Porn!
Well, porn in need of some minor tweaking, but still porn.
Monday AM edit: 'Tis been tweaked, and probably could use more tweaking, but I'm tired and it's going to be a long week at work, so, this stands as is.
Title: The Lists
Pairing: Anna/Summer
Rating: R
Summary: Someone’s going to find out who’s been naughty, and who’s been nice. I, for one, vote “naughty.”
Disclaimer: Summer, Anna, and the celebrities they want to sleep with do not belong to me.
Dedication: For Shima, who will not admit to reading my boy/boy smut. Consider this a substitution for your dream of watching Cassie and I make out. Unbetaed, cause Sister Shma is one impatient motherfucker.
The Lists
There were a handful of things Anna didn’t mind about living in Newport. Sitting outside on a December day in a short skirt, fitted t-shirt, and black velvet blazer, for one. If she were still in Pittsburgh, earmuffs and a fluffy parka would be the uniform de rigeur, and the spiral bound notebook open in front of her would be spotted with snowflakes.
But Anna wasn’t in Pittsburgh anymore, Toto.
Instead, she was sprawled on her stomach on a picnic table in the middle of the Harbor School quad, writing non-rhyming couplets and waiting for Seth to drag his skinny ass out of Mr. Bellhorn’s calc class and meet her so they could walk to Lit Mag together.
If Anna hadn’t met Seth Cohen, he of the dimples, comic books and lack of confidence, (and, along with the copious sunshine, another of Newport’s noted assets), sailing back from Tahiti would have been a much bigger drag than it was. So to return to town and find him even further twined around Summer’s perfectly manicured little finger was nothing short of a letdown.
In a way, Anna chastised herself, it was probably somewhat her fault that Seth had gone from mere puppy-dog long distance affection for Summer to sexually-charged sparring over blackened breakfast toast on a trip to TJ. Advising dorky-yet-cute boys of the secret powers of confidence was something of a double edged sword. When you left them to their own devices, they could become That Guy at the drop of a hat.
After the whole Thanksgiving make-out debacle, Anna had more than wondered if That Guy-dom was in Seth’s future. But then he’d been all cute with the heartfelt apologies and askew shirt and Anna had decided to throw caution to the wind and give him another chance. Even if it seemed as though Summer was doing the same.
Anna’s nose wrinkled with something resembling distaste. Obviously, despite its rare weather-and-boy-associated charms, Newport still had plenty of things to add to Anna’s list of “Things to Avoid,” an elaborate collection of items that included, but was not limited to: factory raised poultry; drug store hair color; the later novels of Anne Rice; Martha Stewart endorsed products; voting Republican; Gap clothing; sleeping for less than 7 hours a night; and fraternity boys bearing cups of trash can punch. Anna mentally penciled Summer’s name at the foot of the list, with the subheadings “includes talking to, shopping with, sharing floss with, thinking about, running into on purpose, etc.”
The main snag in the whole avoiding issue was that thinking about Seth (which she enjoyed doing immensely) always seemed to lead to her thinking about Summer (which irritated like sand in a bathing suit, always chafing in the wrong places). Thinking about Summer led to wanting to see Summer, and pretty soon Anna was creeping around school feeling like one of the bad-haired stalkers that populated that ostensibly “family” drama Seventh Heaven.
Wait. Forget penciling. What Summer’s entry on the list needed was a bold black sharpie.
All of this wouldn’t have been so wrong on its own, she mused, if her reasons for wanting to see Summer were related to wanting to see Summer embarrass herself by tripping on a banana peel or using “disingenuous” incorrectly in a sentence. But somewhere during Anna’s brief alliance with she of the Valley intonation, between playing with Seth and amusing herself, she’d discovered that she actually *liked* Summer.
More than liked.
Getting Summer out of her head was like trying to shake the chorus of catchy-yet-annoying pop song lyrics. Maybe it was the way Summer bit at the corner of her lip when she was nervous or unsure about something. Or the way her waist curved in softly, letting cashmere sweaters cling just so. Maybe it was her fierce determination when it came to the whole Seth issue, which shouldn’t have been sexy, but somehow was. Or the fact that, god forbid, she actually had a wry sense of humor under her shallow facade, unlike most of the vapid Harbor School bimbos, like Holly or Brittany or all the other girls whose names ended in “-y.”
Anna looked down at her page to see that she had begun doodling Summer’s name in the margins in heavy black ballpoint. Convincing herself that it was because of her Avoidance List was hard, because the points on her list didn’t usually have little hearts and flowers traced around them.
Anna wasn’t even a hearts and flowers kind of *girl*. Damn that Summer.
She hurriedly slammed the neon blue cover shut and poked her pen into the wire coil when she spotted Seth striding across campus towards her.
Anna swung her legs around to a seated position and tucked her notebook into her bag. Seth smiled widely and offered a hand to pull her to her feet.
“Sorry I’m late, Mr. Bellhorn was getting all poetic about equations and I was like, dude, I have my own poetry to attend to, the good kind, that doesn’t include numbers. Or, well, maybe not the *good* kind, but the moderately okay kind that rhymes words with Nantucket…” Seth trailed off.
Tilting her head as they stood beside the table, Anna half-grinned at Seth’s babbling from under the fringe of her hair.
“I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” He shrugged his t-shirt clad shoulders sheepishly.
