A fic to force the dead to roll here
I feel like I never did the proper introduction entry, but I haven't slept a wink tonight and I'm going a little crazy so I'll just let the fic speak for itself.
Title: And Then...
Ship: Katie/Summer, because there isn't enough out there
Rating: PG
Summary: “I'm sorry I freaked out. I didn't understand what I was feeling,” she continued. “And I still don't really know. I’ve never felt this way for…for anyone actually, but especially not a girl.”
Disclaimer: I don't own School of Rock the movie or any affiliated characters, nor do I own the bands Rilo Kiley, The Decemberists, or Jack Johnson. The Jack Johnson lyrics mentioned were taken from the song "Mudfootball (For Moe Lerner)" and the Rilo Kiley lyrics were from "Paint's Peeling."
Feedback is ALWAYS welcome.
Early November of Katie’s senior year, it rained for a week straight. The Saturday it began she was feeling particularly despondent, so, with her collar up and her hands in her pockets, she walked down the semi-empty street to the mom and pop record store she frequented. She arrived around ten in the morning, just as it was opening. Katie sighed to herself as she opened the door, wishing she could sleep late like Zack or Freddie and avoid extra hours of emptiness over nothing, instead of waking up at eight o’ clock on the weekends to rain and a sad feeling in the pit of her stomach, sitting there for no reason.
Oh shut up, her mind told her. You know exactly what the reason is.
She meandered lazily through the aisles. The man behind the counter, whose name she still didn’t know despite her constant business, knew to leave her be. The first few times she had gone into the store he’d persistently tried to help her, and finally caught on that she was better off looking on her own. That’s usually the way Katie worked. By herself.
She rubbed the twenty dollar bill in her pocket and absently chewed her lower lip. She considered the weather, her mood, the season, every factor of life before purchasing any CD. The man behind the counter cleared his throat loudly and turned the page of the magazine he was reading. Katie glanced over at him, then back to the shelves. After a good ten minutes of standing around thinking about the rain (Katie’s process for buying a CD was always a very intricate and time-consuming one), she selected Rilo Kiley’s “The Execution of All Things” because it was sad enough to make her feel like she wasn’t tricking herself into being happy, and upbeat enough to keep her from slitting her wrists. She paid, avoiding the man’s inquiring eyes and obvious attempts to make conversation, and quickly left the store.
As Katie walked, she began to unwrap the CD to keep her mind off of other things. With her eyes downward and her head elsewhere, she didn’t notice the stout figure before her and briskly walked straight into his back.
“Hey!”
Startled from her thoughts (or lack thereof) she looked up quickly, opening her mouth to apologize, then realized that it was Dewey. She fought the urge to turn and walk the other way, though the look in his eyes when he turned and saw her nearly propelled her into a run.
“Katie,” he said, surprised at first, and then concerned. “Where’ve you been, man? What’s this that Zack told me about you quitting the band?”
Katie felt her words get caught in her throat and she looked down. She thought of an explanation, but ended up coughing nervously instead. “Um.”
Dewey waited impatiently. When he realized Katie had nothing to say, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and crossed his arms. “You know the band needs you! That has to be your top priority, man! Everything comes after the music. That’s what being a rocker is all about.”
“I know,” she said hoarsely. “I just needed a break.”
“A break?” Dewey’s stern demeanor melted back into concern almost immediately. “Hey…what’s going on with you? Have you been okay?”
Katie wanted to nod and insist, but Dewey’s perception cut through her. All she could do was stare.
After another beat, Dewey gently tugged her arm and began to walk with her down the street. Katie glanced at the telephone pole he’d been standing at as they walked passed and saw a flyer searching for a band in need of a guitarist. Dewey noticed her interest.
“When you guys graduate I’m going to need another project to work on,” he said light-heartedly, but half-assed enough for Katie to tell he was trying to make light of a difficult situation for him. “Can’t live vicariously through teenage prodigies forever. So, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”
“It’s a lot of different things,” she lied. “School and stuff…getting ready for college. I just don’t have the time.”
“Katie, you always had the time to rock before,” Dewey said, as though he was pleading with her. “Your senior year is supposed to be easy. And I know you guys-your college applications were done and in the mail by the end of September. Don’t try to tell me otherwise,” he said, holding up a finger to interrupt her as she opened her mouth to protest. “I thought that band meant the world to you.”
