A Conspicuous Conspiracy (Ch. 13)
Title: A Conspicuous Conspiracy
Author: clanket
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Rating: T
Summary: Callie and Arizona are best friends. As they navigate through their final year of high school, will they realize that they're more than just friends?
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libellous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: Set two days after the bowling alley, during and after the volleyball game discussed back when they were watching Saw II. Sorry for the super long break…again. But hoorah for the insanely long chapter?
A/N II: Dedicated to thesixpeaches and Calzonafan123 for the nudges, as well as roughian who helped me out with some of the quirks of this chapter.
Ch. 13
“Mine!” Arizona yells as the white sphere skims over the top of the net. She lunges forward, propelling herself toward the low-flying ball and bumps it high up and a few feet to her right. A perfect pass; the skill that has rightfully earned her the only white jersey on our team. Before anyone else has a chance to touch the ball, she’s already pushed herself up off the floor, her eyes never having left that target.
“Got it!”
Addison’s under the ball, waiting for it to fall into her awaiting fingertips. Her head is tipped back, hands at her forehead, mouth open as her body works for that much needed oxygen. She volleys the ball over to the far side of the net, setting up our front row hitter Morgan. She and Sarah take two large steps in unison before crouching down low, readying their bodies for that perfect moment when their legs will uncoil and propel them several feet into the air. Sarah goes for the fake while Morgan connects with the ball and the remaining four of us take a step toward them, ready for the ricochet in case of a successful block. Morgan spikes it past the two girls blocking her and down the net where it slams into the ground mere inches in front of one of the other team’s girls.
Yes! We definitely needed that. Down to the last points of the third set, Morgan just earned us our twelfth of the - hopefully - fifteen points we need to win this game. If we earn the victory we’re guaranteed an invite to our division’s finals; a sixteen-team round-robin tournament of the best teams in Washington State.
We all walk over to her for low fives, a team spirit practise we’ve taken part in since trying out for our first teams back in elementary school. Morgan smiles as we congratulate her and leisurely walk back to our positions on the court. May as well use this time for a breather.
I take my place in sixth position at the centre of the court, Arizona’s smiling face right in front of mine as we stand toe-to-toe, waiting on Addie’s serve to be able to switch places. I can’t help but smile back.
“You ready to rock this, Robbins?” I goad.
“Oh, I was born ready, Calliope,” she replies.
The ref blows his whistle and motions for Addie to serve. She dribbles the ball a few times and takes four measured steps backward before taking a deep breath. She spins the ball in her hands then suddenly tosses it high into the air. Two large strides, squats low, her eyes trained on the ball, and explodes up toward it. She makes perfect contact with the white sphere right at her peak and pounds it over the net.
The Aldershot team is playing without a libero, a testament to their relative inexperience, and their teal-clad centre has no idea what’s hit her when the ball drops suddenly and hits the ground right in front of her.
“One, two three, ace!” our team cheers as we go to give Addison low fives.
“Way to go, Addie. Two more of those and we’ve got it locked.”
“Thanks, Callie. No pressure,” she responds while bending down to pick up the ball rolling back toward her.
I walk back to my place and wait for that familiar whistle and Addie’s serving routine.
Arizona and I switch places and watch as the ball seems to float through the air, wobbling to and fro slightly. One of the girls calls the ball as she tries to backpedal fast enough to get to it, all of them having taken a step forward in anticipation of another dumped serve.
The girl gets under it, expecting to bump it up to her setter, but ends up getting hit in the chest when the ball wobbles once more at the last second and falls limply to the floor.
The score is 14-9; we just need one more point and this is ours. I’ve gotta hand it to this team, though, because they’ve improved a lot since our pre-season rally a few months ago.
“We want another one, just like the other one, HUH!” the girls chant from the bench. We really want this guaranteed invite, especially with more than half of our team being made up of seniors. Who wouldn’t want to go out with a bang?
Addie serves up the ball, sending it to the far back corner of the court. Aldershot gets its first hit on the ball, bumping too high over her setter’s head who decides to just give the ball an extra little nudge, barely dumping it over the net. I take two large steps up to get behind Sarah as she tries to block the ball but comes up short; I’m right there to dig it and land hard on my chest, slightly winding myself. I get up as quickly as I can and watch Sarah try to backward volley the ball over the net.
The other team sets up a perfect double block and knocks it directly down our side of the net. Point Aldershot. 14-10.
After a round of low fives, we take our places again and wait for that telling slap of a hand connecting with semi-soft leather.
“Got it!”
Arizona runs to back court and pops the ball up toward the front, the long serve throwing off her aim a little and forcing Addie to give the second touch up to Morgan who tries to give the ball a little extra pep to make it over the net, which it does. Then lands out of bounds.
14-11.
Another swift serve comes flying low and grazes the top of the net, throwing off Sarah and Morgan who were trying to switch places. Sarah stretches to make contact but only brushes the ball as it drops by.
14-12.
I hear a whistle and look over to the ref who signals that Coach Stratton has called our last time out. We only have thirty seconds and rush over to hear what he has to say, the girls on the bench joining us and handing over water bottles as he speaks.
“Alright ladies, I know you’ve played hard these last three sets and I know you’re tired so just breathe. Everyone take a few seconds to relax.”
He looks around the group to each of us, making sure we’re following orders. When he’s satisfied he continues.
“Alright, this girl seems to be all over the place with her serves. Everyone be on your toes and down in the ready position.
“Robbins, I need you to be ready for anything. I want you to be the first touch on this next ball no matter what. Got it?”
Arizona nods once between sips from her water bottle and continues using her jersey to fan herself. Man, she’s hot when she’s a little sweaty. My eyes follow a bead of sweat as it rolls down the side of her face and trails a path across her creamy neck until it’s absorbed into the material of her shirt. If only I could follow that hot path with my tongue while she - oh, Coach is still talking. Damn it.
“Alright, Robbins has the centre and right courts; Callie you’re covering the left corner; Addison, I need you to set something up for me. If you see the block coming, do not tip anything over, they’re expecting that. Try for a back row set instead.
“Sarah and Morgan, you’re doing great. Shake it off and be ready for another dump. Hands in, ‘Titans’ on three - one, two three-”
“Titans!”
The ref blows his whistle, letting us know that our time out is over. As Arizona and I walk back to our spots she warns, “Calliope, she’s gonna serve it far back, be ready.”
When I give her a curious look she explains with a shrug that “she’s inconsistent so she’s gonna try to make up that weak serve with too much power.”
The whistle blows and we watch the same brunette go through her serving routine and I move to take my place when I see that Arizona has called it right and the ball is going to fly right over my head.
“Help!”
And that’s all I need to get into action, knowing that she won’t be able to make it to the ball in time.
“Mine,” I yell as I run to the back of the court, head twisted awkwardly to keep an eye on the ball. “Got it!”
I’m almost in place and watch the globe get bigger and bigger as it comes nearer, tunnel vision taking over my mind knowing that if I screw this up, we’re going to be pushed into an overtime game.
I stop and turn to fully face the ball, taking my position with my knees bent, arms out, thumbs together and ready to absorb the shock.
“Out!”