Anna’s half smile broke into a full one as she watched Seth’s face scrunch up in mock-embarassment. “Eh, on you, it’s cute. Let’s just go, okay?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Summer making her way across the other side of campus, head following Anna and Seth’s progress. Summer’s head snapped forward and she quickened her pace when it became apparent Anna was watching her back.
Seth. Seth. Not Summer. Seth.
Right. This was going to work. Probably.
* * *
Summer wanted to hate Anna Stern. By all rights, she *should* have hated Anna. It was against all of her principles to actually *like* Anna Stern. Except Summer’s principles of late had suddenly gone all Tikki Tikki Tembo down a well.
First Seth Cohen, then Anna Stern, who had spontaneously appeared all dark roots and checked wristcuff and stolen not just one but *two* of Summer’s potential cotillion dates, Summer mused as Suki applied warm bright blue wax to her left eyebrow.
It wasn’t like she was *obsessed* with Anna. Or Seth Cohen, for that matter. It was just that she couldn’t stop thinking about either of them. And that was, like, a totally different thing from obsession, right?
“No scrunching.” Suki waved a latex-gloved hand at Summer’s face. “You want hair left, yes?”
Summer relaxed her forehead. “Sorry.”
But the truth was, there was nothing more brow-furrowing than the recent events in Summer’s life. She had might as well turn in her membership card to Newport’s elite right then and there, because the way she was going, pretty soon they were going to kick her out. Granted, they’d be doing the kicking with an exquisite strappy Jimmy Choo. But still.
There were so many things to hate about Anna, beginning with her fashion sense. Her flippy Boys-Don’t-Cry haircut. Her refusal to watch mainstream movies unless they were based on a comic book or had received an Oscar nomination. Her relentless pursuit of Seth Cohen.
That last one was really a nail file in the gut. Fighting for her men wasn’t foreign to Summer, who typically won them and then discarded them once their credit cards were maxed out. But Seth Cohen was different.
Being forced to share him with someone like Anna was different.
Because if Anna kept making out with Seth, like Summer thought she might have been, then Summer would have to keep thinking about Seth making out with Anna when he was actually making out with Summer, which was fine except for the fact that it made Summer think about *Anna* making out with Summer, when her mind should have been on making out with Seth….
It was a vicious circle that made her head hurt, like that episode of Friends with the “They don’t know we know they know we know…” Summer so didn’t want to be Joey. She fancied herself more of a Rachel girl anyway.
With a final painful yank, Suki turned away and then held a mirror up to Summer’s face so she could inspect. “All done. What a pretty girl.”
“Yeah, thanks Suki.” Summer said distractedly, fishing in her Louis Vuitton purse for a tip. “Doesn’t hurt at all when she’s waxing you, my ass,” she muttered as she pushed her way through the frosted glass doors of the spa and made her way to the front desk.
Ass waxing. That was something she was glad she’d never have to look into. Although there were some guys she knew who probably should…
Her mind strayed back to Anna, her occasional partner in crime and fellow tormentor of Seth Cohen. Anna and her stupid mneumonics about “good sex” and her hilariously droll remarks about the mall-walkers down at South Coast and the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed, making Summer’s stomach flutter.
Good girls from Orange County didn’t like dorks, unless they were rich dorks, and Summer could cope with the whole Cohen issue simply by putting him in that category. Even if the situation wasn’t going to help her popularity any.
But good girls from Orange County definitely didn’t like other girls. Especially not imports from the 909 of the East. Especially especially not imports with questionable wardrobes that were pseudo-dating the guy you were also interested in.
After signing her receipt in purple ball-point, Summer squared her jaw and swiped on her sunglasses before walking outside. She had done it before to the girls who encroached on her territory, and she’d have do it again. Force-outs weren’t pretty, but Anna needed to get away from her man-boy-like man-and out of Summer’s head once and for all.
And she had to do it soon, before her resolve crumbled and she was parading around school in rainbows like some extra on Ellen.
Anything to stop the recurrent dreams she was having about sneaking into Anna’s bedroom at night and kissing her while she slept.
Because good girls from the O.C. *definitely* didn’t do that.
* * *
Sharp knocking at her bedroom window roused Anna from where she lay on top the covers of her bed, clad in her official lounging uniform of pink tank top and striped silk pajama bottoms. As usual, her notebook was in front of her, pen once again poised in hand. One didn’t become a famous writer by slacking off.
And one didn’t get good Christmas presents without first making a list.
When she finally looked through the shadowy glass to see Summer opening a hand in an impatient wave, her heart leaped, but her brain made her force out a groan. Curse her parents for giving into the realtor and buying a Spanish-style ranch with ground level windows. Moreover, Anna cursed herself for inviting Summer over for iced chai last week after their South Coast Plaza excursion.
One’s worst enemies and secret crushes should never find out where you lived. Especially when both categories inhabited the same pert little body.
Anna dragged herself out of bed, took three steps across her green carpet, and pushed up the sash of the window, bringing scents of ocean air and Summer’s lavender perfume. “Hey.” Summer offered in greeting.
Anna stepped back from the window and eyed Summer warily. “So, to what do I owe this Joey Potter moment?”
“Please. That girl has, like, issues.” Summer zinged as she clambered over the sill, managing it rather adeptly for someone wearing three inch platforms and a short skirt. “And while we’re at it, she needs a straightening iron, stat. Because the frizz? Doesn’t work on anyone.”
