Falling For My Best Friend

Chapter 7

Look, I didn't mean for her to get suspended. Really.

The gym coach pulls me from the water with his gross vein-y hands and inspects my face as if he's looking for zits (for the record, I have none). His eyes befall my lower lip and he grimaces.

"Legal action should be taken," he declares, scowling. "I'm calling your parents."

"N-no! No! No legal action, please!" My eyes shoot open and I feel my chest freeze. "If... If you take legal action, I'll quit the swim team!" I add with a splutter.

In all honesty, it's a pretty hollow threat. There are no doubt other swimmers dying to take my place as captain if I leave the position open, and the exclusion of the swim team would probably hurt me more than him in the long run. But he bites the worm like a walleyed fish anyways, and assures me that he'll try to work something out privately.

"Thank you," I squeak.

"I'll see what I can do," he mutters with a noncommittal grunt. "In any case, you should probably take the rest of the period off. Go dry up."

"Is Peridot in the lockers?" I ask. I can't tell if the caution in my voice is instead anticipation, and for some reason, that jars me.

"No, she's in my office. Don't worry, you're safe," he rests a hand on my shoulder for support, his hard glare falling for just a moment before steeling once more. "If you're really that nervous about it, you can take my whistle in case something comes up." He tugs off the plastic thing and hands it to me.

Although the plastic is chewed and has his nasty spit on it, I can tell he's just trying to be helpful, so I accept it after a brief moment of reluctance. With a thanks, I retreat into the locker rooms.

It's very surreal without anyone else inside of it. The narrow walls and dirty floors are as quiet as an abandoned operating table, lying in wait for the next time it will dissect the loose clothes from a girl. I decide that I don't like it, and hurry to affix my shorts upon my hips and my jersey upon my back.

And because the silence is eerie, I let my mind wander. I try to recall what exactly happened between my anger and the kiss, but it's like a fleeting dream. All I can remember is redness, and hotness. Maybe they existed separately, or maybe they existed in unison, but I don't think it matters as long as I know that they were both definitely there.

And I think, in all my haze, that's one of the only things I do know.

Apart from the red and the hot (or the hot and red- the order isn't really of vital importance), I can discern three things at least;

1.) I didn't hurt Peridot badly. If I did, she'd be in the school infirmary, not in the gym coach's office.

2.) The kiss, while it might've seemed like a thousand years, probably only equated to a second or two.

And 3.) If anyone acted irrationally or out of impulse to the given situation, it's Peridot.

And it's these three things that keep me loftily above the acceptance of my own responsibility for the rest of the hour.

"Oh my goodness, Lapis!" My ears perk up at the familiar voice. Pearl scuttles across the lunchroom, hands gripping her tray with anxious fervor. I think they're shaking. She smacks it down at the table and shoves it aside, grabbing my chin in a swiftly gentle motion and tilting it up for her to get a better angle of my lip. I subconsciously lean into the warmth of her hand, too exhausted to pull away or make up some defensive bullshit.

"Hi, Pearl." I mumble. "How's your day been going?"

"What on earth happened?!" She runs her thumb over the nick, and I wince.

"I don't want to talk about it," I grumble, nudging her hand away. Pearl purses her lips together and offers me some of her lunch in a last-ditch attempt to console me.

I don't know why I never have a lunch- it's not like I'm living impoverished in my clean, two story house. I just don't like putting effort into sustaining my life. Plus, it's not like I need the extra beef anyways. Pearl's never hungry, so she always lets me mooch off of her tray, a gesture I'm fond of, even in its uselessness.

But today, I'm too exhausted and nauseous to eat. I push her tray in front of her and lay on my arms, staring listlessly at the stitches in my jacket.

"Lapis..."

"I said I didn't wanna talk about it," I growl, firmer this time. "Eat your food already." My hands stiffen under the shield of my jacket, and I force myself to relax them. I already lost my cool once today- I don't want to lose it again. Especially not in front of my girlfriend.

"I love you," Pearl whispers.

"Yeah, okay."

Right now, I really don't want to hear an "I love you". It's too heavy- it weighs on my body like an iron chest plate, over-protecting me from a danger that doesn't exist. I wish she would just tell me to suck it up and stop moping around, but that's more of a Peridot thing in all honesty.