Arizona’s voice breaks into my concentration and I quickly dodge the ball, hands coming up by my shoulders to make sure the referee sees that I didn’t touch it. The ball goes past me and bounces on the polished hardwood. The gym is silent.
I look down at my feet and see that I’m still about three feet from the back line. That ball could have landed in play.
I look up to Arizona who seems nervous that she might’ve made the wrong call. I shift my gaze to Coach Stratton; he’s hugging his clipboard tight and is chewing on his thumbnail over top of it, waiting for the decision. Finally, I look to the appointed linesman standing behind me. He looks back at me and smirks. After a few tense seconds, he bends both arms at the elbow, his hands coming to a stop by his shoulders and facing in toward himself. Out. We’re safe. We’re safe? Oh, good - yay - we’re safe!
“It’s out!” I scream in disbelief and run to Arizona along with the rest of the team.
I wrap her up in a big hug and place a loud kiss on her cheek, laughing along with her giggles. “I knew there was a reason we kept you around, Robbins,” I joke.
As our elated laughter dies down we all huddle together and place our hands in the centre for our cheer.
“Bump, set, spike we do it all, the only sport is volleyball,” we chant quietly. Then again with more force. “Bump, set, spike we do it all, the only sport is volleyball.” Finally, we scream it. “Bump, set, spike we do it all, the only sport is volleyball! One, two, three - Titans!”
“Alright ladies, line up,” Coach tells us. We file into a line and make our way to the centre of the net to shake the other teams’ hands.
“Hey, way to go on that call, Arizona. You had me doubting you there for a second,” I tease as we wait for the Aldershot girls to wrap up their huddle.
“Oh, please, Calliope, like I’d ever let you down,” she says with a smirk.
I lean forward and wrap my arms around her shoulders from behind, loosely hugging her. “And that’s why I love you,” I tell her with a smile. She returns the gesture and leans back into me, her hands coming up to run across my arms.
I hold onto her until the other team makes a line on their side of the net, ready to shake hands. I tell each one ‘good game’ as they walk by, each interaction lasting only a second or two, until one of Aldershot’s girls stops short when she reaches Arizona.
“Hey, you were really good out there. Got any pointers?” she asks as she continues to hold onto Arizona’s hand. Why is she still touching her? She needs to drop that hand right now or I swear I’ll - she’s giggling? Why is Arizona flirting with this bimbo? They just lost and this chick, number 22, didn’t even play five minutes! She’s gonna need a lot more than a few pointers.
“Thanks, I just try to do my best,” Arizona answers with her head tilted down shyly, looking at 22 through her eyelashes. Stupid sexy lashes - and stupid sexy flush, too. This girl really needs to back off.
“Hey, you’re holdin’ up the line,” I interrupt and raise a slightly menacing eyebrow at the girl. I glance over to Arizona and she’s looking back at me with her brow furrowed like she’s trying to figure out what I just said.
Crap, that was too obvious.
I lower my eyebrow and look at her sheepishly but at least my comment made 22 release Arizona’s hand. Bitch.
When the line starts moving again I plaster a pleasant smile on my face to greet the rest of the Aldershot girls and then their coaches. One of them stops me.
“You know, if you keep playing like that you’re gonna have a pretty good chance of playing in college. Have you decided on a school?”
I smile genuinely at her and release her hand - see, normal handshake!
“I’ve looked into a couple of colleges but I’m trying to focus on the academics of each school as opposed to their sports programs. That would just be an added bonus,” I answer honestly.
I glance off to the side and notice that number 22 has crossed over to our side and is talking to Arizona, but not just talking: she’s standing too close for it to be friendly and now - oh, nice! Now she’s putting her hand on Arizona's arm as my best friend throws her head back in laughter.
“Well, I hope that works out for you.”
“Uh, yeah, thanks,” I answer the coach distractedly and walk off in Arizona’s direction.
When I get to the duo, Arizona’s still laughing and is bent back at the waist in her mirth with one hand on her chest. Her cheeks still have that sexy flush from running around on the court and I know that 22 notices because her eyes drift around Arizona’s face as she’s laughing, taking in each of her features. Stupid sexy flush.
“Hey guys,” I say as amicably as I can muster.
“Oh, Calliope, hi,” she says as her giggles die down. “Calliope, this is Jocelyn. Jocelyn, this is Callie,” she introduces us as she places a friendly hand lightly between my shoulder blades.
I nod once in acknowledgement and give a tight smile, making sure I keep close to my best friend’s side.
“Hi, Callie, it’s nice to meet you,” 22 says a little too nicely. Well, too nicely for how much I don’t want to like her right now.
“Yeah, you too.” I turn to Arizona then continue, “Hey, Coach is gonna want to do the breakdown. You coming or what?”
She just gives me this perplexed look, her smile faltering just a little. She shakes her head slightly before replying. “Uh, yeah, I’ll be right there,” then turns back to Jocelyn. Stupid, funny, blue-eyed Jocelyn.
I trudge away to join another group of girls from our team that happen to be pretty close to the flirting duo. It’s not my fault they’re so loud that I can hear their conversation all the way from here, five feet away...
“Wow, she does not like me very much.”
“Yeah, she’s not usually so…frowny. I’ll have to ask her what's up.”
“Frowny?” Then they laugh before dear Jocelyn does what she’s wanted to do all game, no doubt. “So, listen, I don’t have my phone on me but I was wondering if you’d wanna hang out some time? Go for coffee maybe?”
Great. Just super. Now I have to listen to them flirt. Why did I stay so close again?
“Yeah, that’d be great. I’m free after school on Friday?” Arizona asks shyly.
“Sounds great,” dear ol’ Joss flirts back. “I’ll add you on Facebook and get your number from there, Arizona Robbins.”
I turn my head to watch the girl leave and see her gently run her fingers down Arizona’s arm and timidly lace their fingers together momentarily as she steps back toward her team. I quickly turn back around and pretend to pay attention to the girls around me, trying to pick up at least a little bit of the conversation so I don’t look too out of place. Something about how Usher and Pitbull’s styles really match each other and they should do a duet?
I feel a pair of hands rest on my hips then slowly move up to my waist and back down in a kind of soothing motion. Then Arizona’s face is right next to mine, her chin resting on my shoulder as her arms wrap around my middle loosely, hands coming together at my lower abdomen.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asks quietly so that no one else hears.
“Fine,” I tell her and cross my arms across my chest. As I tense Arizona winds her arms around my waist so that she’s wrapped around me.
“I’ll let it go for now but I wanna know what’s bothering you later,” she says then lapses into silence. I feel her lightly nuzzling my shoulder and neck, arms squeezing me tighter. “I have a date on Friday,” she tells me and I can hear the smile in her voice. She pulls her head back a bit and continues, “Well, I think it’s a date. I’m not exactly sure but I’m pretty sure she just asked me out.”
I give a hard exhale and pull her arms off of me.
“That’s great, Arizona,” I toss over my shoulder as I walk toward Coach Stratton. He’s done talking with the other coaches so we should be having our post-game breakdown any second.
“Alright, girls, bring it in.”
I stop in front of Coach, waiting for the rest of the team to get to the huddle. Arizona has taken a couple of quick strides to me and grabs my arm to get my attention. I raise my eyebrows and widen my eyes at her in a ‘what do you want?’ gesture and she looks at me pissed off and confused, one hand motioning back to where we just were in a silent question of her own: what is wrong with you?