IT DID, her head screamed. IT DID I LOVED IT I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT BUT-
Dewey stopped walking and put a hand on her shoulder. “Was it creative differences?”
“You…could say that.” Katie said, looking away.
If Dewey ever had anything going for him, it was his perception. He squinted a little bit, as though reading her mind (which always made her uncomfortable), and then nodded, as though to say “I understand, and I understand why you don’t want to talk about it.”
They began walking again in silence and he pointed to her newly purchased CD. “What’d you get?”
“A Rilo Kiley album.”
Never one for indie music, Dewey crinkled his nose slightly, then shrugged. “To each their own.”
His words struck a familiar chord inside of her and again she looked away.
~ ~ ~
Over the summer, Katie and Summer had become very close. They had frequent sleepovers where neither one of them actually slept. They would stay awake during all hours of the night, talking or listening to music or both. They talked about the band and Summer told Katie about all of her ideas for them and Katie would play Summer a new riff she’d been working on for whatever song she was writing at the time. Summer would always ask Katie to show her the lyrics she wrote and Katie always playfully refused. They would talk about all the boys they thought were cute…or rather, Summer would and Katie would sit and listen with her bass in her lap, absently playing the G note Dewey had taught her years ago. Summer’s eyes would shine gleefully, or sometimes spark mischievously, and Katie would feel something inside of her go soft. When the sun rose and they finally settled down to go to sleep, Katie would always be sure to fall asleep after Summer. For some reason, she always found it necessary to watch Summer for a bit before she fell asleep.
When school started, their sleepovers became more sporadic and infrequent, but just as cherished. On the floor of Katie’s room they listened to The Decemberists and talked about college. They crawled into bed together at four in the morning and when Katie woke up, Summer was nestled up against her back. Katie dared not move for fear of disturbing her, but her skin burned strangely and her heart pounded. More than once she had to fight the urge to turn and cup Summer’s face in her hands, until she finally slipped back into sleep.
When they woke up and Summer smiled at her, Katie tried to smile back without feeling sick, without feeling like she was lying to Summer by not telling her. They were best friends. They told each other everything. But suddenly, Katie had a secret that she didn’t know how to word. She only knew that it was better not to try to figure it out.
The weather got cooler. The end of October came. Halloween came. Summer, feeling better than the holiday that year and having just broken up with a recent boyfriend, resolved to, again, spend the night at Katie’s house. Katie, though her logic advised her otherwise, didn’t object. Because of her breakup, Summer’s emotions and nerves had been haywire, so Katie wasn’t horrendously taken aback when her friend began to cry as they were laying together in bed, talking. Jack Johnson was playing quietly in the background (not Katie’s number one choice of music, but Summer always said Jack Johnson could brighten her mood so Katie took one for the team) and Katie did the only thing she thought to do-she snaked her arms around Summer’s body and let her cry into her chest. Summer was a silent crier and within moments she was done, save several tears still rolling down her cheeks. She looked up at Katie.
“I don’t understand why I’m so upset,” she said, half-smiling self-consciously. “I didn’t even really like him that much.”
She sniffled. Katie pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I just…,” Summer began, then paused, struggling to find the right words. “I feel like no one gets me. Every relationship I have is a fake one.”
Summer’s eyes met Katie’s, and again Katie found herself doing the only thing she could think to do and softly pressed her lips to Summer’s.
For five beautiful seconds, Katie saw fireworks behind her eyes and felt like the puzzle pieces had suddenly fallen into place. Then Summer pulled away, stammering, looking half confused and half furious, as though she was trying to place blame in a blameless situation.
“I’m sorry,” Katie said quickly, getting to her feet. She was prepared to get on her knees and beg if it meant Summer would stay. “I’m sorry, I-I…”
“Katie,” Summer said firmly, trying to sound all-business even though her pale complexion gave her away. “To each their own but…I…no.”
The simple “no” struck Katie like a shovel against the back of her head. Summer gathered her things and left.
The door slammed. Katie called Zack and told him she was quitting the band. As he asked why, she hung up on him. She cried herself to sleep, still smelling Summer on the pillow beside her. She had no energy to turn off the CD player, so Jack Johnson sat mocking her for the evening.
We used to laugh a lot,
but only cuz we thought that everything good always would remain.