The dismissal bell rings, and I go on with my day. The kids in the lunch room flood through the halls in a mad rush to get their things before the tardy bell rings.

Suddenly, an idea formulates in my head. I make an estimate of how long it would take me to run to Peridot's locker, and after I'm sure I won't be late to study hall, I go for it.

I stare at my best friend as she fumbles with her lock. My legs want to move, but I'm reluctant to confront her. I don't want to make things worse. It's been two weeks since we started this little game, and it seems like the more I try to work things out, the more impossibly complicated they become. It feels like I'm pulling apart headphones that went through a dryer cycle in my pocket.

You sabotaged her locker for a reason, I scold myself. Talk to her!

Maybe it's the fresh taste of liquid copper in my mouth or the twist in my gut, but I just cannot bring myself to step forward. Instead, I leer at her like a creep, eyes consuming her disgruntled face as she twists the combination once more.

Left, right, left.

Finally, she opens it and my chance has been severed. She grabs a surplus amount of supplies and jams them into her faded Harry Potter 'I'm a Slytherin and Proud!' bag. I almost think she catches me staring, but the feeling ebbs.

The final dismissal bell echoes around the building and I curse. Looks like I'm walking home then. It's alright- I probably need the mindless exercise to help me clear my head anyways.

Peridot slams the locker door hard enough to make me jump. She spins on one heel, almost gracefully, and storms away, her shoes squeaking against the tiled floors. Sighing, I wait until the sound of her steps diminish to nothing before emerging from the shadows.

Okay, so it was less emerging and more half-tripping over my own shoes, but emerging sounds cooler so I'm sticking with that.

I head to my locker, opening it with ease and grabbing my bag. My phone buzzes.

Pearl: Hey, Lapis! My debate team meeting was canceled. Would you like to hang out?

I feel a tug in my gut. I really don't want to hang out with anybody, least of all Pearl.

I don't know if I can look into those eyes and tell her that Peridot kissed me. Even worse, I don't know if I can confess that I kind of, maybe, somewhat liked it.

And suddenly, an amendment is added to the original list of things I could discern about the kiss.

1. Peridot's not hurt.

2. The kiss was short.

3. The fault lies with Peridot, not me.

4. I liked it.

God damn it, I liked it.

I wait before replying, staring at my phone screen and wishing that it could decide for me. With impulsive thumbs, I text back an affirmative.

Me: yeah no prob. can u pick me up tho? i missed my bus.

Pearl answers enthusiastically, and we decide to meet in the lunch room.

I trot to the cafeteria, avoiding the eyes of the janitors as I take a seat on top of one of the tables. One of them, a bald guy with sagging eyes and a grimace deeper than a Robert Frost poem, offers me a napkin. I hold the piece of glorified paper in confusion before he gestures to my dirty shoes.

"S-sorry," I stammer, jamming the paper towel underneath my feet. He smiles and wordlessly returns to his job.

"Nasty cut," he mentions.

"I realize," I snap back, stuffing my fists into my jacket pockets.

Shit- just when I was starting to forget about it, too.

Pearl strides in, bag upon her shoulder and a concerned scowl upon her face. I force the pit in my stomach to fade and manage a broad smile lathered with falsely confidence.

"Hi, babe," I greet, drawing her in for a hug. She reminds me of the whiskey dad used to slip me during dinner parties with his friends- warm and numbing. I let my eyes slip shut and hang on to her for a long time. Or maybe it just seems like a long time. I don't know, really.

Time works differently when you're with somebody you love, so maybe it doesn't really matter anyways.

"Hey," The janitor scolds gruffly, "No PDA."

Pearl yelps an apology and pulls away, giving me a chaste kiss. She bites down on her lower lip and chews on a breath mint as she formulates her words.

"I heard what happened in Study Hall," Pearl tells me. "Are you okay?"

I want to grimace, but that would require me to strain the skin on my lip, and that would hurt. Instead, I dig my tongue into the copper-tasting slit and shrug.

"Not bad," I lie. "I see that you didn't beat her up during science, huh?"