Anna, stolidly resolving to ignore Summer despite her overwhelming physical and olfactory presence, settled back belly down on her Indian-print spread and, inhaling deeply, returned her attention to her spiral.
“So, what are you doing?” Summer inquired, sounding suspiciously like the eager five-year-old Anna used to babysit back in Pittsburgh.
“Making a Christmas list.” Anna responded dryly, her attention squarely on the blue lined page in front of her.
“What, are you eight?”
Anna’s head snapped up and she glared at Summer through perfectly kohl-rimmed eyes. “I like lists.” Her lips shaped the words precisely, like an x-acto knife. “They add order and predictability to your life.”
Summer appeared as though she may have been suppressing an eye-roll, but Anna chose to ignore it. Just like she was choosing to ignore everything else. Right. “Well, the only list I’ve made is the five celebrities I’d sleep with.” Summer offered.
“Rachel Leigh Cook, Zooey Deschanel, Liz Phair, Christina Ricci and Anne Sexton circa 1969, *before* she downed handfuls of sleeping pills, obviously.” Anna rattled off tonelessly without a moment’s hesitation.
“Those are like, all girls.” Summer snorted dismissively, but her voice seemed to catch on the last word. If Anna had listened hard enough, she might have found reason to read into it, but instead she plowed headlong into her rebuttal.
“Your point?” Anna’s words were a challenge, and her eyes narrowed. Suddenly thinking the better of her statement, she started to speak again, preventing a response from a momentarily shell-shocked Summer. “Why are you here, anyway?”
Anna’s voice sounded cattier than she’d intended. But whatever. The better to keep Anna away out of trouble, and away from bad thoughts that had absolutely nothing to do with five certain celebrities. Or Seth Cohen.
Summer’s eyes clouded in confusion, and she spoke hesitantly. “I’m…not sure.”
“Way to plan, Summer. Sounds like you’re getting along just swimmingly without lists.” When ignoring failed to rid you of your problems, go with sarcasm.
Summer pursed her lips and delicately placed a hand on her hip, as if she were posing for Sak’s winter catalogue. “Okay. Fine. I want to you stay away from Seth Cohen.”
Summer’s command sounded less, well, commanding, and more like a question.
Anna’s head shook back and forth of its own accord. She rolled onto her back and propped herself up on her elbows, raising an eyebrow. “And that was so important that you had to invade my bedroom at ten p.m on a school night?”
Summer’s mouth curled down at the corners contemplatively. “Can I…?” She motioned to the corner of the bed, and receiving no signal either way from Anna, sat down and began nibbling on the corner of her lip as Anna watched.
“Did you really mean what you said? About the celebrities?”
“I guess. As much as one can mean anything.” What a moment to get philosophical, Stern, she thought to herself. Her heart pounded curiously as she awaited Summer’s response.
“So…you like girls?”
“And boys.” Anna articulated and paused, looking intently at Summer, as if she could discern her intentions with a well placed gaze. “Given that we’re not friends, why should this matter? Or are you going to use this as another piece of ammunition against me among the Harbor junior Newpsies? Because we’ve already had one Outing in the past week. I don’t know if the rumor mill would know what to do with a second one.”
“No…” Summer began uncertainly.
“Well, I’m not going to stay away from Seth either. So why don’t you just run home and pick out your outfit for tomorrow?” Anna, hackles raised, wished she felt the conviction her words conveyed. Not about Seth, even though she had no intention of doing that. It was the “running home” that stymied her.
However, Summer had apparently picked up Anna’s habit of ignoring statements she deemed blatantly unnecessary, in order to get to the heart of the matter. “So…you’ve kissed girls before.”
“Yeah.” Anna’s word was short, clipped, her shoulders tense.
“So, what’s it like?” Summer’s intonation was curious, not invasive, and Anna began to settle back into her pillows, an unreadable expression flitting across her face.
“Like kissing boys. Only less tall.”
“Oh.”
“Well, less tall for the most part.”
“Have you kissed a lot of girls?” Summer’s words quieted with every sentence she spoke.
Anna shook her head, and pursed her lips in something resembling a smile. “Not a lot. Have you?”
“No. I mean. Not any.” Summer’s voice stilted, but her face was soft, and Anna pressed her hand down consciously on the gold-embroidered comforter to prevent from reaching out and stroking Summer’s pink cheek.
“Oh?”
“I mean, I’m not all Ew! about it, it’s just not something we. Generally do. Here.” Summer’s words were even more broken up than they had been in her last statement, but at least she seemed to have regained volume.
“Well, it’s not something “we” generally do in Pittsburgh, either.” Anna’s fingernails scratched impatiently at her bed before she decided to fuck it all and dive right in. It wasn’t as though she’d have a friend to lose in the morning. “But, if you ever wanted to I bet there are some girls here who wouldn’t mind. I mean…” She let her voice trail off as she sat up and watched Summer expectantly.
Summer’s cheeks flushed even brighter as she realized the gist of Anna’s proposition. To Anna’s surprise and delight, Summer’s body language betrayed whatever classic Newport upbringing she had as she leaned fractionally towards Anna.
“Well, I mean, who’s not up for introducing new things to the community? If nothing else, it’ll be good leverage if Cohen ever dicks us both over again. Right?” Summer joked cautiously.