~ ~ ~
It was one in the afternoon. Katie stared at her alarm clock, thinking about how at this point the band would be getting ready to rehearse. Zack would be explaining to everyone how Katie had quit. He would be irked, but more confused than anything. Lawrence would look passively concerned. Freddie would be angry. Marta, Tomika, and Alicia would shoot unanswerable questions at Zack. And Summer…
Katie didn’t even know what Summer would do.
Pushing aside thoughts of the band’s first rehearsal without her, Katie put Rilo Kiley in her CD player and thought about writing a song. There wasn’t much a bassist could do without a band though, and she’d never fancied herself much of a singer so writing lyrics to perform on her own would do nothing for her. With the CD playing she resolved herself to at least attempting to write a song, but, as she rested her pencil against the page of her notebook, she found all she could do was sketch a poor doodle of Summer’s sleeping face. She sighed through her nose and felt a lump rise in her throat.
“And I feel nothing, not safe,” her speakers sang melodically. “It’s a hard day for breathing again.”
“Fuck,” Katie muttered to herself. “Fuck.”
She pulled her coat on and felt her cigarettes in her pocket. She remembered Summer trying to get her to quit. Katie had planned to give the pack to Summer but that notion didn’t seem plausible anymore.
~ ~ ~
By Friday, Katie had become a self-proclaimed chain-smoking loner. She had avoided her friends all week and managed to walk home in the rain every day by herself. That actually makes it seem harder than it actually was-in reality, Katie hadn’t needed to avoid her friends as none of them had approached her anyway. And walking home alone wasn’t necessarily a choice. Even if she’d wanted company, no one seemed to want to give it to her. The worst part was, she couldn’t blame anyone.
Taking a hard drag and exhaling through her nose, Katie pulled her hood over her eyes and didn’t notice the person standing in front of her until she realized she could no longer walk straight.
Lifting her eyes, she stared straight into the familiar deep brown irises of Summer. Katie felt a familiar twinge of desire, quickly being replaced with dread and nausea. She bowed her head and attempted to pass, but Summer grabbed her arm.
“I’m sick of watching you walk home every day by yourself,” Summer said quietly. She didn’t sound stern at all.
“It’s okay,” Katie mumbled, trying again to get away.
Summer’s grip tightened. “It’s not.”
Katie looked at her. Summer’s face was tight with misery and she said, quietly again, “I used to think about what it would be like to leave for college and not have you with me every day. And then this week happened and suddenly this person that was such a big part of my life was gone.”
She paused, looking sheepish. Katie halfway didn’t want her to finish her sentence because her hopes were getting dramatically high and the last thing she wanted to do was be set up for a heartbreak. Instinctively, they began walking towards Katie’s house. Summer, as though reading Katie’s mind, didn’t finish her statement. They reached Katie’s and sat on the floor of her room, ringing out their clothes and combing their fingers through their wet hair. Katie hit play on her CD player and Rilo Kiley started up all over again. She turned her back on Summer, rummaging around on her dresser for a brush and hastily trying to comb the knots out of her hair. She felt Summer’s slender fingers close around her wrist and pull her arm away from her hair. Katie felt her body freeze. She felt something brush against her back and was suddenly very aware of how close Summer was standing to her. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
“I felt like I wasn’t a whole person,” Summer said softly, almost in a whisper, her lips very close to brushing Katie’s ear. They were so close Katie could smell Summer’s faint perfume and her head began to swim. “And I realized that this is how a break up should feel. And even though I’ve had a lot of break ups, there was never one that felt like this.”
Katie felt nearly faint with nerves and desire. She turned herself around, wrenching her wrist from Summer’s grasp and staring into her face, searching for something. Summer’s expression was stone, but her eyes were wet.
“I'm sorry I freaked out. I didn't understand what I was feeling,” she continued. “And I still don't really know. I’ve never felt this way for…for anyone actually, but especially not a girl.”
Katie shook her head and swallowed. “Neither have I.”
“I don’t know if I’m gay.”
“I don’t know either. Does it matter?”
Summer smiled nervously. “No, I guess not.”
Katie picked at a loose string on the end of her blazer anxiously, staring intently at Summer, who stared intently back. And then, as though magnetized and drawn to each other, they both leaned in quickly and their lips were against each others, their tongues entwined, fingers in hair, hands against backs against fronts against shirts underneath shirts and there was a floor beneath them and then there wasn’t and there was clothing and then there wasn’t and then and then and then…
And then when Katie woke up later on and she felt Summer nestled against her back, she allowed herself to move slightly, just to turn and look at her, and Summer’s eyes opened lazily and she pressed their bodies together and kissed her as the rain fell outside.
