Origins - Chapter 3/7
Title: Origins
Gift: Fic and Fic Song
Recipient: afrakaday
Pairing/Characters: Sharon O'Dwyer, Andrea Hobbs, Andrea/Sharon, Andy Flynn and Jackson Raydor as minor supporting characters
Rating: K for all chapters except for Chapter 3, which is MA
Word Count: 42,000 total (divided among 7 Chapters and an Epilogue)
Synopsis: Sharon O'Dwyer and Andrea Hobbs' challenging childhoods prepare them for meeting one another in college. Growing together and apart, they mature and age, up to present day.
Trigger Warning: PTSD and gun violence in Chapter 5
Disclaimer: Not my characters or television show
A/N: This was written for the 3rd Annual Gift Exchange at majorcrimes. Thank you defyingnormalcy for her beta and for shepherding me through the process of writing and posting my first ever fanfic. This gift is primarily a fic, but in the Epilogue, there's a link to an original song that one character writes for the other. afrakaday, based on your requests, this is backstory, AU romantic history, and Andrea/Sharon. Happy holidays and happy new year!
CHAPTER 3
Sharon weaved her way between the students, crammed into every nook and cranny of the house. Their inane conversations were loud, but they had to be, to rise up over the music that blared. After getting beer spilled in her hair, having someone electric slide into her side, and being called "baby" no less than three times, Sharon made her way across the thirty feet of space that separated her room from Andrea's. The feat was all the more dangerous because she wore her house slippers and held a coffee mug filled with water.
She knocked on Andrea's door. No response. She knocked again, noticing a faint light coming from beneath the door. Still nothing. She guessed there was a chance Andrea had ventured out of her room into the party that Jack and Andy were throwing. Sharon was about to turn away when the door opened a crack and she saw Andrea's eyes peer out through the slim opening. They both smiled, warmly, as they made eye contact.
Andrea opened the door wider, reaching out to grab Sharon's wrist and tug playfully. Sharon hurried inside.
The room was so small, it only fit a narrow desk and a narrow mattress. But, despite everything, or maybe because of it, the room was cozy, warm, dear. It was lit with little indirect lights that Andrea had pinned around the room, where the wall met the ceiling.
"Welcome to the party antidote." Andrea smiled, motioning to her bed. "Have a seat."
Sharon obliged, wanting nothing more than to be in this small room, with Andrea. "Have you been writing?"
"Trying to," Andrea sighed, closing the open journal on her desk and taking a seat next to Sharon, on the bed.
Someone slammed against the wall just outside the room. Andrea looked horrified. "We could play a game," Sharon suggested, trying to lift Andrea's mood. "Guess what the random sounds are: drunk stumble, dance move gone bad, or intense make out session?"
"Why do I live here?" Andrea wrinkled her forehead in disgust.
"Because it's cheap,” Sharon shrugged.
"And because I never would have met you." Andrea reached out and placed her hand over the back of Sharon's hand.
Sharon turned her palm face up, entwining their fingers.
They both sighed, audibly.
"I never want to leave this room," Sharon lamented.
"Don't."
"What happens when I have to pee?"
"No more water for you." Andrea took the mug of water out of Sharon's other hand and placed it on her desk. "But seriously. You can stay here if you want."
Sharon assumed Andrea meant until the partiers wound down. But Sharon hoped Andrea actually meant all night. Or forever.
Sharon smiled. "I really like being here. With you."
"I really like being with you too," Andrea streamlined the phrase, and their feelings.
Their thumbs started caressing the back of the other person's hand.
They leaned in, and kissed softly.
Without letting go of her hand that was pleasantly entwined with Andrea's, Sharon's other hand reached around to grasp the back of Andrea's neck.
They kissed gently, but deeply, for an unknown amount of time, the sounds outside the room gradually growing fainter. Their reverence for the moment - their first true acknowledgement of their feelings - was the only thing preventing them from acting more on their mutual attraction.
They eventually got under the covers, clothes still on, entwining their bodies like they'd entwined their hands hours earlier.
✢✢✢✢✢
"How did you sleep?" Andrea smiled, as Sharon's eyelids fluttered, not yet accepting that daylight had taken the world.
Andrea had been awake for probably an hour, reveling in the feeling of being so close to Sharon physically, and emotionally. Their faces were an inch apart and Andrea had been enjoying the feeling of Sharon's breath on her face, every time the sleeping Sharon exhaled. Some part of Andrea cautioned her heart that it was too soon to feel so strongly...but she'd never cared about someone so much. She could lay next to Sharon forever and never achieve another thing. Spending time with her was fulfilling, in and of itself.
The muscles in Sharon's face awoke, as her eyes opened and she formed a lazy, content smile. "Really deeply. You?"
"Best I've ever slept in this room."
"That's pretty incredible, considering…"
"A pack of wild hyenas were on the other side of the door, tearing up our house all night?"
"Also considering this is a tiny bed."
"I liked being cuddled up with you."
"Me too."
Sharon reached up and moved a piece of Andrea's hair that had escaped her ponytail, out of her eyes. Sharon had always wanted to do that. She was about to tell Andrea just that.
"You've always wanted to do that?" Andrea read Sharon's mind.
"Yes, how did you..."
Andrea shrugged, as much as she could, considering she was laying on her side. "I could just tell. It was the way you looked at me. It was the way that look felt. Did you know I've always wanted to do this?"
Andrea slipped her arm around Sharon's side and back, every inch of movement distinctly sensual. They'd hugged before, plenty of times. But there was an energy now that had been repressed before. Sharon shivered as electricity shot up her spine. Andrea caressed her back, through her sweatshirt, lovingly.
It was as if they suddenly had permission to express the fullness of the affection they each felt. They weren't just comfortable in their vulnerability, they were comfortable because of their vulnerability. Sharon had never felt more safe. Neither had Andrea.
They scooted towards one another on the pillow they shared, close enough that their lips could find one another, once again.
The morning kiss was even more tender, more imbued with meaning. It was like an affirmation that everything that had transpired the night before was real. True. Here to stay.
After an hour of kissing, and cuddling, and taking turns spooning one another, physically inviting the other person to rest her spine against the soft belly of the other, they found themselves face to face again, breath commingling.
Smiling softly, Sharon mused, "What now?" Sharon didn't even know what she meant, exactly. It was like she'd awoken in the pages of a book, and she wasn't sure what the next page, or chapter, or volume held, but she knew she would love every minute of it. She felt more hopeful and excited about the future than she ever had in her entire life.
Sharon's seemingly innocent question struck Andrea in the gut. Andrea's expression grew serious, as she feared the worst. What now was the kind of phrase you might ask yourself after waking up and realizing you'd made a huge mistake. What now could mean, 'how do we have a clandestine relationship, and not let anyone else know we're involved.' What now could mean, 'how do we move past this, forget this moment, and still be friends.'
In high school, Andrea had fallen for a friend. The feelings seemed mutual. As soon as they kissed, Andrea imagined a whole life together opening up, but her friend backed away and backed away hard, saying she'd made a mistake, wanted to pretend the kiss hadn't happened, and couldn't be friends anymore.
"Andrea? What's wrong?" Sharon asked sympathetically, eyes searching Andrea's face for answers.
Andrea pushed herself up to a sitting posture, as if laying down was too vulnerable a position in which to receive bad news. "I'm just not sure what you mean by what now," Andrea revealed, forehead a sea of concern.
Sharon's heart understood, even if her head didn't. She assured Andrea, instinctively, sitting up and placing both hands on Andrea's knees. "I wasn't sure what I meant, either." Sharon smiled impishly, bringing her shoulders up as if asking a playful question. Her adorable shrug didn't relieve Andrea at all. Andrea was trapped in an old memory. Sharon ventured forward, fearlessly exposing her own soul, because she cared about Andrea so much, she couldn't bear to see her suffer. "Well, I can tell you some of what I meant by what now. I want to hang out with you nonstop for as long as you're game, and I'm not sure what we should choose for our next adventure."