It was as if the girls were two points plotted distantly on the same graph, and Seth was the line that had unwittingly had joined them together. For better or for worse, to borrow a phrase from antiquated ceremony. But he served to make their actions blameless.
At that moment Anna was pretty sure she loved Seth Cohen.
“Right.” Anna echoed. She ran her tongue across her bottom lip and, closing her eyes, slowly leaned in and met Summer’s mouth.
Anna felt Summer inhale sharply at the touch of her lips before she settled into the kiss, opening her mouth slightly. Summer tasted like grapes and the butterscotch candy Anna’s great-grandma used to give her when she visited, and when their heads parted, Summer’s gloss clung to Anna’s lips.
“Not so bad, huh?” Anna smiled, her breath catching behind her larynx.
Summer’s head moved a little from side to side, taking Anna in before pressing her lips against Anna’s once again.
Anna felt it this time, now that Summer was the one pressed against her, tongue reaching delicately past Anna’s lips to brush hers, now that she’d started it, that slow burn in her stomach creeping up and down and out, over nipples and through her pelvis, settling deep inside a place she couldn’t name. She breathed out into Summer’s mouth, not really a breath but a moan as Summer’s hands wrapped around her, her fingers straying to the spot of bare skin between Anna’s tank top and pants.
Seth was good but he was never like this, the perfect oxymoron clutched in her sweating palms, tiny and fragile and yet so strong pressing against every nerve ending as Anna threw her head back and let Summer delicately trail kisses down her neck and back up again.
Summer stopped and looked into Anna’s eyes with a mix of hesitation and longing and asked, “Okay?” As if Anna was ever going to tell her that this wasn’t okay when it had all just solidified into a concrete whole that this was what she wanted, Summer’s face between her palms, Summer’s knee wedged between her thighs.
Anna nodded and let her lips stray back to Summer’s, One of her hands slipped inside Summer’s shirt and Anna ran her fingertips up to the inward curve of Summer’s waist to the bottom of her breast and the lacy edges of a bra and then back to the softness that was Summer’s belly as her breath came quick and halting.
Even with her face tucked into the crevice between Summer’s neck and shoulder as Summer bit kisses along her collarbone, Anna still smelled the faintly alcoholic cider smell of decaying apple cores thrown in her wastebasket days before, mixed with Summer’s skin and lavender and vanilla lotion.
Anna brushed aside the wonder of the moment and reconnected her mouth with Summer’s. The tips of their tongues touched and she moved her hand tentatively from Summer’s stomach to her thigh while muted whimpers emerged from the back of Summer’s throat, the vibrations like a purr into Anna’s mouth. Summer abruptly pulled away, lips pressed together as her breath came loud and heavy from her nose.
“Do you want me to…” stop, was the next word Anna meant to say, her lips had begun to form it, but Summer clutched at her hand and looked straight into Anna’s eyes as she shook her head no and pulled Anna down to blanket her body.
Anna’s hand inched upward on soft warm flesh until they touched cloth. Summer scrabbled with both hands at the back of her shirt, pulling it up, then down. Her fingernails scraped at Anna’s back, first lightly then with increasing pressure as Anna’s fingers moved again and began to thrum against the damp fabric at Summer’s crotch.
Summer’s head strayed over to Anna’s ear and she took the lobe between her teeth. Anna cringed then relaxed into the sensation as Summer panted warm breaths into her ear, coupled with tiny sighs that made Anna’s gut tighten and swirl. Anna sped up the motion of her fingers, not just thrumming but rubbing now, feeling the wetness grow between Summer’s legs, between her own legs, and they still had their clothes on but this was so hot, hotter than the back of Mindy Cartwright’s van in Pittsburgh, hotter even than Seth or had she said that already and Summer was arching against her, reaching down between their legs to put her hand on top of Anna’s, to press down harder against her trembling body as she exhaled in one long shudder.
Chest heaving, Anna met Summer’s mouth in a long, deep kiss before rolling to the side and staring at the ceiling with widened eyes.
Yeah. This was new and different. Kind of confusing. Yet still infinitely better than the stalking angle. And way, way better than the avoiding angle.
“Anna?” Summer rolled from her back and smoothed a stray blonde tendril off of Anna’s forehead.
“Yeah?” A small kittenish yawn and stretch punctuated Anna’s question, and Summer’s eyes flashed to smooth skin and the line of Anna’s navel peeking out from below the hem of her shrunken tank.
“Cohen will be, like, so pissed when he hears he missed this.” Summer stated with an exaggerated sigh, as she bit her lip coyly and met Anna’s gaze at the end of the sentence.
Anna snatched a pink pillow out from under Summer’s head and, laughing, walloped her lightly across the face before rolling back onto her side so she could see Summer head-on. “Oh, so you think we’re inviting Seth to this?”
“Well, you said you still liked boys.” Summer’s flushed face lit up in a broad smile that threatened to overtake her cheeks.
Anna’s eyes sparkled and she grabbed Summer’s hand and held it tightly between her palms. “We could have *so* much fun with this.”
Summer nodded gleefully and tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. “Oh, I think we will.” Her smile didn’t fade. “I think we will.”
--finis--
Author’s Note: Something about this feels slightly off to me. This is my first attempt at writing Anna, and my first girlslash, period, so I don’t know if that’s where the lingering weirdness is from or if I’ve just managed to botch the voices. Eh. Everything's a learning experience, right?