Luckily I’m saved from having to answer for my actions when Coach Stratton starts talking.
After going over what we did well and what we need to improve on, he gives us a reprieve from morning practice for coming together as a team during those last few serves and tells us to go get changed and meet back on the bus out front.
I turn toward the doors so that I can make my escape but quick little libero Arizona is right there and grabs me by the elbow.
“Callie, what the hell is going on with you?” she whispers harshly.
“Nothing, it’s fine. Just drop it,” I tell her and wrench my arm free of her grip. I keep my feet moving and pass through the gym’s entrance, moving across the hall to the door of the boys’ change room, the one Aldershot has designated for use by the visiting team.
I stalk over to the benches on the far wall where I left my gym bag and coat before the game and start pulling out my track pants and a clean shirt to change into. As I’m staring down at my bag, almost violently pulling items from it, I notice Arizona arriving at her own belongings right next to me. I can’t help but curse myself for being so close to her right now. Why are we always so damn near each other?
“Calliope, what is going on with you? One second you’re hugging me and we’re shaking hands and the next you’re being a jerk to Jocelyn and-”
I give a snort at her name, still making sure to keep my eyes down. I notice her stop her own changing routine to look at me. She turns her body and squares her shoulders.
“What, so this is about her? What did she ever do to you?”
I finally look up, having grabbed everything I need to change out of my bag and set it on the bench next to it. I stare into those blue eyes, my own probably looking pretty cold.
“Nothing. She didn’t do anything to me. Happy?” With that I turn back to the wall and pull my jersey over my head only to replace it with another Titans t-shirt.
Arizona’s crossed arms come out to her sides as she continues to whisper-yell at me. “Yeah, Calliope, ecstatic,” she snarls in my ear. “I just love that my best friend is being a jerk to me for no reason and doesn’t even have the decency to tell me why she thinks it’s justified. Just love it.” She finally turns away from me to change into her own street clothes.
I yank off my shoes and knee pads before doing the same to my shorts and grabbing my folded pants from the bench.
“Yeah, well you know what? I wasn’t exactly ‘ecstatic’ to see you practically coming all over yourself in there over how funny Jocelyn is,” I say mocking her name. “God, why don’t you just let her grope you on the court next time, save some time?”
With those parting words I grab my coat and bag and head for the door, rubbing my temples and sending a less than friendly look toward Addison on my way out. Luckily most of the team just threw their jackets on and made their way to the bus, sparing us from having an audience.
I hear a door open harshly behind me and footsteps quickening.
“You did not just say that to me,” Arizona growls under her breath when she catches up and blocks my path. She stops and eyes me dangerously. I look away for a moment to see the last of the team pass us on their way to the front of the building. I furrow my eyebrows suddenly. Did I forget something?
I lift a foot to feel my calf for my knee pads and find nothing but pants. I pull my bag forward from where it’s hanging on my shoulder to check the side pockets.
“Crap, I left my pads in there,” I mumble and turn to go back into the change room I’d just escaped. Arizona is right on my heels. Apparently she’s not going to let me out of her sight until she’s said what she wants.
As soon as we’re through the door Arizona rounds on me.
“What the hell is wrong with you today? It’s one thing for you to be kinda moody and lash out at Jocelyn or even me, but this? No, this is not okay,” she declares and crosses her arms across her chest. She’s taking a stand and literally blocking my exit.
I make quick work of the knee pads I’d left sitting on the bench and zip up their designated pocket.
“Whatever, maybe I am just moody,” I say.
“No, I know you and I know your brand of moody and this isn’t that. You’re acting like some jealous girlfriend or something. Why are you being like this?” she pushes.
“Because maybe I want to be!” I yell at her in frustration.
“What? Want to be what?” I can see her eyes moving back and forth, her mouth parted slightly as she works through what I could mean. When she comes to a conclusion, her eyebrows furrow deeply as if she can’t make sense of what her brain is telling her.
“What, you want to be my jealous girlfriend?” she asks like it’s not even in the realm of possibilities.
I look around awkwardly for a moment before dropping my head and running a hand over my face. When I lift my head I really don’t know what to say. The hand that’s not gripping the strap to my gym bag comes out in front of me. When I can’t come up with words that hand drops, smacking against my thigh. The sound echoes in the empty room.
“What are you saying, Callie?” she asks sharply, her tone more harsh than I can ever remember it being.
“I don’t know! I don’t know, okay? All I know is that I didn’t like her hands on you and I don’t want you to go out for coffee with her on Friday!”
Arizona keeps eyeing me, trying to find any reason to think I’m messing with her.
“No! No, Callie, you don’t get to pretend to like me like me when I finally get a date after months of being single. You don’t get to tell me this when just this past weekend you told me I should get a girlfriend to release my hormones with!
“And you’re straight! What about Jackson?”
“I broke up with Jackson!” I yell, finally finding my voice again and she looks genuinely shocked.
“And that hormone thing? That was before - before the bowling alley and before the food sharing and the handholding! It was before!”
“I need you to tell me-”
“Guys!”
Arizona and I turn to the new voice. Addison’s head is sticking through the door, looking at us like we’re crazy. “I can hear you half way down the hall. Everyone’s waiting for you two, let’s go.”
We make our way out to the bus in silence. I keep stealing glances at Arizona but aside from looking deep in thought I really can’t tell how she’s feeling.
Once on the bus, I apologise to our coaches for holding us up and explain that I forgot my gear. Arizona walks ahead of me and takes one step past the first empty bench so I take my usual spot at the window, dumping my bag at my feet, and hope she’ll still sit next to me.
And she does. And I smile a bit at that because if Arizona is anything, she’s loyal and of all the people in the world that she might run from, I know that I'm not one of them.
The girls around us make idle chit-chat, most of them pretty tired from the long day and a hard-earned victory. Arizona and I remain quiet; this is hardly the place to continue that little discussion, if it could be called that, so I lay my head back against the seat and try to sleep away the ride.
A little while later, I wake up from what feels like a bright light. When I blink my eyes open it’s actually dark around us and Addie is kneeling on the bench in front of us, smiling at me.
“Hey, sleepyheads. We’re here.”
I look to my right to find Arizona still asleep on my shoulder, her arm wrapped around mine as my palm rests on her thigh. At least she’s not holding any subconscious grudges against me, right?
I shrug my shoulder a little wake her up and couple it with a squeeze from my hand when she keeps sleeping. She tiredly opens her eyes, rubs at them, then stretches before settling back into her seat.
Her pale hands grip my arm tightly, her chin resting on my shoulder, blue eyes on my face. I turn to her again and watch as she lowers her lips to leave a light kiss where her chin had just been. I reward her with a small but genuine smile and return the kiss on her forehead; we’re not exactly ready to apologize just yet but we both said some harsh things and leaving it like that just isn’t okay.
Arizona leans forward slightly to look out the window.
“Where are we?” she asks, trying to make out the landmarks in her sleepy haze.
“Close. Just a few more minutes,” I tell her.