Andrea started to lower her hackles. She made penetrating eye contact, saying softly, "What now could also mean: how do we go on being friends, and pretend like this never happened."
"You mean, pretend this never happened?" Sharon smiled deeply, understanding Andrea better by the second. Sharon leaned forward and kissed Andrea, flush on the mouth.
Andrea found herself kissing and smiling, at the same time, as it dawned on her that she was in the present moment, with Sharon, not stuck between the pages of her high school yearbook.
A thick strand of Andrea's hair fell away from her ponytail and down across her face, this time tickling Sharon's cheek as it fell. Without breaking the kiss, Sharon attempted to place the hair over Andrea's ear. They broke off their kiss as Sharon giggled.
"Here's an answer to what now, for you." Andrea said with a smirk, overtly nonchalant, trying on this new way of being with Sharon. "I've been wanting to cut my hair. Will you help me?"
Sharon grinned. Andrea’s request was so normalizing. That’s what made it so perfect. They didn't need to make grand proclamations, not now, not today. To show how they felt about one another, they just needed to make a continuous series of small, meaningful gestures that kept them spending time with one another and growing with each other. To Sharon, this everyday task of cutting hair was like a portent of things to come. It meant they could have life together: every part of life. The miraculous, and the mundane. Sharon was momentarily lost in the daydream of doing everything with Andrea, from now on.
"Well?" Andrea prompted; this time she was the one to smile playfully. "What do you say?"
"I’ve never cut hair before!" Sharon let out a barely stifled burst of laughter.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Andrea deadpanned, shrugging a single shoulder.
Sharon raised her eyebrows, as if to say, 'you very much know how bad it could be.'
They broke into laughter, rolling onto their backs and clutching their bellies, before rolling back together, Sharon kissing Andrea's forehead, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"I'm game if you are," Sharon said seriously, sitting up. "But first, we need to inspect the damage." Sharon tilted her head toward the rest of the house.
✢✢✢✢✢
"Shoes!" Sharon directed, realizing they both needed to put on shoes before stepping into the potentially sticky kitchen.
They opened the door to Andrea's room cautiously, as if they weren't sure what wild animal carcasses they might find, strewn about.
The first thing Sharon noticed was the odor.
"Oh god, close your door! We don't want that smell invading your sanctuary."
In contrast to the sublime, softly lit room, where everything felt like a relic on a sacred altar, the entire downstairs of their shared house was littered with red plastic cups, empty alcohol bottles, and articles of clothing.
They tiptoed around, as if entering a crime scene, scoping it out to see if it was clear.
Sharon took the living room, Andrea took the side room; they met on the other side of both, in the hallway. They looked at one another and shrugged.
They glanced in the bathroom, pulling back the shower curtain. All clear.
They opened the door to Sharon's room. Miraculously, it looked untouched.
Sharon sighed, audibly. "Thank god. I was sure there'd be someone making out in here. Or at least evidence that someone had." But Sharon's bed looked impeccably made, just the way she'd left it.
Andrea stepped carefully into Sharon's room, removing her shoes at the doorway and closing the door behind her.
"Looks pristine," Andrea said, looking at Sharon's bed carefully before turning around and smiling at Sharon. "Still, we should get you a padlock for next time."
Sharon shrugged. Suddenly there were things much more important in life than keeping her room as organized as a Dewey decimal system. "Ready for that hair cut?" Sharon grinned, picking the up the scissors on her desk.
✢✢✢✢✢
They put a chair in the middle of Sharon's room.
"I don't know exactly. I just want it shorter."
"Oh my god, I can't believe you trust me."
"I do."
Sharon was used to being responsible for other people, taking care of them, being the person they could lean on. But when Andrea said she trusted her, it felt different. It wasn't the feeble proclamation from another hanger on. It was like permission for Sharon to trust the equally strong Andrea, in turn.
Before Sharon could respond, Andrea turned forward again and said, "Okay, I'm ready."
"Aren't we being a little cavalier?"
"Learn by doing,” Andrea shrugged.
"Wait, you don't want to get little bits of hair all over your clothes. It'll be a pain to get rid of." Sharon blushed after the words left her mouth, aware of the implied solution.
"You are adorable," Andrea smiled, looking up at her. "That wasn't a ploy. You are actually worried about the hair bits getting in my clothes."
Sharon nodded, timidly.
"I love that about you. You're so…" Andrea gave Sharon a look of overacted seduction, rolling the word around her tongue. "…careful." The tension burst as they both started laughing.
Sharon let herself fall onto the loveseat, clutching her stomach with laughter, but not before carefully placing the scissors on her nightstand.
"See?" Andrea pointed out as they fell into an even deeper fit of laughter.
"Okay, but in all seriousness." Sharon raised her eyebrows towards Andrea, trying to sound nonchalant, even as she felt herself becoming aroused, at the prospect. "I'm just being practical here."
"Sharon," Andrea looked at her saucily. A growing smile revealed her desire, before she said it. "If I'm getting naked, you are too."
✢✢✢✢✢
An hour later, Andrea's blond hair was strewn across Sharon's floor.
"I love it," she exclaimed, looking in Sharon's handheld mirror.
Sharon suspected hair cuts didn't usually take an hour and a half. And they usually didn't take place in one's underwear. Or with your barber in her underwear.
"Okay, I'm just going to be honest here…" Sharon started.
"Another thing I love about you," Andrea interrupted, looking up at Sharon with an expression of adoration. "Your commitment to honesty."
Sharon felt herself turn red, and for the first time in her life she had reason to wonder whether other parts of her body blushed, besides her cheeks.
Andrea knew it was hard for Sharon to accept compliments of any kind. "Like I've always said, you are great at giving but you stink at receiving. Just accept that you are awesome in so many ways."
Sharon shyly shook her head, at a loss for words.
Andrea continued. "Okay, go ahead. What were you going to be honest about?"
"I was going to say, this not wearing clothes thing might not have been the best idea."
"I think it's awesome. Now I have about a hundred more things I love about you." Andrea lifted her fingers and started bending them back one-by-one, as if ticking off the first five on her list. "Your collarbones, your belly button, the curve of your butt right there."
"Oh my god, you're making me shy!" Sharon exclaimed, at some level wishing she was wearing more than her bra and panties; at another level wishing she was wearing less.
"No, no, please. I don't mean to embarrass you, Sharon. That's the last thing I want to do. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. I'm just not used to being complimented by someone who's opinion I actually care about."
"You're used to being adored by people you don't respect?"
"Exactly."
They shared a knowing grin.
"I'm honored that you care what I think," Andrea said, seriously.
"Are you kidding?" Sharon burst. "You're, you're amazing. I've never actually cared what anyone thought, until I met you. I love you." It just tumbled out of her. A look of terror crossed her face as she realized what she'd said.
Before Sharon could turn her self-shock into real panic, Andrea said slowly, deliberately, "I love you, too."
Sharon put down the scissors as Andrea stood up.
They stepped into one another's arms, hands on one another's cheek, jaw, neck.
This time, their kiss carried a fervent heat, not just a smoldering warmth. Their mouths opened and their tongues danced, tasting one another. Sharon made "mmmm" sounds, unable to hide her pleasure.
Sharon broke away and panted, catching her breath.
"So, what were you saying about nakedness being a bad idea?" Andrea said with her familiar tone of teasing sarcasm.
"I was going to tell you, that I was so distracted by your body, I don't think I did a good job with your hair."
"You were going to tell me that?"
"I was working up the courage to, yes."
"Well, I think you did a great job." Andrea shook her head vigorously so her now shorter than shoulder length hair flew up in the hair and fell down again, adjusting itself.
"You should shower off,” Sharon suggested, practically. "I can always do touch up later, if need be."
"Good idea," Andrea smiled.