Title: And Then...
Ship: Katie/Summer, because there isn't enough out there
Rating: PG
Summary: “I'm sorry I freaked out. I didn't understand what I was feeling,” she continued. “And I still don't really know. I’ve never felt this way for…for anyone actually, but especially not a girl.”
Disclaimer: I don't own School of Rock the movie or any affiliated characters, nor do I own the bands Rilo Kiley, The Decemberists, or Jack Johnson. The Jack Johnson lyrics mentioned were taken from the song "Mudfootball (For Moe Lerner)" and the Rilo Kiley lyrics were from "Paint's Peeling."
Feedback is ALWAYS welcome.
Early November of Katie’s senior year, it rained for a week straight. The Saturday it began she was feeling particularly despondent, so, with her collar up and her hands in her pockets, she walked down the semi-empty street to the mom and pop record store she frequented. She arrived around ten in the morning, just as it was opening. Katie sighed to herself as she opened the door, wishing she could sleep late like Zack or Freddie and avoid extra hours of emptiness over nothing, instead of waking up at eight o’ clock on the weekends to rain and a sad feeling in the pit of her stomach, sitting there for no reason.
Oh shut up, her mind told her. You know exactly what the reason is.
She meandered lazily through the aisles. The man behind the counter, whose name she still didn’t know despite her constant business, knew to leave her be. The first few times she had gone into the store he’d persistently tried to help her, and finally caught on that she was better off looking on her own. That’s usually the way Katie worked. By herself.
She rubbed the twenty dollar bill in her pocket and absently chewed her lower lip. She considered the weather, her mood, the season, every factor of life before purchasing any CD. The man behind the counter cleared his throat loudly and turned the page of the magazine he was reading. Katie glanced over at him, then back to the shelves. After a good ten minutes of standing around thinking about the rain (Katie’s process for buying a CD was always a very intricate and time-consuming one), she selected Rilo Kiley’s “The Execution of All Things” because it was sad enough to make her feel like she wasn’t tricking herself into being happy, and upbeat enough to keep her from slitting her wrists. She paid, avoiding the man’s inquiring eyes and obvious attempts to make conversation, and quickly left the store.
As Katie walked, she began to unwrap the CD to keep her mind off of other things. With her eyes downward and her head elsewhere, she didn’t notice the stout figure before her and briskly walked straight into his back.
“Hey!”
Startled from her thoughts (or lack thereof) she looked up quickly, opening her mouth to apologize, then realized that it was Dewey. She fought the urge to turn and walk the other way, though the look in his eyes when he turned and saw her nearly propelled her into a run.
“Katie,” he said, surprised at first, and then concerned. “Where’ve you been, man? What’s this that Zack told me about you quitting the band?”
Katie felt her words get caught in her throat and she looked down. She thought of an explanation, but ended up coughing nervously instead. “Um.”
Dewey waited impatiently. When he realized Katie had nothing to say, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and crossed his arms. “You know the band needs you! That has to be your top priority, man! Everything comes after the music. That’s what being a rocker is all about.”
“I know,” she said hoarsely. “I just needed a break.”
“A break?” Dewey’s stern demeanor melted back into concern almost immediately. “Hey…what’s going on with you? Have you been okay?”
Katie wanted to nod and insist, but Dewey’s perception cut through her. All she could do was stare.
After another beat, Dewey gently tugged her arm and began to walk with her down the street. Katie glanced at the telephone pole he’d been standing at as they walked passed and saw a flyer searching for a band in need of a guitarist. Dewey noticed her interest.
“When you guys graduate I’m going to need another project to work on,” he said light-heartedly, but half-assed enough for Katie to tell he was trying to make light of a difficult situation for him. “Can’t live vicariously through teenage prodigies forever. So, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”
“It’s a lot of different things,” she lied. “School and stuff…getting ready for college. I just don’t have the time.”
“Katie, you always had the time to rock before,” Dewey said, as though he was pleading with her. “Your senior year is supposed to be easy. And I know you guys-your college applications were done and in the mail by the end of September. Don’t try to tell me otherwise,” he said, holding up a finger to interrupt her as she opened her mouth to protest. “I thought that band meant the world to you.”
IT DID, her head screamed. IT DID I LOVED IT I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT BUT-
Dewey stopped walking and put a hand on her shoulder. “Was it creative differences?”