Monday AM edit: 'Tis been tweaked, and probably could use more tweaking, but I'm tired and it's going to be a long week at work, so, this stands as is.
Title: The Lists
Pairing: Anna/Summer
Rating: R
Summary: Someone’s going to find out who’s been naughty, and who’s been nice. I, for one, vote “naughty.”
Disclaimer: Summer, Anna, and the celebrities they want to sleep with do not belong to me.
Dedication: For Shima, who will not admit to reading my boy/boy smut. Consider this a substitution for your dream of watching Cassie and I make out. Unbetaed, cause Sister Shma is one impatient motherfucker.
The Lists
There were a handful of things Anna didn’t mind about living in Newport. Sitting outside on a December day in a short skirt, fitted t-shirt, and black velvet blazer, for one. If she were still in Pittsburgh, earmuffs and a fluffy parka would be the uniform de rigeur, and the spiral bound notebook open in front of her would be spotted with snowflakes.
But Anna wasn’t in Pittsburgh anymore, Toto.
Instead, she was sprawled on her stomach on a picnic table in the middle of the Harbor School quad, writing non-rhyming couplets and waiting for Seth to drag his skinny ass out of Mr. Bellhorn’s calc class and meet her so they could walk to Lit Mag together.
If Anna hadn’t met Seth Cohen, he of the dimples, comic books and lack of confidence, (and, along with the copious sunshine, another of Newport’s noted assets), sailing back from Tahiti would have been a much bigger drag than it was. So to return to town and find him even further twined around Summer’s perfectly manicured little finger was nothing short of a letdown.
In a way, Anna chastised herself, it was probably somewhat her fault that Seth had gone from mere puppy-dog long distance affection for Summer to sexually-charged sparring over blackened breakfast toast on a trip to TJ. Advising dorky-yet-cute boys of the secret powers of confidence was something of a double edged sword. When you left them to their own devices, they could become That Guy at the drop of a hat.
After the whole Thanksgiving make-out debacle, Anna had more than wondered if That Guy-dom was in Seth’s future. But then he’d been all cute with the heartfelt apologies and askew shirt and Anna had decided to throw caution to the wind and give him another chance. Even if it seemed as though Summer was doing the same.
Anna’s nose wrinkled with something resembling distaste. Obviously, despite its rare weather-and-boy-associated charms, Newport still had plenty of things to add to Anna’s list of “Things to Avoid,” an elaborate collection of items that included, but was not limited to: factory raised poultry; drug store hair color; the later novels of Anne Rice; Martha Stewart endorsed products; voting Republican; Gap clothing; sleeping for less than 7 hours a night; and fraternity boys bearing cups of trash can punch. Anna mentally penciled Summer’s name at the foot of the list, with the subheadings “includes talking to, shopping with, sharing floss with, thinking about, running into on purpose, etc.”
The main snag in the whole avoiding issue was that thinking about Seth (which she enjoyed doing immensely) always seemed to lead to her thinking about Summer (which irritated like sand in a bathing suit, always chafing in the wrong places). Thinking about Summer led to wanting to see Summer, and pretty soon Anna was creeping around school feeling like one of the bad-haired stalkers that populated that ostensibly “family” drama Seventh Heaven.
Wait. Forget penciling. What Summer’s entry on the list needed was a bold black sharpie.
All of this wouldn’t have been so wrong on its own, she mused, if her reasons for wanting to see Summer were related to wanting to see Summer embarrass herself by tripping on a banana peel or using “disingenuous” incorrectly in a sentence. But somewhere during Anna’s brief alliance with she of the Valley intonation, between playing with Seth and amusing herself, she’d discovered that she actually *liked* Summer.
More than liked.
Getting Summer out of her head was like trying to shake the chorus of catchy-yet-annoying pop song lyrics. Maybe it was the way Summer bit at the corner of her lip when she was nervous or unsure about something. Or the way her waist curved in softly, letting cashmere sweaters cling just so. Maybe it was her fierce determination when it came to the whole Seth issue, which shouldn’t have been sexy, but somehow was. Or the fact that, god forbid, she actually had a wry sense of humor under her shallow facade, unlike most of the vapid Harbor School bimbos, like Holly or Brittany or all the other girls whose names ended in “-y.”
Anna looked down at her page to see that she had begun doodling Summer’s name in the margins in heavy black ballpoint. Convincing herself that it was because of her Avoidance List was hard, because the points on her list didn’t usually have little hearts and flowers traced around them.
Anna wasn’t even a hearts and flowers kind of *girl*. Damn that Summer.
She hurriedly slammed the neon blue cover shut and poked her pen into the wire coil when she spotted Seth striding across campus towards her.
Anna swung her legs around to a seated position and tucked her notebook into her bag. Seth smiled widely and offered a hand to pull her to her feet.
“Sorry I’m late, Mr. Bellhorn was getting all poetic about equations and I was like, dude, I have my own poetry to attend to, the good kind, that doesn’t include numbers. Or, well, maybe not the *good* kind, but the moderately okay kind that rhymes words with Nantucket…” Seth trailed off.
Tilting her head as they stood beside the table, Anna half-grinned at Seth’s babbling from under the fringe of her hair.
“I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” He shrugged his t-shirt clad shoulders sheepishly.