"You can borrow my towel," Sharon offered.
"Thanks. But fair warning: I may get little bits of hair all over it."
"That's okay," Sharon smiled. "Totally worth it."
✢✢✢✢✢
Sharon heard Andrea close the bathroom door down the hall and start the shower.
Sharon lay back on her bed, exhausted from the act of not consummating their relationship. She closed her eyes and imagined Andrea's lips on her own again. Then, she imagined them on her ear, her throat, her collarbone. "Mmmmm," Sharon heard herself murmur. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, shocked by the indiscretion of her own imagination.
She could hear the water running down the hall and pictured a fully naked Andrea, rubbing herself in the shower. Sharon felt her mouth go dry, as it hit her just how much she wanted to make love to Andrea. She wanted to be as close as possible, to learn the secrets of their bodies, to express everything she felt but couldn't articulate. She wanted to show Andrea how much she cared. And she wanted to be completely vulnerable, in turn. Sharon's eyes fell closed again, dwelling in a warm, all encompassing daydream for an unknown amount of time, until she heard a gentle knock on her door.
"Come in," Sharon called. She suddenly realized she was still laying on her back, staring at the ceiling. She sat up so hurriedly, she knocked a pillow off her immaculate bed just as Andrea walked in. Flustered, Sharon crossed her legs, casually.
Andrea smirked good naturedly, and made a show of looking around suspiciously, as if she was interrupting something. Then, with a similarly forced casualness, Andrea unwrapped the towel from her body; standing in her bra and underwear again, she reached out to hang the towel on the wall hook. Andrea missed the hook and the towel fell towards the floor. Sharon stifled a giggle. Andrea caught the towel, and on her second attempt, managed to hang it. But there was no doubt about it: Andrea was conspicuously flush and flustered, as if something was on her mind, too. "Thanks for the towel," Andrea said, her throat sounding parched.
"Don't mention it." Sharon choked on her words.
"I'm going to get dressed now," Andrea declared.
Sharon nodded.
"And then I'm going to clean up your room," Andrea continued.
"Oh! I..." Sharon stammered, "I…" Typical Sharon behavior would have been to sweep up the loose hair, as quickly as possible. It was obvious she had been so distracted by something, she hadn't bothered to clean up.
"No need to explain…" Andrea shook her head, biting the inside of her lower lip to prevent herself from breaking into a knowing grin as she mentally noted the slightly mussed bed. She modestly turned her back to Sharon as she pulled her hoody and shorts over her underwear.
Andrea and Sharon each smiled to themselves, confident they were on the same page in terms of another possible answer to what now.
✢✢✢✢✢
The rest of that semester was like a dream. Sharon had never been so happy.
They usually spent the night in Andrea's cozy room, made breakfast together, went to their respective classes, then met up in the library where they sat side-by-side, holding hands while they studied, and playing footsie under the table. In the evenings, they'd hang out in Sharon's room, perched on her loveseat, bed, or floor, talking and laughing, confessing fears, vulnerabilities, and dreams.
Sharon shared about her family, in ways she never had with anyone. Andrea talked about her past too, sharing about old girlfriends and boyfriends, revealing that because she lost her parents at a young age, she had an especially strong desire to bond with someone else. Andrea hinted at her fear that she was living out that habit, even now. After all, her day started and ended with Sharon on her mind. Even in her dreams they were together; exploring the world, exploring each other.
So, Sharon broached the concept of them moving more slowly, being more casual, maybe not spending every day and every night together, not because she wanted to change anything about their current rhythm, but because she wanted Andrea to feel comfortable. She wanted Andrea to be acting out of love, not trauma. "Maybe it would help us to think about the normal speed of relationship development. Let's think about how normal people date each other, in terms of cadence, frequency, intensity," Sharon suggested.
Andrea loved feeling seen, heard, and understood by Sharon. She realized that with this much awareness of one another and this much attentiveness to their own hearts, she had nothing to fear. "I might have forced things with other people in the past, but that doesn't mean what we have isn't profoundly real. And it doesn't mean we need to change what's working and what's making us happy. I'm perfectly content being abnormal, if you're okay being abnormal with me," Andrea grinned. "Besides, have you ever done anything casually, in your entire life?" It was Andrea's turn to show Sharon how much she saw and understood about Sharon.
Sharon made a show of searching her memory bank. "No," she said conclusively, grinning at where Andrea's line of logic was taking them.
"So," Andrea shrugged, "we can pretend we're going to take it slow, if you want. But I think we'll just be fooling ourselves."
Andrea was like a divining rod of truth. Sharon tackled Andrea, pushing them back against Andrea's bed, pressing her lips against Andrea's mouth.
After a minute of fervent kisses, Sharon came up for air. She propped herself on one elbow and shrugged her other shoulder as she looked down at Andrea's contented smile. "Slow is a relative concept. So, we can take it slow for us," Sharon nodded decisively. "That doesn't mean it's slow compared to the rest of the world."
"Sounds good to me," Andrea laughed, pulling Sharon back down, on top of her.
✢✢✢✢✢
This Thanksgiving morning, Sharon was flooded with gratitude...
...and other sensations.
Sharon arched her spine, eyes rolling back in her head, grateful that for once she didn't need to muffle her own moan.
Their only housemate whose room was also on the ground floor, had left yesterday to spend Thanksgiving with his family. Eric's mom, Professor Magnussen, taught at their school, so for him, going home for holidays was as convenient as driving across town.
And that glorious reality was why Sharon could let her lips fall apart as her knees did, unconstrained sounds of ecstasy filling the small room. Andrea, for her part, was grateful to hear the fullness of Sharon's voice; it was like a jolt of impassioned electricity that infused her with a new surge of energy.
Sharon's eyelids fluttered open, for only seconds at a time, the world becoming a series of gorgeous still photographs.
And she was grateful for all she saw.
In the background, the snow decorated the big tree outside Andrea's window. In the foreground, Andrea was nestled between her legs, tirelessly dedicated to her mission of giving Sharon pleasure.
"Dear god, Andrea, mmmm..."
Sharon's eyes snapped open and her jaw snapped shut, as she heard a commotion, on the other side of the bedroom wall. Sharon reached down and touched Andrea on the shoulder, just as Andrea paused, apparently noticing the voices, too.
Andrea looked up along the length of Sharon's rising and falling abdomen as they made eye contact. Sharon pressed a finger to her mouth. Andrea nodded, kissing the inside of Sharon's thigh, gently, as a way of mutually bookmarking the scene.
They got dressed, wordlessly. When they were ready, Andrea opened her door and they stepped into the mayhem.
Their housemates were assembled, dressed in coats, hats, and mittens, as if layered up for an outing. But they were either agitated or cold, because they hopped from foot to foot, and rubbed their hands together, briskly.
"Was the heat off down here all night, too?" Clare asked.
Andrea and Sharon looked at one another blankly, then shrugged at their housemates.
"We should take a page out of your book," Hannah smirked, reading her housemates like open volumes. "The heat breaks in the middle of winter and you two don't even notice." Her wink was teasing, yet congratulatory.
Despite the cold air starting to seep into Sharon's skin now that they had left their cozy haven, she felt herself turning red. They'd told their housemates as soon as they'd started dating. But Sharon wasn't showy. She liked attention for her academic accomplishments, not her personal life. So although she was deeply proud of what she and Andrea had, she didn't want their relationship in anyone's viewfinder.
Andrea sensed Sharon's unease, and quickly stepped toward the fridge, pulling it open dramatically. "Wow, it feels like it's warmer inside the fridge than outside." The proclamation had the desired effect and the smirks evaporated from their housemates' faces as they became consumed by this new, outrageous fact.
Sharon smiled at Andrea, gratefully. Then, Sharon's eyes grew wide as something else occurred to her. Sharon moved towards the turkey she'd left on the kitchen counter to defrost. She'd intended to cook them a house Thanksgiving dinner, but as she knocked her knuckles against the large bird, she marveled aloud. "It refroze!" She broke into a loud, unapologetic laugh.