Pearl snickers, almost in an impish way, and gives me a meek grin. "Would you have liked me to?"

I don't really think I would get a rise out of Peridot getting the s**t beat out of her by my girlfriend, but for comedic purposes, I nod. "It would've been kinda funny."

Pearl smacks me playfully and leads me out of the building. She doesn't have enough to get herself a car, so she always rides her bike to school.

It's bright yellow, and made to look vintage with big metal wheel covers and a fat seat more befitting of a swivel chair than a bicycle. Pearl told me a while back that she built it from scratch, stealing parts from the tree lawns on garbage day.

"Do you want to hang out at my house?" Pearl offers.

There's not much waiting for me at home (there really never is), so I agree. "Sure."

"Can I ride the pegs?" I ask curiously, because my backpack only feels like it's getting heavier with every step.

Pearl breaks into a smile and nods, getting on, swinging her huge tote between her legs in order for me to board from the back. I quickly balance myself and nudge my backpack between my shoulder blades.

"You on?" She asks.

"Mmhm," I grab her shoulders tightly. They're completely covered by my large hands, an occurrence I'm fond of.

Pearl kicks off, biking down the parking lot and on to the sidewalk, paying no regard to the added weight.

We bike in silence for a while, Pearl swooping down corners at speeds that make me slam my eyes shut. We don't crash, but we slip at a particularly narrow veer left.

"s**t!" I yell, nearly thrown off the steel frame. My pegs wobble. "Don't do that!"

"Can't hear you!" Pearl laughs, making another sharp turn just to spite me. I quiver as my body lurches precariously close to the pavement. My shoes almost fly from their narrow metal footholds, and I'm forced to press my entire body to Pearl's to keep from falling.

"So," Pearl yells over the wind, completely unaware of my discomfort, "did you have any idea about Peridot?"

"W-what?"

"About her feelings for you!" Pearl clarifies. My eyes widen.

Although it's indisputable that she feels for me, Peridot having feelings for me might be a step too far.

And I know what she feels, because I feel it too. It's the perfect mixture of animosity and kinship that only best friends share. She feels for me in the way that an alcoholic feels for his next drink. I'm something she needs and loves being with, and maybe I make her feel better in the midst of a night where everything else sucks, but ultimately, she has no affection for me. There's absolutely, positively nothing between us.

Of that, I'm sure.

"What? No. She doesn't have feelings for me," I assert. We turn into the boardwalk and start down the beach drive where Pearl lives. "She just has something to prove, that's all."

"Right," Pearl quirks a brow. She doesn't sound convinced. "Lapis, she kissed you until you bled."

"I know that!" I insist. "Peridot's a f*****g weirdo. She always has an ulterior motive, you know? One of the seniors remarked that we were like girlfriends, so like, maybe she just wanted to stick it to me?"

Pearl groans, drifting into the driveway and coming to an abrupt halt right before the stairs of her beach house. I hop off the bike, thoroughly jilted. I swear to myself silently that I will never ride Pearl's bike again. Not even if I have to walk three miles in the pouring rain.

"You're being paranoid," she remarks, stuffing the bicycle in the homemade rack made of reinforced PVC pipes besides her house. She chains it up without thought, settling it to rest on the kickstand. She takes my hand in hers and leads me up the stairs of the wooden deck.

I've always loved Pearl's house. It's a little shack secluded from the rest of the city overlooking a private section of the beach. Usually, it's full with Pearl's ragtag family- two sisters of varying age and a little boy, but right now, it's silent.

"Garnet's probably taken Amethyst and Steven to Amethyst's basketball game," Pearl explains. She shrugs, tiptoeing inside despite there being nobody to bother with her presence.

Amethyst is Pearl's un-biological younger sister, and Garnet is her older. They're an unlikely trio of kids, drawn together by a late foster mom and the foster mom's son, who lives with them. I can't help but feel a little spoiled every time I step into their world. Being the only members of their household eligible to hold jobs, both Pearl and Garnet work steady shifts to keep their home together, and as Pearl remarked once, sometimes even Amethyst has to walk some dogs to keep the lights on.

It's startlingly different from my privileged household, where everything can be fixed with a visa card and a clean living room.