Anna’s half smile broke into a full one as she watched Seth’s face scrunch up in mock-embarassment. “Eh, on you, it’s cute. Let’s just go, okay?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Summer making her way across the other side of campus, head following Anna and Seth’s progress. Summer’s head snapped forward and she quickened her pace when it became apparent Anna was watching her back.
Seth. Seth. Not Summer. Seth.
Right. This was going to work. Probably.
* * *
Summer wanted to hate Anna Stern. By all rights, she *should* have hated Anna. It was against all of her principles to actually *like* Anna Stern. Except Summer’s principles of late had suddenly gone all Tikki Tikki Tembo down a well.
First Seth Cohen, then Anna Stern, who had spontaneously appeared all dark roots and checked wristcuff and stolen not just one but *two* of Summer’s potential cotillion dates, Summer mused as Suki applied warm bright blue wax to her left eyebrow.
It wasn’t like she was *obsessed* with Anna. Or Seth Cohen, for that matter. It was just that she couldn’t stop thinking about either of them. And that was, like, a totally different thing from obsession, right?
“No scrunching.” Suki waved a latex-gloved hand at Summer’s face. “You want hair left, yes?”
Summer relaxed her forehead. “Sorry.”
But the truth was, there was nothing more brow-furrowing than the recent events in Summer’s life. She had might as well turn in her membership card to Newport’s elite right then and there, because the way she was going, pretty soon they were going to kick her out. Granted, they’d be doing the kicking with an exquisite strappy Jimmy Choo. But still.
There were so many things to hate about Anna, beginning with her fashion sense. Her flippy Boys-Don’t-Cry haircut. Her refusal to watch mainstream movies unless they were based on a comic book or had received an Oscar nomination. Her relentless pursuit of Seth Cohen.
That last one was really a nail file in the gut. Fighting for her men wasn’t foreign to Summer, who typically won them and then discarded them once their credit cards were maxed out. But Seth Cohen was different.
Being forced to share him with someone like Anna was different.
Because if Anna kept making out with Seth, like Summer thought she might have been, then Summer would have to keep thinking about Seth making out with Anna when he was actually making out with Summer, which was fine except for the fact that it made Summer think about *Anna* making out with Summer, when her mind should have been on making out with Seth….
It was a vicious circle that made her head hurt, like that episode of Friends with the “They don’t know we know they know we know…” Summer so didn’t want to be Joey. She fancied herself more of a Rachel girl anyway.
With a final painful yank, Suki turned away and then held a mirror up to Summer’s face so she could inspect. “All done. What a pretty girl.”
“Yeah, thanks Suki.” Summer said distractedly, fishing in her Louis Vuitton purse for a tip. “Doesn’t hurt at all when she’s waxing you, my ass,” she muttered as she pushed her way through the frosted glass doors of the spa and made her way to the front desk.
Ass waxing. That was something she was glad she’d never have to look into. Although there were some guys she knew who probably should…
Her mind strayed back to Anna, her occasional partner in crime and fellow tormentor of Seth Cohen. Anna and her stupid mneumonics about “good sex” and her hilariously droll remarks about the mall-walkers down at South Coast and the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed, making Summer’s stomach flutter.
Good girls from Orange County didn’t like dorks, unless they were rich dorks, and Summer could cope with the whole Cohen issue simply by putting him in that category. Even if the situation wasn’t going to help her popularity any.
But good girls from Orange County definitely didn’t like other girls. Especially not imports from the 909 of the East. Especially especially not imports with questionable wardrobes that were pseudo-dating the guy you were also interested in.
After signing her receipt in purple ball-point, Summer squared her jaw and swiped on her sunglasses before walking outside. She had done it before to the girls who encroached on her territory, and she’d have do it again. Force-outs weren’t pretty, but Anna needed to get away from her man-boy-like man-and out of Summer’s head once and for all.
And she had to do it soon, before her resolve crumbled and she was parading around school in rainbows like some extra on Ellen.
Anything to stop the recurrent dreams she was having about sneaking into Anna’s bedroom at night and kissing her while she slept.
Because good girls from the O.C. *definitely* didn’t do that.
* * *
Sharp knocking at her bedroom window roused Anna from where she lay on top the covers of her bed, clad in her official lounging uniform of pink tank top and striped silk pajama bottoms. As usual, her notebook was in front of her, pen once again poised in hand. One didn’t become a famous writer by slacking off.
And one didn’t get good Christmas presents without first making a list.
When she finally looked through the shadowy glass to see Summer opening a hand in an impatient wave, her heart leaped, but her brain made her force out a groan. Curse her parents for giving into the realtor and buying a Spanish-style ranch with ground level windows. Moreover, Anna cursed herself for inviting Summer over for iced chai last week after their South Coast Plaza excursion.
One’s worst enemies and secret crushes should never find out where you lived. Especially when both categories inhabited the same pert little body.
Anna dragged herself out of bed, took three steps across her green carpet, and pushed up the sash of the window, bringing scents of ocean air and Summer’s lavender perfume. “Hey.” Summer offered in greeting.
Anna stepped back from the window and eyed Summer warily. “So, to what do I owe this Joey Potter moment?”
“Please. That girl has, like, issues.” Summer zinged as she clambered over the sill, managing it rather adeptly for someone wearing three inch platforms and a short skirt. “And while we’re at it, she needs a straightening iron, stat. Because the frizz? Doesn’t work on anyone.”