We finally pull into the school parking lot and say goodbye to our team members then make our way to my car in silence. I throw my bag into the trunk before hopping in and turning the machine on while Arizona gets herself comfortable with her gym bag at her feet. The easy atmosphere from the bus has left us and in its stead there’s an awkward silence that fills the car. Luckily the ride home is short. When I ask her if she’s staying over, hoping we can have a real conversation, as I'm turning onto our street, she declines.
“It’s family night,” she grouses. “You know how they are.” And the entire time she keeps her eyes on her fidgeting fingers.
So I keep going, passing my house, and turn off the street a couple minutes later to get to her family’s home.
“Thanks for the ride,” she says and makes her way up to the front door. I stay there and watch her until she’s inside then pull a u-turn to get back to my place. My empty house, with no one in it except maybe Aria and even if she’s there, she’ll just be holed up in her room on the phone.
I drop my gym bag at the foot of the stairs. There’s no point in taking my sweaty clothes upstairs when the laundry room is down here.
In the kitchen I open the fridge to find a container with my name on it. I grab it and pull the lid off to see what kind of leftovers mom left me. Pork chops and rice with a side of asparagus. Even reheated it’s better than having to nuke a TV dinner.
I throw the meal into the microwave and hit the auto reheat button and make my way to the couch to watch TV. I haven’t even had the chance to settle on a show before the appliance beeps to let me know that my food is ready.
As I eat, I stare ahead blankly, my mind too busy contemplating how my outburst will affect my friendship with Arizona. Are we still gonna be friends after this? What if she thinks I’ve been intentionally lying to her, keeping her in the dark about my feelings and Jackson? Oh my God. I sit up straight, dropping my fork to the plate with a loud clatter.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! What if she likes me back? What if she actually wants to do something about this; give it a try? I’ve never been with a girl! Who pays on the date? Do I open doors for her if I ask her out? What if I don’t like the local cuisine south of the Mason-Dixon? I’ve never even been to the northern mountains! Oh, God!
Okay, I’m freaking out. Breathe, Callie, just breathe. Alright, shower first; freak-out later. That’ll calm me down anyway, right?
I make my way up the stairs to my bathroom and take a long shower, flexing every muscle then relaxing it to rid my body of the tension. The little scalp massage I give myself as I wash my hair doesn’t hurt, either.
After I rinse and relax under the hot spray for a while I get out and dry off, leaving my hair damp to do its thing. I change into my most comfortable cotton pyjama bottoms and a thermal tee before making my way back down to the living room to enjoy the big screen TV down there before bed.
I make myself comfortable by lying down on the plush couch, practically melting into the thing in my exhaustion. The satellite channel plays some reruns of Who’s the Boss? before I change the channel when Golden Girls follows it, feeling in the mood for something from this millennium for a change. I quickly renege that thought, though, when the retro cartoon channel I flip over is playing Bugs Bunny repeats. After what feels like an eternity in my head, I hear the front door open and close quietly. I glance at the clock and note that it’s past 10:30. Concluding that it’s just Aria getting home, I make no move to get off the couch.
The quiet footfalls pad along the cold stone tiles, coming closer to the living room. When a head of blonde hair peeks in in silence, I quickly sit upright.
“Arizona?”
She steps fully into the living room, her feet sinking into the plush carpet as she holds up one finger indicating for me to stay quiet. I nod slightly.
“You really broke up with Jackson?”
I nod and start to explain myself but am shushed once more.
“Maybe I was a little harsh in the change room today but you weren’t exactly a delight, either.”
She pauses expectantly and I acknowledge this; if this is all I’m getting for what I said then she’s letting me off easy.
“I’m not saying it’s not okay to have a girl-crush - I mean, hello! - but-but I just need some time and space to be shocked!”
“What, you didn’t expect some understanding when you told me?” I ask with a scoff.
“I never had boyfriends!” she exclaims then looks around sheepishly, waiting for someone to come and tell us to be quiet.
“I never brought home a boy or talked about boys or whether J.T.T. or Nick Carter was hotter because, for my money, it would always be Topanga! And I'm pretty sure that 13-year-old me didn’t do too great a job at hiding how I looked at the other girls in gym class!”
I can’t help but laugh a little at that, remembering how her eyes would awkwardly linger on the girls that began developing early on.
“But you? You’re changing the game. I’ve known you for 15 years and now, I-I-I don’t know, now you have this entire other side that I don’t know what to make of!”
With that she straightens her back in resolve.
“And then what you said about me and Jocelyn?”
I can't help the eye roll at the mention of her name.
“See - that! That right there!” she says and points at me. “That’s what I’m talking about: you’ve never had an issue with my girlfriends or the girls I flirt with before. I mean, how long has this even been going on?”
Was that rhetorical or my cue to start talking? I keep staring at her, afraid to make the wrong choice. After a few seconds she turns her back and starts back toward the door.
“Arizona, stop! We don’t do this,” I say and gesture between us. I'm standing in front of the couch, waiting for her to turn around but she doesn’t.
“We don’t do this. We don’t yell obscenities at each other then walk away without talking about it. Hell, we don’t really yell obscenities at each other at all! So - no. You’re not going to walk in here and yell at me and tell me how I'm different and then leave.”
I watch as Arizona finally turns to look at me.
“So put down your stuff and come sit down. If you don’t want to talk, if you just want to be shocked, then that’s fine. But I’m not letting you walk out of here like this.”
I know my eyes are burning but that’s just what she does to me; there’s a passion that’s been there since I’ve known her. I guess it’s just taken this long for it to grow to the point it has. Arizona stares right back at me and limply drops her purse to the ground in defeat before carefully padding over to me, dropping her forehead to my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her waist and keep them there for a couple minutes, just letting us take a breather. After that I bring my hands to the front of her peacoat and undo the buttons, smiling at her when she pulls her head back.
When I’ve pushed the coat off her shoulders, I drop it onto the arm of the couch I was just laying on and take her hand before sitting down.
“Sooo, talking or being shocked?” I ask tentatively. Arizona just shakes her head then leans into me. I take that as a cue to lay back, pulling her next to me so that she’s half resting on the cushions and half draped over me with her head on my shoulder.
We watch cartoon reruns until she falls asleep at which point I lower the volume and run my fingertips up and down her back. It feels nice to have her arm around my middle instead of just pushed between us. At that thought I run my other hand lightly up and down that draped arm, wishing I could somehow hold her hand but the position we’re in would make that too awkward.
As the current episode comes to a close the front door opens once more and, for the second time tonight, I hear footsteps coming my way. A moment later Aria is standing in front of me with a full-blown smirk on her face. She crosses her arms authoritatively and raises a mocking brow at me.
“So are you two together yet or what?”
I scoff for the thousandth time today. “Oh, God, you too?”
“I’m not blind, Callie,” she retorts then nods toward the blonde in my arms. “So?”
“No, and I don’t think we will be,” I answer honestly.
Aria looks put off by this then shrugs. “It’s just a matter of time. Good night, sis.”
“G’night, Aria. Hey, where are mom and dad?”
She turns back around, one foot already on the bottom stair. “Some function at a hotel downtown. Mom said they’d be back late if at all.”
“So that’s why you missed curfew?” I tease.
She smiles back. “Nope, I was here at nine o’clock, you saw me.”
