Chapter Text
Toni’s back hits the mattress harder than she intended. She doesn’t care. It’s hard to when Shelby fucking Goodkind is on top of her, pushing her backwards, a hungry, blown out look in her eyes that never fails to drive Toni a little crazy, but there was a time when Toni might have.
Toni could never stand Shelby.
Right from the beginning, when Toni had switched high schools part way through senior year and Shelby was on the welcome committee, Toni had decided straight away she didn’t like her.
Prim and proper - not a blonde hair out of place - a fucking perfect smile, stupid perfect eyes, lichen green and so fucking soft. It had taken Toni all of two seconds to judge that between the preppy pink headband and the dainty cross that hung from a silver chain round Shelby’s neck that she was bad news for someone like Toni.
Above her, Shelby settles in her lap and Toni reaches up to hook her fingers under the hem of her T-shirt, still fucking baby pink after all these years, and Shelby raises her arms so Toni can quickly tug it over her head.
Yeah, the time that Toni might have cared about Shelby Goodkind topping her was long gone. But that didn’t mean she was going to fucking broadcast it.
Because, while they fuck like this regularly - almost routinely now - Toni still can’t stand Shelby. Not really.
She’s just as prim and proper and as fucking straight as she was back then. That’s what Shelby says, anyway.
Toni doesn’t buy it, obviously.
But sex is sex, and Shelby is fucking hot, and Toni’s so fucking gay that she can’t pretend Shelby doesn’t do it for her, especially in the ways she’s seen her now, her perfect cheeks flushed red, makeup smudged, hair messy beneath Toni’s fingers, eyes rolling back and fluttering closed, face creased in a drawled moan.
Yeah, okay, fucking sue her. Shelby turns Toni Shalifoe on more than anything.
More than anyone.
So Toni never questions it, not outwardly. They fuck, it’s fun, they both enjoy it. There’s nothing more to it than that.
Above her, Shelby unclasps her bra and throws it into the half-lit space of Toni’s room with practiced precision.
Toni blows out a breath as she sees Shelby’s breasts, just as perfect now as they were when she first saw them, her nipples already pebbled, though Toni’s barely touched Shelby yet, except for their heated, desperate kisses - that Shelby had instigated, Toni hastens to add - when she’d shown up banging at Toni’s door, silencing Toni with her lips when she’d opened it, groggy and confused, and sliding her tongue into Toni’s mouth to smooth out the wrinkle of her frown.
It worked.
It always fucking works.
Shelby’s been doing it more and more recently, showing up unannounced like this: desperate and wreaked and fucking wet for her.
Well… Toni pretends it’s for her. In the moment it’s easy to. It’s not. That’s what Shelby says.
Not that Toni’s complaining.
It’s why she agreed to their little arrangement in the first place. Because Toni loves making someone as stunning as Shelby feel like that, and loves every touch, gasp and moan Shelby gives her in return, no matter how restrained they usually are.
It doesn’t matter that Shelby insists all of this is practice, that she’s not gay, that it doesn’t count if she doesn’t finish with Toni, not really. Because it all completely fucking tracks and Toni doesn’t care. Shelby can live in whatever stupid, deluded version of reality she wants. It’s not Toni’s problem.
It’s not even important, actually.
Call her cunt-struck if you like, Toni doesn’t give a shit. (Like you fucking would? Be real).
Toni sits up and Shelby loops her arms around Toni’s neck then tangles her fingers into her hair, pulling her closer, towards her chest, until she can feel Toni’s lips ghosting over her stiff nipples. Shelby gasps and an all-too-familiar heat shudders through Toni's body; pulses between the apex of the thighs.
Ignoring it, Toni’s hands find Shelby’s hips like they always do, and she holds her there, her fingers caressing back and forth in that space between hard bone and supple skin.
Shelby’s head falls back, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders in wild, golden waves, as though she hadn’t bothered to straighten it today. Her breathing stutters as Toni closes her lips around Shelby’s nipple and presses her fingers harder into Shelby’s hips, enjoying the whimper elicited from the soft sting of her nails.
Toni flicks her tongue over Shelby, then drags it in a slow circle in the way she knows Shelby likes. She's rewarded instantly with a low moan that vibrates right through Toni's body, electric and tingling in just the right kind of way.
Fuck, if Toni had any sense she'd be embarrassed by how quickly Shelby turns her on. By how she's addicted to those whimpers and gasps and moans.
"Oh god," Shelby whispers into the darkness.
Okay. There is one tiny problem: for all Shelby’s insistence that she’s straight and that none of this counts, Toni can tell that Shelby doesn’t mean it.
She hears it. She can smell it. She can fucking feel it.
Shelby shifts in her lap, as if to evidence Toni’s point, and the material of her mini skirt adjusts, and she presses against Toni’s leg.
Toni feels her instantly, but she muffles a surprised moan into Shelby’s skin, her breath hot on Shelby’s chest, chasing it with her teeth when she realizes Shelby’s not wearing anything under there. That she’s made the short walk between their rooms fucking pantiless.
And Toni thinks she might combust on the spot.
That’s new.
Not so proper.
And she’s not just worked up from the few minutes she’s been here. Shelby is dripping, hot and smooth and slick against Toni’s thigh and fuck, Toni feels all the nerve endings in her body drop between her legs and throb in a way that's almost painfully hard. It’s no fucking accident. Shelby is too calculated for that. Toni knows it’s deliberate, to drive her insane, and Shelby knew it would work.