It looks like a family lives here, too. It's clean, thanks to Pearl, but it still looks touched in a way. Steven's toys are lain out in oddly fitting locations- on shelves, windowsills, and under the couch. I feel like they're all sharpshooters, aiming their toy guns at me and waiting for the moment I look away. I pick up an action figure from the floor and settle it on the kitchen counter.

Pearl offers me a drink. I accept, even though I know she's making tea and I despise tea. It makes Pearl happy when I drink it with her, and sometimes she even has a flavor I like.

"We have peach; you'll like that, right?" Pearl asks, tilting her head like a puppy hearing the word "walk".

"Only one way to find out," I hum.

Pearl settles our mugs in the microwave and leans back as it whirs. She looks thoughtful, like something's been plaguing her mind.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

Pearl shakes her head, but after a second prompting she opens up. "You don't like her, right, Lapis?"

"Of course I like her- she's my best friend," I say idly, worrying that Pearl can sense my avoidance as the words shake from my mouth. My brows furrow.

"Let me clarify- you don't like her romantically, do you?" Insecurity wells up in her eyes, and guilt plagues me like a weighted vest plagues a sprinter.

"No," I manage, my voice a mixture of disbelief and defensive hurt. It has the slightest undertone of doubt too, but I ignore that. "Never." I'm more firm this time because Pearl still doesn't look like she believes me. "Look, she's my best friend. I spent the night with her after we went to an all-you-can-eat Mexican restaurant," I chuckle a little, "I don't think I can look past that, to be honest."

"Okay," Pearl relents with a snort.

"The grunting, Pearl. The grunting. I still have nightmares," I mock a shiver, and when she smiles, I sort of feel like everything's okay for just a moment.

"And you were totally unaffected and flawless, right?" Pearl snickers.

"Absolutely. What else would you expect?" That's a total lie, by the way. I was even more incapacitated than Peri that night, but spending a total of two hours in the bathroom because you just had to lose your head at Luchita's Authentic Mexican Diner is probably not a very sexy thing for your girlfriend to admit to.

Suddenly, Pearl leans forwards and takes me in a deep kiss, I jolt when instead of her smooth skin, I feel chapped lips. Peridot's lips. I rip back, muscles bunching together with tension. I feel like she does this too often. I feel like I do this too often.

"Again?" Pearl asks, slightly hurt.

"It freaks me out," I confess, my arms curling in on themselves. "'sides, my lip still hurts." It's not a lie- the cut still stings, although admittedly, the pain is waning quickly.

"I understand," Pearl sighs. There's a sharp glint in her eye before she adds, "Although I can't help but notice how quiet the house is for once." A look comes upon her face as if she knows something I don't.

"O-oh?" I ask, wary.

"Amethyst's scheduled for a double-header tonight. Her basketball games go for another two hours... So we'll be alone." Pearl smirks. She runs her fingertips down my arm and chews on her lower lip.

There's this drop in my gut and I get a feeling similar to the flash of panic one receives after realizing that their keys are missing. I stare at Pearl for a long time, eyes drifting down her body and back up again, my feeling of awkwardness amplifying with each passing moment.

Salty ocean waves roll upon the beach and I want nothing more than to get lost in them. The open windows of the beach house mock me.

"Really?" I think my voice is choking up.

"Mmhm," Pearl hums, drifting around the counter to cup my chin.

"R-right. Um," I'm too awkward. s**t.

In an act of impulse, I grab Pearl's hand and squeeze it, tugging her away from the counter and down the hall. I'm too distracted by my own thoughts to remember where Pearl's room is, so I turn into a random door and hope for the best.

"Lapis, this is the closet," Pearl giggles.

"Oh! Right, totally knew that. I just thought we were gonna be kinky sons of bitches today," my laugh trembles. "How about you lead us?"

"Gladly," Pearl smirks, letting go of my hand and dancing to the room at the far end of the hall. Her feet glide against the ground in sweeping, circular motions, guiding my eyes to her long legs and further still. I follow like I'm drunk, taking wobbly, slow steps to follow after her.