“Good night,” I call again and settle in as I listen to her climb the stairs.
Author: clanket
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Rating: T
Summary: Callie and Arizona are best friends. As they navigate through their final year of high school, will they realize that they're more than just friends?
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libellous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: Set two days after the bowling alley, during and after the volleyball game discussed back when they were watching Saw II. Sorry for the super long break…again. But hoorah for the insanely long chapter?
A/N II: Dedicated to thesixpeaches and Calzonafan123 for the nudges, as well as roughian who helped me out with some of the quirks of this chapter.
Ch. 13
“Mine!” Arizona yells as the white sphere skims over the top of the net. She lunges forward, propelling herself toward the low-flying ball and bumps it high up and a few feet to her right. A perfect pass; the skill that has rightfully earned her the only white jersey on our team. Before anyone else has a chance to touch the ball, she’s already pushed herself up off the floor, her eyes never having left that target.
“Got it!”
Addison’s under the ball, waiting for it to fall into her awaiting fingertips. Her head is tipped back, hands at her forehead, mouth open as her body works for that much needed oxygen. She volleys the ball over to the far side of the net, setting up our front row hitter Morgan. She and Sarah take two large steps in unison before crouching down low, readying their bodies for that perfect moment when their legs will uncoil and propel them several feet into the air. Sarah goes for the fake while Morgan connects with the ball and the remaining four of us take a step toward them, ready for the ricochet in case of a successful block. Morgan spikes it past the two girls blocking her and down the net where it slams into the ground mere inches in front of one of the other team’s girls.
Yes! We definitely needed that. Down to the last points of the third set, Morgan just earned us our twelfth of the - hopefully - fifteen points we need to win this game. If we earn the victory we’re guaranteed an invite to our division’s finals; a sixteen-team round-robin tournament of the best teams in Washington State.
We all walk over to her for low fives, a team spirit practise we’ve taken part in since trying out for our first teams back in elementary school. Morgan smiles as we congratulate her and leisurely walk back to our positions on the court. May as well use this time for a breather.
I take my place in sixth position at the centre of the court, Arizona’s smiling face right in front of mine as we stand toe-to-toe, waiting on Addie’s serve to be able to switch places. I can’t help but smile back.
“You ready to rock this, Robbins?” I goad.
“Oh, I was born ready, Calliope,” she replies.
The ref blows his whistle and motions for Addie to serve. She dribbles the ball a few times and takes four measured steps backward before taking a deep breath. She spins the ball in her hands then suddenly tosses it high into the air. Two large strides, squats low, her eyes trained on the ball, and explodes up toward it. She makes perfect contact with the white sphere right at her peak and pounds it over the net.
The Aldershot team is playing without a libero, a testament to their relative inexperience, and their teal-clad centre has no idea what’s hit her when the ball drops suddenly and hits the ground right in front of her.
“One, two three, ace!” our team cheers as we go to give Addison low fives.
“Way to go, Addie. Two more of those and we’ve got it locked.”
“Thanks, Callie. No pressure,” she responds while bending down to pick up the ball rolling back toward her.
I walk back to my place and wait for that familiar whistle and Addie’s serving routine.
Arizona and I switch places and watch as the ball seems to float through the air, wobbling to and fro slightly. One of the girls calls the ball as she tries to backpedal fast enough to get to it, all of them having taken a step forward in anticipation of another dumped serve.
The girl gets under it, expecting to bump it up to her setter, but ends up getting hit in the chest when the ball wobbles once more at the last second and falls limply to the floor.
The score is 14-9; we just need one more point and this is ours. I’ve gotta hand it to this team, though, because they’ve improved a lot since our pre-season rally a few months ago.
“We want another one, just like the other one, HUH!” the girls chant from the bench. We really want this guaranteed invite, especially with more than half of our team being made up of seniors. Who wouldn’t want to go out with a bang?
Addie serves up the ball, sending it to the far back corner of the court. Aldershot gets its first hit on the ball, bumping too high over her setter’s head who decides to just give the ball an extra little nudge, barely dumping it over the net. I take two large steps up to get behind Sarah as she tries to block the ball but comes up short; I’m right there to dig it and land hard on my chest, slightly winding myself. I get up as quickly as I can and watch Sarah try to backward volley the ball over the net.
The other team sets up a perfect double block and knocks it directly down our side of the net. Point Aldershot. 14-10.
After a round of low fives, we take our places again and wait for that telling slap of a hand connecting with semi-soft leather.
“Got it!”
Arizona runs to back court and pops the ball up toward the front, the long serve throwing off her aim a little and forcing Addie to give the second touch up to Morgan who tries to give the ball a little extra pep to make it over the net, which it does. Then lands out of bounds.
14-11.
Another swift serve comes flying low and grazes the top of the net, throwing off Sarah and Morgan who were trying to switch places. Sarah stretches to make contact but only brushes the ball as it drops by.
14-12.
I hear a whistle and look over to the ref who signals that Coach Stratton has called our last time out. We only have thirty seconds and rush over to hear what he has to say, the girls on the bench joining us and handing over water bottles as he speaks.
“Alright ladies, I know you’ve played hard these last three sets and I know you’re tired so just breathe. Everyone take a few seconds to relax.”
He looks around the group to each of us, making sure we’re following orders. When he’s satisfied he continues.
“Alright, this girl seems to be all over the place with her serves. Everyone be on your toes and down in the ready position.
“Robbins, I need you to be ready for anything. I want you to be the first touch on this next ball no matter what. Got it?”
Arizona nods once between sips from her water bottle and continues using her jersey to fan herself. Man, she’s hot when she’s a little sweaty. My eyes follow a bead of sweat as it rolls down the side of her face and trails a path across her creamy neck until it’s absorbed into the material of her shirt. If only I could follow that hot path with my tongue while she - oh, Coach is still talking. Damn it.
“Alright, Robbins has the centre and right courts; Callie you’re covering the left corner; Addison, I need you to set something up for me. If you see the block coming, do not tip anything over, they’re expecting that. Try for a back row set instead.
“Sarah and Morgan, you’re doing great. Shake it off and be ready for another dump. Hands in, ‘Titans’ on three - one, two three-”
“Titans!”
The ref blows his whistle, letting us know that our time out is over. As Arizona and I walk back to our spots she warns, “Calliope, she’s gonna serve it far back, be ready.”
When I give her a curious look she explains with a shrug that “she’s inconsistent so she’s gonna try to make up that weak serve with too much power.”
The whistle blows and we watch the same brunette go through her serving routine and I move to take my place when I see that Arizona has called it right and the ball is going to fly right over my head.
“Help!”
And that’s all I need to get into action, knowing that she won’t be able to make it to the ball in time.
“Mine,” I yell as I run to the back of the court, head twisted awkwardly to keep an eye on the ball. “Got it!”
I’m almost in place and watch the globe get bigger and bigger as it comes nearer, tunnel vision taking over my mind knowing that if I screw this up, we’re going to be pushed into an overtime game.
I stop and turn to fully face the ball, taking my position with my knees bent, arms out, thumbs together and ready to absorb the shock.
“Out!”
Arizona’s voice breaks into my concentration and I quickly dodge the ball, hands coming up by my shoulders to make sure the referee sees that I didn’t touch it. The ball goes past me and bounces on the polished hardwood. The gym is silent.