Their landlord turned out to be unreachable over the Thanksgiving holiday. So, Eric's mom invited everyone to come and stay for a few days. Everyone gratefully accepted, excited about the novelty of camping out on Professor Magnussen's livingroom floor. Everyone accepted, except for Sharon and Andrea, that is.
Eric swung by in his car and picked up their housemates for the quick jaunt across town. Sharon and Andrea helped carry their housemates' sleeping bags to the front door.
"Have fun," Hannah winked, stepping onto the front porch and closing the door behind her. The door reopened, a second later. Hannah stuck her head back in. "I mean, thanks for watching the house." She smiled more softly and closed the door again, obviously not wanting to embarrass her housemates. Sharon and Andrea heard Hannah thunder down the steps and jump into Eric's car with the rest of their pals.
"We live with good people," Andrea said aloud, as Sharon nodded.
✢✢✢✢✢
Their housemates didn't mind the growing closeness between Sharon and Andrea. In fact, the joy that emanated from the Andrea and Sharon partnership was contagious. Their housemates seemed happy to bask in it.
One night, just after midterms, Clare brought home extra tubs of ice cream from a mock trial event she'd thrown. She declared it an impromptu ice cream party for the house. They all gathered in the upstairs living room, clinking spoons, passing around the tubs, not bothering to divide the contents into individual bowls. Besides, it was more fun this way. Eric promised to regale them with stories of Professor intrigue that he'd heard from his mom, but he made everyone swear not to pass on the tales. They solemnly swore their oath by each taking a simultaneous bite of chocolate ice cream.
Andrea and Sharon sat in an armchair. Andrea was set deeper in the chair, her back against its back. Sharon leaned languidly against Andrea, her head relaxed and resting on Andrea's shoulder, except for when she sat up to stick her spoon in a tub and merrily eat a bite, or, when she threw her head forward in shock or laughter, at one of Eric's retellings.
Andrea kissed Sharon's forehead with sticky lips and whispered, "Babe, can you get up, I've gotta pee."
When Andrea had left the room, Sharon pulled her legs under her and nestled more deeply into the chair, her spine still relaxed, her curved body reminiscent of a lounging cat.
Jack carried the tub of strawberry over and held it out for Sharon, since Andrea's long arms were temporarily missing from the passing circle, and since it seemed like a shame to make Sharon get up when she looked so comfortable. Sharon thanked him with a smile and dug her spoon in.
Jack smiled back and started talking in a low voice. "Sharon, I don't want to make you self-conscious, so just tell me to stop if you don't want to hear it, but..."
"Go ahead, Jack," Sharon prompted, truly at ease with whatever he might be hesitating to say.
"See, case in point!" He waved his spoon in her direction. "The Sharon I first met, back in high school, the Sharon I knew even last year, that Sharon would have been concerned about what I was going to say, what anyone was going to say, especially if it was going to be about her. That Sharon was worried and nervous, all the time. That Sharon was sad." Jack shook his head as if shaking off the memories. "You had it rough Sharon. I know we never talked about it because I didn't want to embarrass you. But it wasn't fair how much was on your shoulders." Sharon noticed his fists clench and unclench, unthinkingly, at his side. "You worked so hard, harder than any kid should. Anyway, I don't want to make you self-conscious or anything." Sharon blinked at Jack, wondering if it was the lighting in the room, or whether his eyes were actually glassy. He turned his head slightly and she concluded that it wasn't the lightning: a thin veil of moisture coated his eyes.
"All I'm trying to say is, you deserved to have fun, to be happy. You've always deserved that. I was obviously not the lug head for you." He pretended to knock himself in the head with his spoon, self-deprecatingly. "But I've never been so happy for someone else. Whatever you have with Andrea, keep it, hang on to it, go with it, roll with it, whatever you want to say, but just, just know that you've got something good. Something good for you, I mean. You're happy. You're happy all the time, and I'd never seen you truly happy even once before. Ever. Winning state wasn't happiness; it was like pain relief after a long ordeal. This, this is something else."
Sharon pushed herself up, perching on the arm of the armchair, wrapping her arms around Jack in a hug. He couldn't hug back, because of the tub in his hand, and because her affection took him by surprise. "Thank you," she whispered, before letting him go.
"Strawberry!" Hannah called, realizing they were going to have a pileup of tubs at one end of the room, if Jack didn't pass the ice cream to the next person.
✢✢✢✢✢
In the spring, Sharon got strep throat and Andrea took care of her.
"Sharon O'Dwyer, you are so talented at so many things. It breaks my heart to say this, but you are terrible at being a sick person."
Sharon started laugh-coughing. "How could I be terrible at being sick? Look at me; I am sick. I couldn't be more sick if I tried."
"Yes, you are sick and what sick people do is lay in bed and get waited on. And that is what I am doing for you. Right now. So, get back in bed, you."
"Okay, okay!" Sharon stepped away from the kitchen cabinets, put down the pot in her hand, and got back in bed. In Andrea's bed, to be precise. Andrea sat on the edge of it, near Sharon's arms.
"Strep throat is contagious. I read about it," Sharon warned.
"Well, I won't be sucking on your tonsils in the near future, that's for sure."
"But you could get sick from my coughing..." Sharon coughed, as if inspired by her own power of suggestion.
"And I am choosing to take that risk, okay? Now, quiet. Someone needs rest and all your talking is keeping her up."
Miraculously, Andrea never did get sick that season. And Sharon experienced something she never had before: someone truly caring for her, without strings attached. So, despite the fact that she was missing lectures, and had to call in sick to her library job, she actually felt remarkably settled, happy, and safe. So did Andrea. And during one of their late night conversations, Andrea revealed that she felt ready to ride a bike again. Her motivation was that she really, really wanted to ride places together. She nearly squealed with delight when she described how much fun it could be to pack picnics and ride to the state park on the edge of town.
So, when Sharon got better, Sharon bought two used bikes from a secondhand store, scrubbed them down as best she could, and before going to bed, leaned them against the big tree in the backyard, as a surprise.
In the morning, when Andrea awoke, Sharon was already sitting up, looking out the window.
"Morning. You're chipper this morning." Andrea assessed Sharon's body language, groggily.
"It's a beautiful day," Sharon said, smiling down at the sleepy-eyed Andrea.
Andrea sat up with effort and joined Sharon in looking out the window. After about ten seconds of slowly taking in the day, Andrea remarked, "Hey, who's bikes are those?"
"Hmm, maybe we should go find out," Sharon said, raising her eyebrows and one shoulder, cheekily.
Andrea woke up the rest of the way, in an instant. "Sharon?" Andrea didn't want to get her hopes up too much if she'd misinterpreted, but then again, Sharon's face was easy to read when she wanted it to be. Andrea started pulling on her sweatpants and t-shirt, not bothering with underwear.
Sharon followed suit, getting dressed quickly and following Andrea out of the room, then out of the backdoor of the house.
There were two tags attached to the bikes.
One said: "Andrea. Here's to the rides we'll take and the places we'll go."
The other said: "I treasure everywhere we've already been, on our side-by-side adventures."
Andrea looked at Sharon, tears in her eyes.
"And," Sharon added, "The bikes are unique. One of a kind, you could say. So, you get to test drive them and pick which one is yours."
They went inside to put on more suitable clothes, then came back out and wheeled the bikes to the empty lot a street over.
Sharon brought tools and adjusted the seats and handlebars to fit Andrea perfectly. Sharon could tell Andrea was nervous, because Andrea was determinedly wearing her most impassive expression.
Andrea got on one of the bikes for a test ride. After a few wobbly turns of the handlebars, something seemed to click, her labored pumping became smooth, and she started riding confident circles around a beaming Sharon.