Pearl's room is impeccable as I would've figured it would be. Books are tucked away neatly, the bed is made (probably not for long at this rate), and her desk is organized. Posters of famous intellectual leaders are tacked up on the walls around me. I'm not sure whether or not I'm comfortable with the huge image of Albert Einstein's face ogling at us while we mack it out.

I toy with the hem of my shirt, unsure if I should peel it off or keep it on. Unsurprisingly, the collection of p**n I've watched didn't really touch on what I'm supposed to do before the hardcore stuff happens. And if it did, I skipped past it because come on, who wants to spend five minutes watching the s****l buildup instead of five minutes watching the actual s*x?

Pearl decides for me, leading me in for a kiss. She does it slowly, ever so slowly, so that I don't panic again. I stiffen up, and then immediately mentally curse myself for acting like such a f*****g wuss. I wrap my arms around her lower back, pulling her closer. My grip is weak, and tremors take my hands. It's not in my nature to be so reluctant, but for some reason I just want to put this off for as long as possible.

Pearl pulls back, her hot breath against my face. "You're really special, you know that?"

"Uh..."

"Guess I'll have to show you," Pearl says, mockingly exasperated. She sighs dramatically before attaching her lips to my jawline and moving down the road of goosebumps forming on my neck. She bites down and I suck in a sharp breath.

"Pearl, I-" my voice cracks.

"Hm?"

I want to tell her that I don't like this, but the look of insecurity she had back in the kitchen flashes in my mind and I stop myself before I can voice my discomfort. She already feels like I don't want her- if I stopped now, I would only validate those fears. I can't do that. I won't let myself hurt her like that.

"s**t. Lost my train of thought. I was about to say something super sexy, too," I say with a hasty laugh.

Pearl looks like she's about to reply, but I stop her, clicking our teeth together roughly as I bring her into a kiss. She lets out a gasp and digs her fingernails into my coat, whining. It'd be a very nice sound, I decide, would it not lead to the actions to come.

Get it? Come.

Her hands go up my shirt and start to slip the cotton from my body. I shrink in upon myself as I'm revealed, arms interlocking over my chest. I wonder if Pearl thinks I'm ugly.

"You're so gorgeous," She whispers, coaxing my arms away.

I wonder idly if she's telling the truth.

Pearl's nimble fingers navigate to my bra strap, hovering over the clasp. With a quick flick and twist, I'm bare. I feel my chest seize and fight the urge to cross my arms again.

Look, I've never covered myself before, but I figure that if there's any 'right' time to start being shy about myself, doing the dirty deed with my girlfriend would definitely qualify.

I don't say a word as she finishes undressing me, opting instead to jam my nose into the crook of her neck and focus only on the color of her wallpaper. It's pink.

We're awkward at first, because as Super-Ultra-Virgins, neither of us are quite sure what goes in where or on what.

"Um. p**n is a lot different than this," I muse, staring at her. Pearl huffs and nods.

"Duly noted. How about we just play it by ear?" She suggests.

Playing it by ear isn't as easy as one might think, and the act is uncomfortable at first, almost painful. But then we slowly start to get a grip.

Hands get more confident as they go up shirts and down pants, thighs shake, lower lips get abused by teeth, and embarrassing noises catch in throats. We set up a rhythm fairly quickly, and if I let myself focus only on the pure sensation of it all, it almost feels good.

But then it's all over, and I'm lying on disgusting sweat-soaked sheets, gritting my teeth.

The coiling in my gut returns with a vengeance and I start to feel like I'm going to puke. There's no afterglow for me. There's nothing to hang on to except for the cold void in the pit of my stomach and the hitch in my breath as I force it to regulate. Pearl rolls over, swinging a slick arm over my chest. Don't touch me, I think, it's too much.

"G-good?" I ask, despite the nausea.

"Wonderful," Pearl replies, letting her eyes flutter shut. "You?"

"... yeah."

It's quiet for a solid minute as I try to sort out my thoughts. But they're jumbled up like a word search inside my head, and I find that I can't focus on any one thing for longer than a moment.

"The tea's probably cold," I infer suddenly.

"It's fine," Pearl says, stretching. "I'll dump it."