I look down at my feet and see that I’m still about three feet from the back line. That ball could have landed in play.
I look up to Arizona who seems nervous that she might’ve made the wrong call. I shift my gaze to Coach Stratton; he’s hugging his clipboard tight and is chewing on his thumbnail over top of it, waiting for the decision. Finally, I look to the appointed linesman standing behind me. He looks back at me and smirks. After a few tense seconds, he bends both arms at the elbow, his hands coming to a stop by his shoulders and facing in toward himself. Out. We’re safe. We’re safe? Oh, good - yay - we’re safe!
“It’s out!” I scream in disbelief and run to Arizona along with the rest of the team.
I wrap her up in a big hug and place a loud kiss on her cheek, laughing along with her giggles. “I knew there was a reason we kept you around, Robbins,” I joke.
As our elated laughter dies down we all huddle together and place our hands in the centre for our cheer.
“Bump, set, spike we do it all, the only sport is volleyball,” we chant quietly. Then again with more force. “Bump, set, spike we do it all, the only sport is volleyball.” Finally, we scream it. “Bump, set, spike we do it all, the only sport is volleyball! One, two, three - Titans!”
“Alright ladies, line up,” Coach tells us. We file into a line and make our way to the centre of the net to shake the other teams’ hands.
“Hey, way to go on that call, Arizona. You had me doubting you there for a second,” I tease as we wait for the Aldershot girls to wrap up their huddle.
“Oh, please, Calliope, like I’d ever let you down,” she says with a smirk.
I lean forward and wrap my arms around her shoulders from behind, loosely hugging her. “And that’s why I love you,” I tell her with a smile. She returns the gesture and leans back into me, her hands coming up to run across my arms.
I hold onto her until the other team makes a line on their side of the net, ready to shake hands. I tell each one ‘good game’ as they walk by, each interaction lasting only a second or two, until one of Aldershot’s girls stops short when she reaches Arizona.
“Hey, you were really good out there. Got any pointers?” she asks as she continues to hold onto Arizona’s hand. Why is she still touching her? She needs to drop that hand right now or I swear I’ll - she’s giggling? Why is Arizona flirting with this bimbo? They just lost and this chick, number 22, didn’t even play five minutes! She’s gonna need a lot more than a few pointers.
“Thanks, I just try to do my best,” Arizona answers with her head tilted down shyly, looking at 22 through her eyelashes. Stupid sexy lashes - and stupid sexy flush, too. This girl really needs to back off.
“Hey, you’re holdin’ up the line,” I interrupt and raise a slightly menacing eyebrow at the girl. I glance over to Arizona and she’s looking back at me with her brow furrowed like she’s trying to figure out what I just said.
Crap, that was too obvious.
I lower my eyebrow and look at her sheepishly but at least my comment made 22 release Arizona’s hand. Bitch.
When the line starts moving again I plaster a pleasant smile on my face to greet the rest of the Aldershot girls and then their coaches. One of them stops me.
“You know, if you keep playing like that you’re gonna have a pretty good chance of playing in college. Have you decided on a school?”
I smile genuinely at her and release her hand - see, normal handshake!
“I’ve looked into a couple of colleges but I’m trying to focus on the academics of each school as opposed to their sports programs. That would just be an added bonus,” I answer honestly.
I glance off to the side and notice that number 22 has crossed over to our side and is talking to Arizona, but not just talking: she’s standing too close for it to be friendly and now - oh, nice! Now she’s putting her hand on Arizona's arm as my best friend throws her head back in laughter.
“Well, I hope that works out for you.”
“Uh, yeah, thanks,” I answer the coach distractedly and walk off in Arizona’s direction.
When I get to the duo, Arizona’s still laughing and is bent back at the waist in her mirth with one hand on her chest. Her cheeks still have that sexy flush from running around on the court and I know that 22 notices because her eyes drift around Arizona’s face as she’s laughing, taking in each of her features. Stupid sexy flush.
“Hey guys,” I say as amicably as I can muster.
“Oh, Calliope, hi,” she says as her giggles die down. “Calliope, this is Jocelyn. Jocelyn, this is Callie,” she introduces us as she places a friendly hand lightly between my shoulder blades.
I nod once in acknowledgement and give a tight smile, making sure I keep close to my best friend’s side.
“Hi, Callie, it’s nice to meet you,” 22 says a little too nicely. Well, too nicely for how much I don’t want to like her right now.
“Yeah, you too.” I turn to Arizona then continue, “Hey, Coach is gonna want to do the breakdown. You coming or what?”
She just gives me this perplexed look, her smile faltering just a little. She shakes her head slightly before replying. “Uh, yeah, I’ll be right there,” then turns back to Jocelyn. Stupid, funny, blue-eyed Jocelyn.
I trudge away to join another group of girls from our team that happen to be pretty close to the flirting duo. It’s not my fault they’re so loud that I can hear their conversation all the way from here, five feet away...
“Wow, she does not like me very much.”
“Yeah, she’s not usually so…frowny. I’ll have to ask her what's up.”
“Frowny?” Then they laugh before dear Jocelyn does what she’s wanted to do all game, no doubt. “So, listen, I don’t have my phone on me but I was wondering if you’d wanna hang out some time? Go for coffee maybe?”
Great. Just super. Now I have to listen to them flirt. Why did I stay so close again?
“Yeah, that’d be great. I’m free after school on Friday?” Arizona asks shyly.
“Sounds great,” dear ol’ Joss flirts back. “I’ll add you on Facebook and get your number from there, Arizona Robbins.”
I turn my head to watch the girl leave and see her gently run her fingers down Arizona’s arm and timidly lace their fingers together momentarily as she steps back toward her team. I quickly turn back around and pretend to pay attention to the girls around me, trying to pick up at least a little bit of the conversation so I don’t look too out of place. Something about how Usher and Pitbull’s styles really match each other and they should do a duet?
I feel a pair of hands rest on my hips then slowly move up to my waist and back down in a kind of soothing motion. Then Arizona’s face is right next to mine, her chin resting on my shoulder as her arms wrap around my middle loosely, hands coming together at my lower abdomen.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asks quietly so that no one else hears.
“Fine,” I tell her and cross my arms across my chest. As I tense Arizona winds her arms around my waist so that she’s wrapped around me.
“I’ll let it go for now but I wanna know what’s bothering you later,” she says then lapses into silence. I feel her lightly nuzzling my shoulder and neck, arms squeezing me tighter. “I have a date on Friday,” she tells me and I can hear the smile in her voice. She pulls her head back a bit and continues, “Well, I think it’s a date. I’m not exactly sure but I’m pretty sure she just asked me out.”
I give a hard exhale and pull her arms off of me.
“That’s great, Arizona,” I toss over my shoulder as I walk toward Coach Stratton. He’s done talking with the other coaches so we should be having our post-game breakdown any second.
“Alright, girls, bring it in.”
I stop in front of Coach, waiting for the rest of the team to get to the huddle. Arizona has taken a couple of quick strides to me and grabs my arm to get my attention. I raise my eyebrows and widen my eyes at her in a ‘what do you want?’ gesture and she looks at me pissed off and confused, one hand motioning back to where we just were in a silent question of her own: what is wrong with you?