Anna, stolidly resolving to ignore Summer despite her overwhelming physical and olfactory presence, settled back belly down on her Indian-print spread and, inhaling deeply, returned her attention to her spiral.
“So, what are you doing?” Summer inquired, sounding suspiciously like the eager five-year-old Anna used to babysit back in Pittsburgh.
“Making a Christmas list.” Anna responded dryly, her attention squarely on the blue lined page in front of her.
“What, are you eight?”
Anna’s head snapped up and she glared at Summer through perfectly kohl-rimmed eyes. “I like lists.” Her lips shaped the words precisely, like an x-acto knife. “They add order and predictability to your life.”
Summer appeared as though she may have been suppressing an eye-roll, but Anna chose to ignore it. Just like she was choosing to ignore everything else. Right. “Well, the only list I’ve made is the five celebrities I’d sleep with.” Summer offered.
“Rachel Leigh Cook, Zooey Deschanel, Liz Phair, Christina Ricci and Anne Sexton circa 1969, *before* she downed handfuls of sleeping pills, obviously.” Anna rattled off tonelessly without a moment’s hesitation.
“Those are like, all girls.” Summer snorted dismissively, but her voice seemed to catch on the last word. If Anna had listened hard enough, she might have found reason to read into it, but instead she plowed headlong into her rebuttal.
“Your point?” Anna’s words were a challenge, and her eyes narrowed. Suddenly thinking the better of her statement, she started to speak again, preventing a response from a momentarily shell-shocked Summer. “Why are you here, anyway?”
Anna’s voice sounded cattier than she’d intended. But whatever. The better to keep Anna away out of trouble, and away from bad thoughts that had absolutely nothing to do with five certain celebrities. Or Seth Cohen.
Summer’s eyes clouded in confusion, and she spoke hesitantly. “I’m…not sure.”
“Way to plan, Summer. Sounds like you’re getting along just swimmingly without lists.” When ignoring failed to rid you of your problems, go with sarcasm.
Summer pursed her lips and delicately placed a hand on her hip, as if she were posing for Sak’s winter catalogue. “Okay. Fine. I want to you stay away from Seth Cohen.”
Summer’s command sounded less, well, commanding, and more like a question.
Anna’s head shook back and forth of its own accord. She rolled onto her back and propped herself up on her elbows, raising an eyebrow. “And that was so important that you had to invade my bedroom at ten p.m on a school night?”
Summer’s mouth curled down at the corners contemplatively. “Can I…?” She motioned to the corner of the bed, and receiving no signal either way from Anna, sat down and began nibbling on the corner of her lip as Anna watched.
“Did you really mean what you said? About the celebrities?”
“I guess. As much as one can mean anything.” What a moment to get philosophical, Stern, she thought to herself. Her heart pounded curiously as she awaited Summer’s response.
“So…you like girls?”
“And boys.” Anna articulated and paused, looking intently at Summer, as if she could discern her intentions with a well placed gaze. “Given that we’re not friends, why should this matter? Or are you going to use this as another piece of ammunition against me among the Harbor junior Newpsies? Because we’ve already had one Outing in the past week. I don’t know if the rumor mill would know what to do with a second one.”
“No…” Summer began uncertainly.
“Well, I’m not going to stay away from Seth either. So why don’t you just run home and pick out your outfit for tomorrow?” Anna, hackles raised, wished she felt the conviction her words conveyed. Not about Seth, even though she had no intention of doing that. It was the “running home” that stymied her.
However, Summer had apparently picked up Anna’s habit of ignoring statements she deemed blatantly unnecessary, in order to get to the heart of the matter. “So…you’ve kissed girls before.”
“Yeah.” Anna’s word was short, clipped, her shoulders tense.
“So, what’s it like?” Summer’s intonation was curious, not invasive, and Anna began to settle back into her pillows, an unreadable expression flitting across her face.
“Like kissing boys. Only less tall.”
“Oh.”
“Well, less tall for the most part.”
“Have you kissed a lot of girls?” Summer’s words quieted with every sentence she spoke.
Anna shook her head, and pursed her lips in something resembling a smile. “Not a lot. Have you?”
“No. I mean. Not any.” Summer’s voice stilted, but her face was soft, and Anna pressed her hand down consciously on the gold-embroidered comforter to prevent from reaching out and stroking Summer’s pink cheek.
“Oh?”
“I mean, I’m not all Ew! about it, it’s just not something we. Generally do. Here.” Summer’s words were even more broken up than they had been in her last statement, but at least she seemed to have regained volume.
“Well, it’s not something “we” generally do in Pittsburgh, either.” Anna’s fingernails scratched impatiently at her bed before she decided to fuck it all and dive right in. It wasn’t as though she’d have a friend to lose in the morning. “But, if you ever wanted to I bet there are some girls here who wouldn’t mind. I mean…” She let her voice trail off as she sat up and watched Summer expectantly.
Summer’s cheeks flushed even brighter as she realized the gist of Anna’s proposition. To Anna’s surprise and delight, Summer’s body language betrayed whatever classic Newport upbringing she had as she leaned fractionally towards Anna.
“Well, I mean, who’s not up for introducing new things to the community? If nothing else, it’ll be good leverage if Cohen ever dicks us both over again. Right?” Summer joked cautiously.