"No, no!" I say quickly. "Don't worry about it. I'll do it. You look spent."

Pearl hesitates for a moment before relenting to my offer with a yawn. "Okay. Don't be long."

She withdraws her arm to let me out and tucks it into her chest, eyelids fluttering shut. She sleeps in a way that makes her look impossibly smalll, fallen in upon herself and limbs drawn together for need of warmth and conservation. Her breathing is steady and shallow.

I tuck her in and slip on my shorts and a shirt, abandoning my bra as I stumble away. I hurry to the kitchen, using the wall to support myself as I walk. My hands sloppily grab the mugs, spilling some tea on my arms.

"s**t," I curse, dumping them into the sink and rinsing them off with water.

I use some napkins to wipe the cold liquid off my arms, and suddenly I'm struck with a horribly tempting idea. My eyes dart to the room and then back to the napkins in my hand. Decidedly, I grab a pen.

Something came up, gotta go. Love you. -Lapis

It's downright shameful walking out like this, but if I stay in this house any longer, I'm going to retch. I almost whisper an "I love you", but that'd make me a hypocrite.

I grab my bag, easing out the door and shuffling to the boardwalk. Eyes follow me as I walk, and some even drift to my chest before ripping away in embarrassment. Peri's right. My t**s are perky.

My hair is disheveled roughly, and my clothes sit crooked on my body. If I'm honest, I'll admit that I probably look like a homeless drug dealer right now.

So this is the dreaded walk of shame. Well, at least it's pretty evident to everyone that I got some.

Finally, I come to the doorstep of my house. I kick open the door, arranging my shoes by the wall neatly and sighing.

"I'm home!" I announce.

There's no reply. I'm not surprised- there hardly ever is.

I can't remember where my parents are this time, but I figure they're on some business trip somewhere. At the end of the day, it really doesn't matter to me, because all I know is that they're away.

I know I should eat since I haven't eaten all day, but I feel too disgusting to eat, so I decide to take a shower first.

I climb the stairs and head into the bathroom, tearing my clothes off and throwing them away from me. I cringe as my bare feet freeze on the porcelain shower floor, and turn the knob quickly to relieve my frigid body. The hot water on my back makes me hiss, but the sting is appreciated.

I wash myself off, scrubbing hard enough to make my skin red and raw. I feel so gross right now- rinsing off body fluids that might not be mine and remembering how they got there in vivid detail. I bite my lip harshly.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Shouldn't teenagers my age like this kind of stuff? I just had s*x, like actual 'jam your fingers up here and lick there' s*x. My stomach shouldn't be roiling like I just ate a bad meal. Maybe it was just a fluke. Maybe I just wasn't ready.

I feel tears prick my eyes. Fluke or not, I can't take it back now. What happened, happened, and my first time feels almost like it was taken from me and stomped on. The water eventually starts running cold, but I can't bring my body to move. I stare at the wall like a disinterested student stares at the blackboard.

I don't let myself cry, because I'm too exhausted to manage a sob, so I just stand there until the feeling passes. It does, after an hour or so, and I get out.

I inspect myself in the mirror, counting the hickeys and bite marks dotting my collar and shoulders. There are a total of six bruises, all ranging in size and shade, but thankfully, Pearl had the discretion to hide them below the collar of a cotton shirt, so I should be able to conceal them without too much difficulty.

But that isn't what's worrying me.

I'm like 90% sure losing your virginity is not supposed to feel like this; unless all those teenage coming-of-age stories lied to me (and if that's the case, American Pie and Superbad are totally leaving my movie shelf forever). I should feel elated and giddy, with a wide smile that passes to the next day. Instead, I'm left with a hollow feeling of revulsion and guilt.

I've come to the point where it doesn't feel like I lost it at all- more so, it feels like I never even had something to lose in the first place, and I'm just starting to realize the absence of that nothingness in my chest.

I tiptoe to my room and dress myself in a loose shirt and basketball shorts, inexplicably drowsy. I flop down on my bed and close my eyes, deciding that a nap would probably help me re-calibrate. Maybe I'll even feel better afterwards. Without getting under the covers, I curl up into a ball and try to imagine that it's just another Monday afternoon.

It almost works.