Luckily I’m saved from having to answer for my actions when Coach Stratton starts talking.
After going over what we did well and what we need to improve on, he gives us a reprieve from morning practice for coming together as a team during those last few serves and tells us to go get changed and meet back on the bus out front.
I turn toward the doors so that I can make my escape but quick little libero Arizona is right there and grabs me by the elbow.
“Callie, what the hell is going on with you?” she whispers harshly.
“Nothing, it’s fine. Just drop it,” I tell her and wrench my arm free of her grip. I keep my feet moving and pass through the gym’s entrance, moving across the hall to the door of the boys’ change room, the one Aldershot has designated for use by the visiting team.
I stalk over to the benches on the far wall where I left my gym bag and coat before the game and start pulling out my track pants and a clean shirt to change into. As I’m staring down at my bag, almost violently pulling items from it, I notice Arizona arriving at her own belongings right next to me. I can’t help but curse myself for being so close to her right now. Why are we always so damn near each other?
“Calliope, what is going on with you? One second you’re hugging me and we’re shaking hands and the next you’re being a jerk to Jocelyn and-”
I give a snort at her name, still making sure to keep my eyes down. I notice her stop her own changing routine to look at me. She turns her body and squares her shoulders.
“What, so this is about her? What did she ever do to you?”
I finally look up, having grabbed everything I need to change out of my bag and set it on the bench next to it. I stare into those blue eyes, my own probably looking pretty cold.
“Nothing. She didn’t do anything to me. Happy?” With that I turn back to the wall and pull my jersey over my head only to replace it with another Titans t-shirt.
Arizona’s crossed arms come out to her sides as she continues to whisper-yell at me. “Yeah, Calliope, ecstatic,” she snarls in my ear. “I just love that my best friend is being a jerk to me for no reason and doesn’t even have the decency to tell me why she thinks it’s justified. Just love it.” She finally turns away from me to change into her own street clothes.
I yank off my shoes and knee pads before doing the same to my shorts and grabbing my folded pants from the bench.
“Yeah, well you know what? I wasn’t exactly ‘ecstatic’ to see you practically coming all over yourself in there over how funny Jocelyn is,” I say mocking her name. “God, why don’t you just let her grope you on the court next time, save some time?”
With those parting words I grab my coat and bag and head for the door, rubbing my temples and sending a less than friendly look toward Addison on my way out. Luckily most of the team just threw their jackets on and made their way to the bus, sparing us from having an audience.
I hear a door open harshly behind me and footsteps quickening.
“You did not just say that to me,” Arizona growls under her breath when she catches up and blocks my path. She stops and eyes me dangerously. I look away for a moment to see the last of the team pass us on their way to the front of the building. I furrow my eyebrows suddenly. Did I forget something?
I lift a foot to feel my calf for my knee pads and find nothing but pants. I pull my bag forward from where it’s hanging on my shoulder to check the side pockets.
“Crap, I left my pads in there,” I mumble and turn to go back into the change room I’d just escaped. Arizona is right on my heels. Apparently she’s not going to let me out of her sight until she’s said what she wants.
As soon as we’re through the door Arizona rounds on me.
“What the hell is wrong with you today? It’s one thing for you to be kinda moody and lash out at Jocelyn or even me, but this? No, this is not okay,” she declares and crosses her arms across her chest. She’s taking a stand and literally blocking my exit.
I make quick work of the knee pads I’d left sitting on the bench and zip up their designated pocket.
“Whatever, maybe I am just moody,” I say.
“No, I know you and I know your brand of moody and this isn’t that. You’re acting like some jealous girlfriend or something. Why are you being like this?” she pushes.
“Because maybe I want to be!” I yell at her in frustration.
“What? Want to be what?” I can see her eyes moving back and forth, her mouth parted slightly as she works through what I could mean. When she comes to a conclusion, her eyebrows furrow deeply as if she can’t make sense of what her brain is telling her.
“What, you want to be my jealous girlfriend?” she asks like it’s not even in the realm of possibilities.
I look around awkwardly for a moment before dropping my head and running a hand over my face. When I lift my head I really don’t know what to say. The hand that’s not gripping the strap to my gym bag comes out in front of me. When I can’t come up with words that hand drops, smacking against my thigh. The sound echoes in the empty room.
“What are you saying, Callie?” she asks sharply, her tone more harsh than I can ever remember it being.
“I don’t know! I don’t know, okay? All I know is that I didn’t like her hands on you and I don’t want you to go out for coffee with her on Friday!”
Arizona keeps eyeing me, trying to find any reason to think I’m messing with her.
“No! No, Callie, you don’t get to pretend to like me like me when I finally get a date after months of being single. You don’t get to tell me this when just this past weekend you told me I should get a girlfriend to release my hormones with!
“And you’re straight! What about Jackson?”
“I broke up with Jackson!” I yell, finally finding my voice again and she looks genuinely shocked.
“And that hormone thing? That was before - before the bowling alley and before the food sharing and the handholding! It was before!”
“I need you to tell me-”
“Guys!”
Arizona and I turn to the new voice. Addison’s head is sticking through the door, looking at us like we’re crazy. “I can hear you half way down the hall. Everyone’s waiting for you two, let’s go.”
We make our way out to the bus in silence. I keep stealing glances at Arizona but aside from looking deep in thought I really can’t tell how she’s feeling.
Once on the bus, I apologise to our coaches for holding us up and explain that I forgot my gear. Arizona walks ahead of me and takes one step past the first empty bench so I take my usual spot at the window, dumping my bag at my feet, and hope she’ll still sit next to me.
And she does. And I smile a bit at that because if Arizona is anything, she’s loyal and of all the people in the world that she might run from, I know that I'm not one of them.
The girls around us make idle chit-chat, most of them pretty tired from the long day and a hard-earned victory. Arizona and I remain quiet; this is hardly the place to continue that little discussion, if it could be called that, so I lay my head back against the seat and try to sleep away the ride.
A little while later, I wake up from what feels like a bright light. When I blink my eyes open it’s actually dark around us and Addie is kneeling on the bench in front of us, smiling at me.
“Hey, sleepyheads. We’re here.”
I look to my right to find Arizona still asleep on my shoulder, her arm wrapped around mine as my palm rests on her thigh. At least she’s not holding any subconscious grudges against me, right?
I shrug my shoulder a little wake her up and couple it with a squeeze from my hand when she keeps sleeping. She tiredly opens her eyes, rubs at them, then stretches before settling back into her seat.
Her pale hands grip my arm tightly, her chin resting on my shoulder, blue eyes on my face. I turn to her again and watch as she lowers her lips to leave a light kiss where her chin had just been. I reward her with a small but genuine smile and return the kiss on her forehead; we’re not exactly ready to apologize just yet but we both said some harsh things and leaving it like that just isn’t okay.
Arizona leans forward slightly to look out the window.
“Where are we?” she asks, trying to make out the landmarks in her sleepy haze.
“Close. Just a few more minutes,” I tell her.