It was as if the girls were two points plotted distantly on the same graph, and Seth was the line that had unwittingly had joined them together. For better or for worse, to borrow a phrase from antiquated ceremony. But he served to make their actions blameless.
At that moment Anna was pretty sure she loved Seth Cohen.
“Right.” Anna echoed. She ran her tongue across her bottom lip and, closing her eyes, slowly leaned in and met Summer’s mouth.
Anna felt Summer inhale sharply at the touch of her lips before she settled into the kiss, opening her mouth slightly. Summer tasted like grapes and the butterscotch candy Anna’s great-grandma used to give her when she visited, and when their heads parted, Summer’s gloss clung to Anna’s lips.
“Not so bad, huh?” Anna smiled, her breath catching behind her larynx.
Summer’s head moved a little from side to side, taking Anna in before pressing her lips against Anna’s once again.
Anna felt it this time, now that Summer was the one pressed against her, tongue reaching delicately past Anna’s lips to brush hers, now that she’d started it, that slow burn in her stomach creeping up and down and out, over nipples and through her pelvis, settling deep inside a place she couldn’t name. She breathed out into Summer’s mouth, not really a breath but a moan as Summer’s hands wrapped around her, her fingers straying to the spot of bare skin between Anna’s tank top and pants.
Seth was good but he was never like this, the perfect oxymoron clutched in her sweating palms, tiny and fragile and yet so strong pressing against every nerve ending as Anna threw her head back and let Summer delicately trail kisses down her neck and back up again.
Summer stopped and looked into Anna’s eyes with a mix of hesitation and longing and asked, “Okay?” As if Anna was ever going to tell her that this wasn’t okay when it had all just solidified into a concrete whole that this was what she wanted, Summer’s face between her palms, Summer’s knee wedged between her thighs.
Anna nodded and let her lips stray back to Summer’s, One of her hands slipped inside Summer’s shirt and Anna ran her fingertips up to the inward curve of Summer’s waist to the bottom of her breast and the lacy edges of a bra and then back to the softness that was Summer’s belly as her breath came quick and halting.
Even with her face tucked into the crevice between Summer’s neck and shoulder as Summer bit kisses along her collarbone, Anna still smelled the faintly alcoholic cider smell of decaying apple cores thrown in her wastebasket days before, mixed with Summer’s skin and lavender and vanilla lotion.
Anna brushed aside the wonder of the moment and reconnected her mouth with Summer’s. The tips of their tongues touched and she moved her hand tentatively from Summer’s stomach to her thigh while muted whimpers emerged from the back of Summer’s throat, the vibrations like a purr into Anna’s mouth. Summer abruptly pulled away, lips pressed together as her breath came loud and heavy from her nose.
“Do you want me to…” stop, was the next word Anna meant to say, her lips had begun to form it, but Summer clutched at her hand and looked straight into Anna’s eyes as she shook her head no and pulled Anna down to blanket her body.
Anna’s hand inched upward on soft warm flesh until they touched cloth. Summer scrabbled with both hands at the back of her shirt, pulling it up, then down. Her fingernails scraped at Anna’s back, first lightly then with increasing pressure as Anna’s fingers moved again and began to thrum against the damp fabric at Summer’s crotch.
Summer’s head strayed over to Anna’s ear and she took the lobe between her teeth. Anna cringed then relaxed into the sensation as Summer panted warm breaths into her ear, coupled with tiny sighs that made Anna’s gut tighten and swirl. Anna sped up the motion of her fingers, not just thrumming but rubbing now, feeling the wetness grow between Summer’s legs, between her own legs, and they still had their clothes on but this was so hot, hotter than the back of Mindy Cartwright’s van in Pittsburgh, hotter even than Seth or had she said that already and Summer was arching against her, reaching down between their legs to put her hand on top of Anna’s, to press down harder against her trembling body as she exhaled in one long shudder.
Chest heaving, Anna met Summer’s mouth in a long, deep kiss before rolling to the side and staring at the ceiling with widened eyes.
Yeah. This was new and different. Kind of confusing. Yet still infinitely better than the stalking angle. And way, way better than the avoiding angle.
“Anna?” Summer rolled from her back and smoothed a stray blonde tendril off of Anna’s forehead.
“Yeah?” A small kittenish yawn and stretch punctuated Anna’s question, and Summer’s eyes flashed to smooth skin and the line of Anna’s navel peeking out from below the hem of her shrunken tank.
“Cohen will be, like, so pissed when he hears he missed this.” Summer stated with an exaggerated sigh, as she bit her lip coyly and met Anna’s gaze at the end of the sentence.
Anna snatched a pink pillow out from under Summer’s head and, laughing, walloped her lightly across the face before rolling back onto her side so she could see Summer head-on. “Oh, so you think we’re inviting Seth to this?”
“Well, you said you still liked boys.” Summer’s flushed face lit up in a broad smile that threatened to overtake her cheeks.
Anna’s eyes sparkled and she grabbed Summer’s hand and held it tightly between her palms. “We could have *so* much fun with this.”
Summer nodded gleefully and tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. “Oh, I think we will.” Her smile didn’t fade. “I think we will.”
--finis--
Author’s Note: Something about this feels slightly off to me. This is my first attempt at writing Anna, and my first girlslash, period, so I don’t know if that’s where the lingering weirdness is from or if I’ve just managed to botch the voices. Eh. Everything's a learning experience, right?