CHAPTER 4...
Gift: Fic and Fic Song
Recipient: afrakaday
Pairing/Characters: Sharon O'Dwyer, Andrea Hobbs, Andrea/Sharon, Andy Flynn and Jackson Raydor as minor supporting characters
Rating: K for all chapters except for Chapter 3, which is MA
Word Count: 42,000 total (divided among 7 Chapters and an Epilogue)
Synopsis: Sharon O'Dwyer and Andrea Hobbs' challenging childhoods prepare them for meeting one another in college. Growing together and apart, they mature and age, up to present day.
Trigger Warning: PTSD and gun violence in Chapter 5
Disclaimer: Not my characters or television show
A/N: This was written for the 3rd Annual Gift Exchange at majorcrimes. Thank you defyingnormalcy for her beta and for shepherding me through the process of writing and posting my first ever fanfic. This gift is primarily a fic, but in the Epilogue, there's a link to an original song that one character writes for the other. afrakaday, based on your requests, this is backstory, AU romantic history, and Andrea/Sharon. Happy holidays and happy new year!
CHAPTER 3
Sharon weaved her way between the students, crammed into every nook and cranny of the house. Their inane conversations were loud, but they had to be, to rise up over the music that blared. After getting beer spilled in her hair, having someone electric slide into her side, and being called "baby" no less than three times, Sharon made her way across the thirty feet of space that separated her room from Andrea's. The feat was all the more dangerous because she wore her house slippers and held a coffee mug filled with water.
She knocked on Andrea's door. No response. She knocked again, noticing a faint light coming from beneath the door. Still nothing. She guessed there was a chance Andrea had ventured out of her room into the party that Jack and Andy were throwing. Sharon was about to turn away when the door opened a crack and she saw Andrea's eyes peer out through the slim opening. They both smiled, warmly, as they made eye contact.
Andrea opened the door wider, reaching out to grab Sharon's wrist and tug playfully. Sharon hurried inside.
The room was so small, it only fit a narrow desk and a narrow mattress. But, despite everything, or maybe because of it, the room was cozy, warm, dear. It was lit with little indirect lights that Andrea had pinned around the room, where the wall met the ceiling.
"Welcome to the party antidote." Andrea smiled, motioning to her bed. "Have a seat."
Sharon obliged, wanting nothing more than to be in this small room, with Andrea. "Have you been writing?"
"Trying to," Andrea sighed, closing the open journal on her desk and taking a seat next to Sharon, on the bed.
Someone slammed against the wall just outside the room. Andrea looked horrified. "We could play a game," Sharon suggested, trying to lift Andrea's mood. "Guess what the random sounds are: drunk stumble, dance move gone bad, or intense make out session?"
"Why do I live here?" Andrea wrinkled her forehead in disgust.
"Because it's cheap,” Sharon shrugged.
"And because I never would have met you." Andrea reached out and placed her hand over the back of Sharon's hand.
Sharon turned her palm face up, entwining their fingers.
They both sighed, audibly.
"I never want to leave this room," Sharon lamented.
"Don't."
"What happens when I have to pee?"
"No more water for you." Andrea took the mug of water out of Sharon's other hand and placed it on her desk. "But seriously. You can stay here if you want."
Sharon assumed Andrea meant until the partiers wound down. But Sharon hoped Andrea actually meant all night. Or forever.
Sharon smiled. "I really like being here. With you."
"I really like being with you too," Andrea streamlined the phrase, and their feelings.
Their thumbs started caressing the back of the other person's hand.
They leaned in, and kissed softly.
Without letting go of her hand that was pleasantly entwined with Andrea's, Sharon's other hand reached around to grasp the back of Andrea's neck.
They kissed gently, but deeply, for an unknown amount of time, the sounds outside the room gradually growing fainter. Their reverence for the moment - their first true acknowledgement of their feelings - was the only thing preventing them from acting more on their mutual attraction.
They eventually got under the covers, clothes still on, entwining their bodies like they'd entwined their hands hours earlier.
✢✢✢✢✢
"How did you sleep?" Andrea smiled, as Sharon's eyelids fluttered, not yet accepting that daylight had taken the world.
Andrea had been awake for probably an hour, reveling in the feeling of being so close to Sharon physically, and emotionally. Their faces were an inch apart and Andrea had been enjoying the feeling of Sharon's breath on her face, every time the sleeping Sharon exhaled. Some part of Andrea cautioned her heart that it was too soon to feel so strongly...but she'd never cared about someone so much. She could lay next to Sharon forever and never achieve another thing. Spending time with her was fulfilling, in and of itself.
The muscles in Sharon's face awoke, as her eyes opened and she formed a lazy, content smile. "Really deeply. You?"
"Best I've ever slept in this room."
"That's pretty incredible, considering…"
"A pack of wild hyenas were on the other side of the door, tearing up our house all night?"
"Also considering this is a tiny bed."
"I liked being cuddled up with you."
"Me too."
Sharon reached up and moved a piece of Andrea's hair that had escaped her ponytail, out of her eyes. Sharon had always wanted to do that. She was about to tell Andrea just that.
"You've always wanted to do that?" Andrea read Sharon's mind.
"Yes, how did you..."
Andrea shrugged, as much as she could, considering she was laying on her side. "I could just tell. It was the way you looked at me. It was the way that look felt. Did you know I've always wanted to do this?"
Andrea slipped her arm around Sharon's side and back, every inch of movement distinctly sensual. They'd hugged before, plenty of times. But there was an energy now that had been repressed before. Sharon shivered as electricity shot up her spine. Andrea caressed her back, through her sweatshirt, lovingly.
It was as if they suddenly had permission to express the fullness of the affection they each felt. They weren't just comfortable in their vulnerability, they were comfortable because of their vulnerability. Sharon had never felt more safe. Neither had Andrea.
They scooted towards one another on the pillow they shared, close enough that their lips could find one another, once again.
The morning kiss was even more tender, more imbued with meaning. It was like an affirmation that everything that had transpired the night before was real. True. Here to stay.
After an hour of kissing, and cuddling, and taking turns spooning one another, physically inviting the other person to rest her spine against the soft belly of the other, they found themselves face to face again, breath commingling.
Smiling softly, Sharon mused, "What now?" Sharon didn't even know what she meant, exactly. It was like she'd awoken in the pages of a book, and she wasn't sure what the next page, or chapter, or volume held, but she knew she would love every minute of it. She felt more hopeful and excited about the future than she ever had in her entire life.
Sharon's seemingly innocent question struck Andrea in the gut. Andrea's expression grew serious, as she feared the worst. What now was the kind of phrase you might ask yourself after waking up and realizing you'd made a huge mistake. What now could mean, 'how do we have a clandestine relationship, and not let anyone else know we're involved.' What now could mean, 'how do we move past this, forget this moment, and still be friends.'
In high school, Andrea had fallen for a friend. The feelings seemed mutual. As soon as they kissed, Andrea imagined a whole life together opening up, but her friend backed away and backed away hard, saying she'd made a mistake, wanted to pretend the kiss hadn't happened, and couldn't be friends anymore.
"Andrea? What's wrong?" Sharon asked sympathetically, eyes searching Andrea's face for answers.
Andrea pushed herself up to a sitting posture, as if laying down was too vulnerable a position in which to receive bad news. "I'm just not sure what you mean by what now," Andrea revealed, forehead a sea of concern.
Sharon's heart understood, even if her head didn't. She assured Andrea, instinctively, sitting up and placing both hands on Andrea's knees. "I wasn't sure what I meant, either." Sharon smiled impishly, bringing her shoulders up as if asking a playful question. Her adorable shrug didn't relieve Andrea at all. Andrea was trapped in an old memory. Sharon ventured forward, fearlessly exposing her own soul, because she cared about Andrea so much, she couldn't bear to see her suffer. "Well, I can tell you some of what I meant by what now. I want to hang out with you nonstop for as long as you're game, and I'm not sure what we should choose for our next adventure."