We finally pull into the school parking lot and say goodbye to our team members then make our way to my car in silence. I throw my bag into the trunk before hopping in and turning the machine on while Arizona gets herself comfortable with her gym bag at her feet. The easy atmosphere from the bus has left us and in its stead there’s an awkward silence that fills the car. Luckily the ride home is short. When I ask her if she’s staying over, hoping we can have a real conversation, as I'm turning onto our street, she declines.
“It’s family night,” she grouses. “You know how they are.” And the entire time she keeps her eyes on her fidgeting fingers.
So I keep going, passing my house, and turn off the street a couple minutes later to get to her family’s home.
“Thanks for the ride,” she says and makes her way up to the front door. I stay there and watch her until she’s inside then pull a u-turn to get back to my place. My empty house, with no one in it except maybe Aria and even if she’s there, she’ll just be holed up in her room on the phone.
I drop my gym bag at the foot of the stairs. There’s no point in taking my sweaty clothes upstairs when the laundry room is down here.
In the kitchen I open the fridge to find a container with my name on it. I grab it and pull the lid off to see what kind of leftovers mom left me. Pork chops and rice with a side of asparagus. Even reheated it’s better than having to nuke a TV dinner.
I throw the meal into the microwave and hit the auto reheat button and make my way to the couch to watch TV. I haven’t even had the chance to settle on a show before the appliance beeps to let me know that my food is ready.
As I eat, I stare ahead blankly, my mind too busy contemplating how my outburst will affect my friendship with Arizona. Are we still gonna be friends after this? What if she thinks I’ve been intentionally lying to her, keeping her in the dark about my feelings and Jackson? Oh my God. I sit up straight, dropping my fork to the plate with a loud clatter.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! What if she likes me back? What if she actually wants to do something about this; give it a try? I’ve never been with a girl! Who pays on the date? Do I open doors for her if I ask her out? What if I don’t like the local cuisine south of the Mason-Dixon? I’ve never even been to the northern mountains! Oh, God!
Okay, I’m freaking out. Breathe, Callie, just breathe. Alright, shower first; freak-out later. That’ll calm me down anyway, right?
I make my way up the stairs to my bathroom and take a long shower, flexing every muscle then relaxing it to rid my body of the tension. The little scalp massage I give myself as I wash my hair doesn’t hurt, either.
After I rinse and relax under the hot spray for a while I get out and dry off, leaving my hair damp to do its thing. I change into my most comfortable cotton pyjama bottoms and a thermal tee before making my way back down to the living room to enjoy the big screen TV down there before bed.
I make myself comfortable by lying down on the plush couch, practically melting into the thing in my exhaustion. The satellite channel plays some reruns of Who’s the Boss? before I change the channel when Golden Girls follows it, feeling in the mood for something from this millennium for a change. I quickly renege that thought, though, when the retro cartoon channel I flip over is playing Bugs Bunny repeats. After what feels like an eternity in my head, I hear the front door open and close quietly. I glance at the clock and note that it’s past 10:30. Concluding that it’s just Aria getting home, I make no move to get off the couch.
The quiet footfalls pad along the cold stone tiles, coming closer to the living room. When a head of blonde hair peeks in in silence, I quickly sit upright.
“Arizona?”
She steps fully into the living room, her feet sinking into the plush carpet as she holds up one finger indicating for me to stay quiet. I nod slightly.
“You really broke up with Jackson?”
I nod and start to explain myself but am shushed once more.
“Maybe I was a little harsh in the change room today but you weren’t exactly a delight, either.”
She pauses expectantly and I acknowledge this; if this is all I’m getting for what I said then she’s letting me off easy.
“I’m not saying it’s not okay to have a girl-crush - I mean, hello! - but-but I just need some time and space to be shocked!”
“What, you didn’t expect some understanding when you told me?” I ask with a scoff.
“I never had boyfriends!” she exclaims then looks around sheepishly, waiting for someone to come and tell us to be quiet.
“I never brought home a boy or talked about boys or whether J.T.T. or Nick Carter was hotter because, for my money, it would always be Topanga! And I'm pretty sure that 13-year-old me didn’t do too great a job at hiding how I looked at the other girls in gym class!”
I can’t help but laugh a little at that, remembering how her eyes would awkwardly linger on the girls that began developing early on.
“But you? You’re changing the game. I’ve known you for 15 years and now, I-I-I don’t know, now you have this entire other side that I don’t know what to make of!”
With that she straightens her back in resolve.
“And then what you said about me and Jocelyn?”
I can't help the eye roll at the mention of her name.
“See - that! That right there!” she says and points at me. “That’s what I’m talking about: you’ve never had an issue with my girlfriends or the girls I flirt with before. I mean, how long has this even been going on?”
Was that rhetorical or my cue to start talking? I keep staring at her, afraid to make the wrong choice. After a few seconds she turns her back and starts back toward the door.
“Arizona, stop! We don’t do this,” I say and gesture between us. I'm standing in front of the couch, waiting for her to turn around but she doesn’t.
“We don’t do this. We don’t yell obscenities at each other then walk away without talking about it. Hell, we don’t really yell obscenities at each other at all! So - no. You’re not going to walk in here and yell at me and tell me how I'm different and then leave.”
I watch as Arizona finally turns to look at me.
“So put down your stuff and come sit down. If you don’t want to talk, if you just want to be shocked, then that’s fine. But I’m not letting you walk out of here like this.”
I know my eyes are burning but that’s just what she does to me; there’s a passion that’s been there since I’ve known her. I guess it’s just taken this long for it to grow to the point it has. Arizona stares right back at me and limply drops her purse to the ground in defeat before carefully padding over to me, dropping her forehead to my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her waist and keep them there for a couple minutes, just letting us take a breather. After that I bring my hands to the front of her peacoat and undo the buttons, smiling at her when she pulls her head back.
When I’ve pushed the coat off her shoulders, I drop it onto the arm of the couch I was just laying on and take her hand before sitting down.
“Sooo, talking or being shocked?” I ask tentatively. Arizona just shakes her head then leans into me. I take that as a cue to lay back, pulling her next to me so that she’s half resting on the cushions and half draped over me with her head on my shoulder.
We watch cartoon reruns until she falls asleep at which point I lower the volume and run my fingertips up and down her back. It feels nice to have her arm around my middle instead of just pushed between us. At that thought I run my other hand lightly up and down that draped arm, wishing I could somehow hold her hand but the position we’re in would make that too awkward.
As the current episode comes to a close the front door opens once more and, for the second time tonight, I hear footsteps coming my way. A moment later Aria is standing in front of me with a full-blown smirk on her face. She crosses her arms authoritatively and raises a mocking brow at me.
“So are you two together yet or what?”
I scoff for the thousandth time today. “Oh, God, you too?”
“I’m not blind, Callie,” she retorts then nods toward the blonde in my arms. “So?”
“No, and I don’t think we will be,” I answer honestly.
Aria looks put off by this then shrugs. “It’s just a matter of time. Good night, sis.”
“G’night, Aria. Hey, where are mom and dad?”
She turns back around, one foot already on the bottom stair. “Some function at a hotel downtown. Mom said they’d be back late if at all.”
“So that’s why you missed curfew?” I tease.
She smiles back. “Nope, I was here at nine o’clock, you saw me.”
“Good night,” I call again and settle in as I listen to her climb the stairs.