“You…could say that.” Katie said, looking away.
If Dewey ever had anything going for him, it was his perception. He squinted a little bit, as though reading her mind (which always made her uncomfortable), and then nodded, as though to say “I understand, and I understand why you don’t want to talk about it.”
They began walking again in silence and he pointed to her newly purchased CD. “What’d you get?”
“A Rilo Kiley album.”
Never one for indie music, Dewey crinkled his nose slightly, then shrugged. “To each their own.”
His words struck a familiar chord inside of her and again she looked away.
~ ~ ~
Over the summer, Katie and Summer had become very close. They had frequent sleepovers where neither one of them actually slept. They would stay awake during all hours of the night, talking or listening to music or both. They talked about the band and Summer told Katie about all of her ideas for them and Katie would play Summer a new riff she’d been working on for whatever song she was writing at the time. Summer would always ask Katie to show her the lyrics she wrote and Katie always playfully refused. They would talk about all the boys they thought were cute…or rather, Summer would and Katie would sit and listen with her bass in her lap, absently playing the G note Dewey had taught her years ago. Summer’s eyes would shine gleefully, or sometimes spark mischievously, and Katie would feel something inside of her go soft. When the sun rose and they finally settled down to go to sleep, Katie would always be sure to fall asleep after Summer. For some reason, she always found it necessary to watch Summer for a bit before she fell asleep.
When school started, their sleepovers became more sporadic and infrequent, but just as cherished. On the floor of Katie’s room they listened to The Decemberists and talked about college. They crawled into bed together at four in the morning and when Katie woke up, Summer was nestled up against her back. Katie dared not move for fear of disturbing her, but her skin burned strangely and her heart pounded. More than once she had to fight the urge to turn and cup Summer’s face in her hands, until she finally slipped back into sleep.
When they woke up and Summer smiled at her, Katie tried to smile back without feeling sick, without feeling like she was lying to Summer by not telling her. They were best friends. They told each other everything. But suddenly, Katie had a secret that she didn’t know how to word. She only knew that it was better not to try to figure it out.
The weather got cooler. The end of October came. Halloween came. Summer, feeling better than the holiday that year and having just broken up with a recent boyfriend, resolved to, again, spend the night at Katie’s house. Katie, though her logic advised her otherwise, didn’t object. Because of her breakup, Summer’s emotions and nerves had been haywire, so Katie wasn’t horrendously taken aback when her friend began to cry as they were laying together in bed, talking. Jack Johnson was playing quietly in the background (not Katie’s number one choice of music, but Summer always said Jack Johnson could brighten her mood so Katie took one for the team) and Katie did the only thing she thought to do-she snaked her arms around Summer’s body and let her cry into her chest. Summer was a silent crier and within moments she was done, save several tears still rolling down her cheeks. She looked up at Katie.
“I don’t understand why I’m so upset,” she said, half-smiling self-consciously. “I didn’t even really like him that much.”
She sniffled. Katie pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I just…,” Summer began, then paused, struggling to find the right words. “I feel like no one gets me. Every relationship I have is a fake one.”
Summer’s eyes met Katie’s, and again Katie found herself doing the only thing she could think to do and softly pressed her lips to Summer’s.
For five beautiful seconds, Katie saw fireworks behind her eyes and felt like the puzzle pieces had suddenly fallen into place. Then Summer pulled away, stammering, looking half confused and half furious, as though she was trying to place blame in a blameless situation.
“I’m sorry,” Katie said quickly, getting to her feet. She was prepared to get on her knees and beg if it meant Summer would stay. “I’m sorry, I-I…”
“Katie,” Summer said firmly, trying to sound all-business even though her pale complexion gave her away. “To each their own but…I…no.”
The simple “no” struck Katie like a shovel against the back of her head. Summer gathered her things and left.
The door slammed. Katie called Zack and told him she was quitting the band. As he asked why, she hung up on him. She cried herself to sleep, still smelling Summer on the pillow beside her. She had no energy to turn off the CD player, so Jack Johnson sat mocking her for the evening.
We used to laugh a lot,
but only cuz we thought that everything good always would remain.
~ ~ ~
It was one in the afternoon. Katie stared at her alarm clock, thinking about how at this point the band would be getting ready to rehearse. Zack would be explaining to everyone how Katie had quit. He would be irked, but more confused than anything. Lawrence would look passively concerned. Freddie would be angry. Marta, Tomika, and Alicia would shoot unanswerable questions at Zack. And Summer…
Katie didn’t even know what Summer would do.
