, didn't look surprised. She just rolled her eyes and took a sip from her own cup. “Yeah. The Geckos are enough of a disaster on their own.” She paused, considering it. “Adding Kate to the equation somehow just makes it worse.”

“I dunno about worse, but weirder is pretty accurate,” Burt chimed in.

“Oh, you haven’t seen them out in the general public. It’s definitely worse.”

Kalinda was confused, intrigued, and also maybe a little worried. She was one hundred percent sure Kate had a boyfriend. She’d met the guy, after all.

She was less certain that the Gecko boys cared about this little fact.

Kalinda decided she needed another drink, and set off in search of one. And figured, just this once, that she'd leave well enough alone. Kate was a big girl, and if she wanted to collect a couple of extra boyfriends, well…as juicy as that was, it was exhausting to witness.

She caught one last glimpse of them as she headed for the stairs: Kate was still settled back against Richie, tucked into his hoodie, and Seth sat sideways on the couch facing her, their legs tangled up together.

Yeah. She wasn’t gonna try unpacking all that.

TBC! There's a part 2, coming soon :3