Andrea started to lower her hackles. She made penetrating eye contact, saying softly, "What now could also mean: how do we go on being friends, and pretend like this never happened."
"You mean, pretend this never happened?" Sharon smiled deeply, understanding Andrea better by the second. Sharon leaned forward and kissed Andrea, flush on the mouth.
Andrea found herself kissing and smiling, at the same time, as it dawned on her that she was in the present moment, with Sharon, not stuck between the pages of her high school yearbook.
A thick strand of Andrea's hair fell away from her ponytail and down across her face, this time tickling Sharon's cheek as it fell. Without breaking the kiss, Sharon attempted to place the hair over Andrea's ear. They broke off their kiss as Sharon giggled.
"Here's an answer to what now, for you." Andrea said with a smirk, overtly nonchalant, trying on this new way of being with Sharon. "I've been wanting to cut my hair. Will you help me?"
Sharon grinned. Andrea’s request was so normalizing. That’s what made it so perfect. They didn't need to make grand proclamations, not now, not today. To show how they felt about one another, they just needed to make a continuous series of small, meaningful gestures that kept them spending time with one another and growing with each other. To Sharon, this everyday task of cutting hair was like a portent of things to come. It meant they could have life together: every part of life. The miraculous, and the mundane. Sharon was momentarily lost in the daydream of doing everything with Andrea, from now on.
"Well?" Andrea prompted; this time she was the one to smile playfully. "What do you say?"
"I’ve never cut hair before!" Sharon let out a barely stifled burst of laughter.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Andrea deadpanned, shrugging a single shoulder.
Sharon raised her eyebrows, as if to say, 'you very much know how bad it could be.'
They broke into laughter, rolling onto their backs and clutching their bellies, before rolling back together, Sharon kissing Andrea's forehead, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"I'm game if you are," Sharon said seriously, sitting up. "But first, we need to inspect the damage." Sharon tilted her head toward the rest of the house.
✢✢✢✢✢
"Shoes!" Sharon directed, realizing they both needed to put on shoes before stepping into the potentially sticky kitchen.
They opened the door to Andrea's room cautiously, as if they weren't sure what wild animal carcasses they might find, strewn about.
The first thing Sharon noticed was the odor.
"Oh god, close your door! We don't want that smell invading your sanctuary."
In contrast to the sublime, softly lit room, where everything felt like a relic on a sacred altar, the entire downstairs of their shared house was littered with red plastic cups, empty alcohol bottles, and articles of clothing.
They tiptoed around, as if entering a crime scene, scoping it out to see if it was clear.
Sharon took the living room, Andrea took the side room; they met on the other side of both, in the hallway. They looked at one another and shrugged.
They glanced in the bathroom, pulling back the shower curtain. All clear.
They opened the door to Sharon's room. Miraculously, it looked untouched.
Sharon sighed, audibly. "Thank god. I was sure there'd be someone making out in here. Or at least evidence that someone had." But Sharon's bed looked impeccably made, just the way she'd left it.
Andrea stepped carefully into Sharon's room, removing her shoes at the doorway and closing the door behind her.
"Looks pristine," Andrea said, looking at Sharon's bed carefully before turning around and smiling at Sharon. "Still, we should get you a padlock for next time."
Sharon shrugged. Suddenly there were things much more important in life than keeping her room as organized as a Dewey decimal system. "Ready for that hair cut?" Sharon grinned, picking the up the scissors on her desk.
✢✢✢✢✢
They put a chair in the middle of Sharon's room.
"I don't know exactly. I just want it shorter."
"Oh my god, I can't believe you trust me."
"I do."
Sharon was used to being responsible for other people, taking care of them, being the person they could lean on. But when Andrea said she trusted her, it felt different. It wasn't the feeble proclamation from another hanger on. It was like permission for Sharon to trust the equally strong Andrea, in turn.
Before Sharon could respond, Andrea turned forward again and said, "Okay, I'm ready."
"Aren't we being a little cavalier?"
"Learn by doing,” Andrea shrugged.
"Wait, you don't want to get little bits of hair all over your clothes. It'll be a pain to get rid of." Sharon blushed after the words left her mouth, aware of the implied solution.
"You are adorable," Andrea smiled, looking up at her. "That wasn't a ploy. You are actually worried about the hair bits getting in my clothes."
Sharon nodded, timidly.
"I love that about you. You're so…" Andrea gave Sharon a look of overacted seduction, rolling the word around her tongue. "…careful." The tension burst as they both started laughing.
Sharon let herself fall onto the loveseat, clutching her stomach with laughter, but not before carefully placing the scissors on her nightstand.
"See?" Andrea pointed out as they fell into an even deeper fit of laughter.
"Okay, but in all seriousness." Sharon raised her eyebrows towards Andrea, trying to sound nonchalant, even as she felt herself becoming aroused, at the prospect. "I'm just being practical here."
"Sharon," Andrea looked at her saucily. A growing smile revealed her desire, before she said it. "If I'm getting naked, you are too."
✢✢✢✢✢
An hour later, Andrea's blond hair was strewn across Sharon's floor.
"I love it," she exclaimed, looking in Sharon's handheld mirror.
Sharon suspected hair cuts didn't usually take an hour and a half. And they usually didn't take place in one's underwear. Or with your barber in her underwear.
"Okay, I'm just going to be honest here…" Sharon started.
"Another thing I love about you," Andrea interrupted, looking up at Sharon with an expression of adoration. "Your commitment to honesty."
Sharon felt herself turn red, and for the first time in her life she had reason to wonder whether other parts of her body blushed, besides her cheeks.
Andrea knew it was hard for Sharon to accept compliments of any kind. "Like I've always said, you are great at giving but you stink at receiving. Just accept that you are awesome in so many ways."
Sharon shyly shook her head, at a loss for words.
Andrea continued. "Okay, go ahead. What were you going to be honest about?"
"I was going to say, this not wearing clothes thing might not have been the best idea."
"I think it's awesome. Now I have about a hundred more things I love about you." Andrea lifted her fingers and started bending them back one-by-one, as if ticking off the first five on her list. "Your collarbones, your belly button, the curve of your butt right there."
"Oh my god, you're making me shy!" Sharon exclaimed, at some level wishing she was wearing more than her bra and panties; at another level wishing she was wearing less.
"No, no, please. I don't mean to embarrass you, Sharon. That's the last thing I want to do. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. I'm just not used to being complimented by someone who's opinion I actually care about."
"You're used to being adored by people you don't respect?"
"Exactly."
They shared a knowing grin.
"I'm honored that you care what I think," Andrea said, seriously.
"Are you kidding?" Sharon burst. "You're, you're amazing. I've never actually cared what anyone thought, until I met you. I love you." It just tumbled out of her. A look of terror crossed her face as she realized what she'd said.
Before Sharon could turn her self-shock into real panic, Andrea said slowly, deliberately, "I love you, too."
Sharon put down the scissors as Andrea stood up.
They stepped into one another's arms, hands on one another's cheek, jaw, neck.
This time, their kiss carried a fervent heat, not just a smoldering warmth. Their mouths opened and their tongues danced, tasting one another. Sharon made "mmmm" sounds, unable to hide her pleasure.
Sharon broke away and panted, catching her breath.
"So, what were you saying about nakedness being a bad idea?" Andrea said with her familiar tone of teasing sarcasm.
"I was going to tell you, that I was so distracted by your body, I don't think I did a good job with your hair."
"You were going to tell me that?"
"I was working up the courage to, yes."
"Well, I think you did a great job." Andrea shook her head vigorously so her now shorter than shoulder length hair flew up in the hair and fell down again, adjusting itself.
"You should shower off,” Sharon suggested, practically. "I can always do touch up later, if need be."
"Good idea," Andrea smiled.