Pushing aside thoughts of the band’s first rehearsal without her, Katie put Rilo Kiley in her CD player and thought about writing a song. There wasn’t much a bassist could do without a band though, and she’d never fancied herself much of a singer so writing lyrics to perform on her own would do nothing for her. With the CD playing she resolved herself to at least attempting to write a song, but, as she rested her pencil against the page of her notebook, she found all she could do was sketch a poor doodle of Summer’s sleeping face. She sighed through her nose and felt a lump rise in her throat.
“And I feel nothing, not safe,” her speakers sang melodically. “It’s a hard day for breathing again.”
“Fuck,” Katie muttered to herself. “Fuck.”
She pulled her coat on and felt her cigarettes in her pocket. She remembered Summer trying to get her to quit. Katie had planned to give the pack to Summer but that notion didn’t seem plausible anymore.
~ ~ ~
By Friday, Katie had become a self-proclaimed chain-smoking loner. She had avoided her friends all week and managed to walk home in the rain every day by herself. That actually makes it seem harder than it actually was-in reality, Katie hadn’t needed to avoid her friends as none of them had approached her anyway. And walking home alone wasn’t necessarily a choice. Even if she’d wanted company, no one seemed to want to give it to her. The worst part was, she couldn’t blame anyone.
Taking a hard drag and exhaling through her nose, Katie pulled her hood over her eyes and didn’t notice the person standing in front of her until she realized she could no longer walk straight.
Lifting her eyes, she stared straight into the familiar deep brown irises of Summer. Katie felt a familiar twinge of desire, quickly being replaced with dread and nausea. She bowed her head and attempted to pass, but Summer grabbed her arm.
“I’m sick of watching you walk home every day by yourself,” Summer said quietly. She didn’t sound stern at all.
“It’s okay,” Katie mumbled, trying again to get away.
Summer’s grip tightened. “It’s not.”
Katie looked at her. Summer’s face was tight with misery and she said, quietly again, “I used to think about what it would be like to leave for college and not have you with me every day. And then this week happened and suddenly this person that was such a big part of my life was gone.”
She paused, looking sheepish. Katie halfway didn’t want her to finish her sentence because her hopes were getting dramatically high and the last thing she wanted to do was be set up for a heartbreak. Instinctively, they began walking towards Katie’s house. Summer, as though reading Katie’s mind, didn’t finish her statement. They reached Katie’s and sat on the floor of her room, ringing out their clothes and combing their fingers through their wet hair. Katie hit play on her CD player and Rilo Kiley started up all over again. She turned her back on Summer, rummaging around on her dresser for a brush and hastily trying to comb the knots out of her hair. She felt Summer’s slender fingers close around her wrist and pull her arm away from her hair. Katie felt her body freeze. She felt something brush against her back and was suddenly very aware of how close Summer was standing to her. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
“I felt like I wasn’t a whole person,” Summer said softly, almost in a whisper, her lips very close to brushing Katie’s ear. They were so close Katie could smell Summer’s faint perfume and her head began to swim. “And I realized that this is how a break up should feel. And even though I’ve had a lot of break ups, there was never one that felt like this.”
Katie felt nearly faint with nerves and desire. She turned herself around, wrenching her wrist from Summer’s grasp and staring into her face, searching for something. Summer’s expression was stone, but her eyes were wet.
“I'm sorry I freaked out. I didn't understand what I was feeling,” she continued. “And I still don't really know. I’ve never felt this way for…for anyone actually, but especially not a girl.”
Katie shook her head and swallowed. “Neither have I.”
“I don’t know if I’m gay.”
“I don’t know either. Does it matter?”
Summer smiled nervously. “No, I guess not.”
Katie picked at a loose string on the end of her blazer anxiously, staring intently at Summer, who stared intently back. And then, as though magnetized and drawn to each other, they both leaned in quickly and their lips were against each others, their tongues entwined, fingers in hair, hands against backs against fronts against shirts underneath shirts and there was a floor beneath them and then there wasn’t and there was clothing and then there wasn’t and then and then and then…
And then when Katie woke up later on and she felt Summer nestled against her back, she allowed herself to move slightly, just to turn and look at her, and Summer’s eyes opened lazily and she pressed their bodies together and kissed her as the rain fell outside.