"You can borrow my towel," Sharon offered.
"Thanks. But fair warning: I may get little bits of hair all over it."
"That's okay," Sharon smiled. "Totally worth it."
✢✢✢✢✢
Sharon heard Andrea close the bathroom door down the hall and start the shower.
Sharon lay back on her bed, exhausted from the act of not consummating their relationship. She closed her eyes and imagined Andrea's lips on her own again. Then, she imagined them on her ear, her throat, her collarbone. "Mmmmm," Sharon heard herself murmur. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, shocked by the indiscretion of her own imagination.
She could hear the water running down the hall and pictured a fully naked Andrea, rubbing herself in the shower. Sharon felt her mouth go dry, as it hit her just how much she wanted to make love to Andrea. She wanted to be as close as possible, to learn the secrets of their bodies, to express everything she felt but couldn't articulate. She wanted to show Andrea how much she cared. And she wanted to be completely vulnerable, in turn. Sharon's eyes fell closed again, dwelling in a warm, all encompassing daydream for an unknown amount of time, until she heard a gentle knock on her door.
"Come in," Sharon called. She suddenly realized she was still laying on her back, staring at the ceiling. She sat up so hurriedly, she knocked a pillow off her immaculate bed just as Andrea walked in. Flustered, Sharon crossed her legs, casually.
Andrea smirked good naturedly, and made a show of looking around suspiciously, as if she was interrupting something. Then, with a similarly forced casualness, Andrea unwrapped the towel from her body; standing in her bra and underwear again, she reached out to hang the towel on the wall hook. Andrea missed the hook and the towel fell towards the floor. Sharon stifled a giggle. Andrea caught the towel, and on her second attempt, managed to hang it. But there was no doubt about it: Andrea was conspicuously flush and flustered, as if something was on her mind, too. "Thanks for the towel," Andrea said, her throat sounding parched.
"Don't mention it." Sharon choked on her words.
"I'm going to get dressed now," Andrea declared.
Sharon nodded.
"And then I'm going to clean up your room," Andrea continued.
"Oh! I..." Sharon stammered, "I…" Typical Sharon behavior would have been to sweep up the loose hair, as quickly as possible. It was obvious she had been so distracted by something, she hadn't bothered to clean up.
"No need to explain…" Andrea shook her head, biting the inside of her lower lip to prevent herself from breaking into a knowing grin as she mentally noted the slightly mussed bed. She modestly turned her back to Sharon as she pulled her hoody and shorts over her underwear.
Andrea and Sharon each smiled to themselves, confident they were on the same page in terms of another possible answer to what now.
✢✢✢✢✢
The rest of that semester was like a dream. Sharon had never been so happy.
They usually spent the night in Andrea's cozy room, made breakfast together, went to their respective classes, then met up in the library where they sat side-by-side, holding hands while they studied, and playing footsie under the table. In the evenings, they'd hang out in Sharon's room, perched on her loveseat, bed, or floor, talking and laughing, confessing fears, vulnerabilities, and dreams.
Sharon shared about her family, in ways she never had with anyone. Andrea talked about her past too, sharing about old girlfriends and boyfriends, revealing that because she lost her parents at a young age, she had an especially strong desire to bond with someone else. Andrea hinted at her fear that she was living out that habit, even now. After all, her day started and ended with Sharon on her mind. Even in her dreams they were together; exploring the world, exploring each other.
So, Sharon broached the concept of them moving more slowly, being more casual, maybe not spending every day and every night together, not because she wanted to change anything about their current rhythm, but because she wanted Andrea to feel comfortable. She wanted Andrea to be acting out of love, not trauma. "Maybe it would help us to think about the normal speed of relationship development. Let's think about how normal people date each other, in terms of cadence, frequency, intensity," Sharon suggested.
Andrea loved feeling seen, heard, and understood by Sharon. She realized that with this much awareness of one another and this much attentiveness to their own hearts, she had nothing to fear. "I might have forced things with other people in the past, but that doesn't mean what we have isn't profoundly real. And it doesn't mean we need to change what's working and what's making us happy. I'm perfectly content being abnormal, if you're okay being abnormal with me," Andrea grinned. "Besides, have you ever done anything casually, in your entire life?" It was Andrea's turn to show Sharon how much she saw and understood about Sharon.
Sharon made a show of searching her memory bank. "No," she said conclusively, grinning at where Andrea's line of logic was taking them.
"So," Andrea shrugged, "we can pretend we're going to take it slow, if you want. But I think we'll just be fooling ourselves."
Andrea was like a divining rod of truth. Sharon tackled Andrea, pushing them back against Andrea's bed, pressing her lips against Andrea's mouth.
After a minute of fervent kisses, Sharon came up for air. She propped herself on one elbow and shrugged her other shoulder as she looked down at Andrea's contented smile. "Slow is a relative concept. So, we can take it slow for us," Sharon nodded decisively. "That doesn't mean it's slow compared to the rest of the world."
"Sounds good to me," Andrea laughed, pulling Sharon back down, on top of her.
✢✢✢✢✢
This Thanksgiving morning, Sharon was flooded with gratitude...
...and other sensations.
Sharon arched her spine, eyes rolling back in her head, grateful that for once she didn't need to muffle her own moan.
Their only housemate whose room was also on the ground floor, had left yesterday to spend Thanksgiving with his family. Eric's mom, Professor Magnussen, taught at their school, so for him, going home for holidays was as convenient as driving across town.
And that glorious reality was why Sharon could let her lips fall apart as her knees did, unconstrained sounds of ecstasy filling the small room. Andrea, for her part, was grateful to hear the fullness of Sharon's voice; it was like a jolt of impassioned electricity that infused her with a new surge of energy.
Sharon's eyelids fluttered open, for only seconds at a time, the world becoming a series of gorgeous still photographs.
And she was grateful for all she saw.
In the background, the snow decorated the big tree outside Andrea's window. In the foreground, Andrea was nestled between her legs, tirelessly dedicated to her mission of giving Sharon pleasure.
"Dear god, Andrea, mmmm..."
Sharon's eyes snapped open and her jaw snapped shut, as she heard a commotion, on the other side of the bedroom wall. Sharon reached down and touched Andrea on the shoulder, just as Andrea paused, apparently noticing the voices, too.
Andrea looked up along the length of Sharon's rising and falling abdomen as they made eye contact. Sharon pressed a finger to her mouth. Andrea nodded, kissing the inside of Sharon's thigh, gently, as a way of mutually bookmarking the scene.
They got dressed, wordlessly. When they were ready, Andrea opened her door and they stepped into the mayhem.
Their housemates were assembled, dressed in coats, hats, and mittens, as if layered up for an outing. But they were either agitated or cold, because they hopped from foot to foot, and rubbed their hands together, briskly.
"Was the heat off down here all night, too?" Clare asked.
Andrea and Sharon looked at one another blankly, then shrugged at their housemates.
"We should take a page out of your book," Hannah smirked, reading her housemates like open volumes. "The heat breaks in the middle of winter and you two don't even notice." Her wink was teasing, yet congratulatory.
Despite the cold air starting to seep into Sharon's skin now that they had left their cozy haven, she felt herself turning red. They'd told their housemates as soon as they'd started dating. But Sharon wasn't showy. She liked attention for her academic accomplishments, not her personal life. So although she was deeply proud of what she and Andrea had, she didn't want their relationship in anyone's viewfinder.
Andrea sensed Sharon's unease, and quickly stepped toward the fridge, pulling it open dramatically. "Wow, it feels like it's warmer inside the fridge than outside." The proclamation had the desired effect and the smirks evaporated from their housemates' faces as they became consumed by this new, outrageous fact.
Sharon smiled at Andrea, gratefully. Then, Sharon's eyes grew wide as something else occurred to her. Sharon moved towards the turkey she'd left on the kitchen counter to defrost. She'd intended to cook them a house Thanksgiving dinner, but as she knocked her knuckles against the large bird, she marveled aloud. "It refroze!" She broke into a loud, unapologetic laugh.
Their landlord turned out to be unreachable over the Thanksgiving holiday. So, Eric's mom invited everyone to come and stay for a few days. Everyone gratefully accepted, excited about the novelty of camping out on Professor Magnussen's livingroom floor. Everyone accepted, except for Sharon and Andrea, that is.
Eric swung by in his car and picked up their housemates for the quick jaunt across town. Sharon and Andrea helped carry their housemates' sleeping bags to the front door.
"Have fun," Hannah winked, stepping onto the front porch and closing the door behind her. The door reopened, a second later. Hannah stuck her head back in. "I mean, thanks for watching the house." She smiled more softly and closed the door again, obviously not wanting to embarrass her housemates. Sharon and Andrea heard Hannah thunder down the steps and jump into Eric's car with the rest of their pals.
"We live with good people," Andrea said aloud, as Sharon nodded.
✢✢✢✢✢
Their housemates didn't mind the growing closeness between Sharon and Andrea. In fact, the joy that emanated from the Andrea and Sharon partnership was contagious. Their housemates seemed happy to bask in it.
One night, just after midterms, Clare brought home extra tubs of ice cream from a mock trial event she'd thrown. She declared it an impromptu ice cream party for the house. They all gathered in the upstairs living room, clinking spoons, passing around the tubs, not bothering to divide the contents into individual bowls. Besides, it was more fun this way. Eric promised to regale them with stories of Professor intrigue that he'd heard from his mom, but he made everyone swear not to pass on the tales. They solemnly swore their oath by each taking a simultaneous bite of chocolate ice cream.
Andrea and Sharon sat in an armchair. Andrea was set deeper in the chair, her back against its back. Sharon leaned languidly against Andrea, her head relaxed and resting on Andrea's shoulder, except for when she sat up to stick her spoon in a tub and merrily eat a bite, or, when she threw her head forward in shock or laughter, at one of Eric's retellings.
Andrea kissed Sharon's forehead with sticky lips and whispered, "Babe, can you get up, I've gotta pee."
When Andrea had left the room, Sharon pulled her legs under her and nestled more deeply into the chair, her spine still relaxed, her curved body reminiscent of a lounging cat.
Jack carried the tub of strawberry over and held it out for Sharon, since Andrea's long arms were temporarily missing from the passing circle, and since it seemed like a shame to make Sharon get up when she looked so comfortable. Sharon thanked him with a smile and dug her spoon in.
Jack smiled back and started talking in a low voice. "Sharon, I don't want to make you self-conscious, so just tell me to stop if you don't want to hear it, but..."
"Go ahead, Jack," Sharon prompted, truly at ease with whatever he might be hesitating to say.
"See, case in point!" He waved his spoon in her direction. "The Sharon I first met, back in high school, the Sharon I knew even last year, that Sharon would have been concerned about what I was going to say, what anyone was going to say, especially if it was going to be about her. That Sharon was worried and nervous, all the time. That Sharon was sad." Jack shook his head as if shaking off the memories. "You had it rough Sharon. I know we never talked about it because I didn't want to embarrass you. But it wasn't fair how much was on your shoulders." Sharon noticed his fists clench and unclench, unthinkingly, at his side. "You worked so hard, harder than any kid should. Anyway, I don't want to make you self-conscious or anything." Sharon blinked at Jack, wondering if it was the lighting in the room, or whether his eyes were actually glassy. He turned his head slightly and she concluded that it wasn't the lightning: a thin veil of moisture coated his eyes.
"All I'm trying to say is, you deserved to have fun, to be happy. You've always deserved that. I was obviously not the lug head for you." He pretended to knock himself in the head with his spoon, self-deprecatingly. "But I've never been so happy for someone else. Whatever you have with Andrea, keep it, hang on to it, go with it, roll with it, whatever you want to say, but just, just know that you've got something good. Something good for you, I mean. You're happy. You're happy all the time, and I'd never seen you truly happy even once before. Ever. Winning state wasn't happiness; it was like pain relief after a long ordeal. This, this is something else."
Sharon pushed herself up, perching on the arm of the armchair, wrapping her arms around Jack in a hug. He couldn't hug back, because of the tub in his hand, and because her affection took him by surprise. "Thank you," she whispered, before letting him go.
"Strawberry!" Hannah called, realizing they were going to have a pileup of tubs at one end of the room, if Jack didn't pass the ice cream to the next person.
✢✢✢✢✢
In the spring, Sharon got strep throat and Andrea took care of her.
"Sharon O'Dwyer, you are so talented at so many things. It breaks my heart to say this, but you are terrible at being a sick person."
Sharon started laugh-coughing. "How could I be terrible at being sick? Look at me; I am sick. I couldn't be more sick if I tried."
"Yes, you are sick and what sick people do is lay in bed and get waited on. And that is what I am doing for you. Right now. So, get back in bed, you."
"Okay, okay!" Sharon stepped away from the kitchen cabinets, put down the pot in her hand, and got back in bed. In Andrea's bed, to be precise. Andrea sat on the edge of it, near Sharon's arms.
"Strep throat is contagious. I read about it," Sharon warned.
"Well, I won't be sucking on your tonsils in the near future, that's for sure."
"But you could get sick from my coughing..." Sharon coughed, as if inspired by her own power of suggestion.
"And I am choosing to take that risk, okay? Now, quiet. Someone needs rest and all your talking is keeping her up."
Miraculously, Andrea never did get sick that season. And Sharon experienced something she never had before: someone truly caring for her, without strings attached. So, despite the fact that she was missing lectures, and had to call in sick to her library job, she actually felt remarkably settled, happy, and safe. So did Andrea. And during one of their late night conversations, Andrea revealed that she felt ready to ride a bike again. Her motivation was that she really, really wanted to ride places together. She nearly squealed with delight when she described how much fun it could be to pack picnics and ride to the state park on the edge of town.
So, when Sharon got better, Sharon bought two used bikes from a secondhand store, scrubbed them down as best she could, and before going to bed, leaned them against the big tree in the backyard, as a surprise.
In the morning, when Andrea awoke, Sharon was already sitting up, looking out the window.
"Morning. You're chipper this morning." Andrea assessed Sharon's body language, groggily.
"It's a beautiful day," Sharon said, smiling down at the sleepy-eyed Andrea.
Andrea sat up with effort and joined Sharon in looking out the window. After about ten seconds of slowly taking in the day, Andrea remarked, "Hey, who's bikes are those?"
"Hmm, maybe we should go find out," Sharon said, raising her eyebrows and one shoulder, cheekily.
Andrea woke up the rest of the way, in an instant. "Sharon?" Andrea didn't want to get her hopes up too much if she'd misinterpreted, but then again, Sharon's face was easy to read when she wanted it to be. Andrea started pulling on her sweatpants and t-shirt, not bothering with underwear.
Sharon followed suit, getting dressed quickly and following Andrea out of the room, then out of the backdoor of the house.
There were two tags attached to the bikes.
One said: "Andrea. Here's to the rides we'll take and the places we'll go."
The other said: "I treasure everywhere we've already been, on our side-by-side adventures."
Andrea looked at Sharon, tears in her eyes.
"And," Sharon added, "The bikes are unique. One of a kind, you could say. So, you get to test drive them and pick which one is yours."
They went inside to put on more suitable clothes, then came back out and wheeled the bikes to the empty lot a street over.
Sharon brought tools and adjusted the seats and handlebars to fit Andrea perfectly. Sharon could tell Andrea was nervous, because Andrea was determinedly wearing her most impassive expression.
Andrea got on one of the bikes for a test ride. After a few wobbly turns of the handlebars, something seemed to click, her labored pumping became smooth, and she started riding confident circles around a beaming Sharon.
CHAPTER 4...