Toni’s imagination is already racing, seeing Shelby, thinking of winding Toni up, touching herself, gasping quietly alone in her room, her panties round her ankles, fingers buried in her skirt, getting slicker and slicker until she couldn’t help it anymore, and she was up and at Toni’s door before she could calculate the risk of Toni not being in.
Or being fucking awake at 2am.
Truthfully, Toni will never mind being woken up for a booty call with Shelby, but you’d never hear her say that. It would not look good to admit she is wrapped around the little finger of the ultra-Christian, very straight, all round good-girl. Toni likes to give the illusion of standards at least. She has a reputation to protect.
She is very awake now though, as she scratches her nails up the tops of Shelby’s thighs, pushing her skirt higher, and feels Shelby shudder, lips against her chest still, lapping up the vibrations from Shelby’s sternum as she rewards Toni with with the fucking softest moans. Every cell in Toni’s body feels like it’s trembling in anticipation, each one fine-tuned to everything Shelby, the saltiness of her skin, the way the subtle citrus of her perfume mingles with the earthiness of her arousal, the little o her mouth makes when Toni teases her nipples, the white press of her lips together when Toni ghosts the pads of her fingers between her thighs; Toni’s body fucking sings for it, for Shelby writhing and twitching and trying so hard not to come.
She never does.
It’s a line they don’t cross, have never crossed, as much as Toni deep down wants to, but only because it’s actually kind of an insult to her talents that she can make Shelby this fucking soaked and not get her over the edge. It’s her pride. Nothing else. Swear.
Toni rubs her palms up Shelby’s thighs, smoothing where the sting of her nails had been, then dips her thumbs between the apex of Shelby’s legs and brushes slow, deliberate circles there, feather-light, so close to where Shelby wants it, but not giving it to her, not yet.
Toni already knows it will be fast this time because even now Shelby feels like she’s so close; is so worked up Toni wonders if she’s already made herself come before she got here. And, it’s fucked, Toni knows that, but there’s a part of her that doesn’t want Shelby to go, doesn’t want it to be over that quickly, because she knows as soon as Shelby feels like she can’t control it anymore she’ll be gone.
She has to. Because it’s just practice.
Above her Shelby shudders into her inhale and Toni flits her eyes up to watch Shelby’s face as she inches her thumbs closer to her clit. Toni caresses the skin above it, still light, still teasing and Shelby’s eyelids flutter open. And Toni was already a little breathless from the speed of it all - from groggy to surprised to turned on, Toni’s body rushing to catch up with her - but Toni’s heart hammers against her ribcage when Shelby’s eyes meet hers and her lungs burn.
It’s Toni’s favorite fucking thing. And it never fails to take her breath away.
All the years, all their history: the bitterness and judgement and anger Toni has built and harbored and nurtured for Shelby always fucking melts away when they’re looking at each other like this, as though none of it matters. Toni thinks it’s what stops her from putting an end to it; moving on from this kind of fucked up deal they have going on and see someone else. Because Toni’s not sure anyone will ever come close to making her feel the way she does when Shelby fucking looks at her.
She can forgive Shelby in those moments. She can brush aside everything she did to her.
Toni thinks it’s the closest she comes to finding peace with it all. Moving on.
But then Shelby always says something that ruins it. Ruins the way she’s shuddering and sighing so fucking prettily in Toni’s lap.
“It’s real good of you to help me out like this, Toni.”
Toni grimaces, her teeth grinding as her jaw works. Help her out. The conditional line in the sand that she's pretty sure they both know is a lie. A house of cards that they both hold their breath around in the fear that one wrong move will bring it all crashing down.
Toni huffs in reply and presses her thumb firmly against Shelby’s clit.
Shelby’s hips buck and she whimpers, her fingers knotting hard in Toni’s hair. Toni loves that. She’s never told Shelby. Toni can’t tell her that she loves all the little signs Shelby gives when she’s barely keeping it together. The signs that she's enjoying this. Enjoying the way Toni makes her feel.
“Did I wake you?” Shelby asks, glancing down between them at the loose tee and boxers Toni is wearing, as though she’s just realized they’re pajamas.
Toni frowns. What the fuck is she doing? They don’t do this. They don’t make fucking small talk. Not about normal things anyway. Certainly not when Toni’s fingers are up Shelby’s skirt.
“No, I was up,” Toni lies quickly.
“You have class early tomorrow.”
Toni flicks her eyes to Shelby’s. How does she know her fucking schedule? Shelby’s never spoken to Toni about her college degree, not even as a passing pleasantry when they’d bumped into each other on campus for the first time, though that might have had something to do with Toni’s choice words.
Toni still remembers the smug sting of making Shelby angry, wiping that stupid, stunning smile from her face, Shelby’s cheeks pinking and her perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed as she’d watched Toni leave.
“Whatever,” Toni dismisses, pressing against Shelby again, a little harder this time.
It stops whatever reply Shelby has. Instead, her lips part and her nails scratch against Toni’s scalp. Toni sucks in a breath, heat tingling down her neck, dripping down her spine, pooling lower. Hotter.
“Didn’t you have to retake your last test?” Shelby gasps persistently.
Toni’s face twists into a snarl. “What does it matter? It didn’t count.”
“If you say so.”
Toni eyebrows pinch as an all too familiar anger kindles in her stomach. She needs Shelby to shut up, and quickly.
In reply, Toni circles her thumb against Shelby’s clit slowly, in the way Toni knows she likes, and when Shelby quivers and hisses “Oh- Yes, like that, ” Toni realizes it was what she had wanted all along.
It annoys Toni more than it should that Shelby can read her so easily; that she knew Toni was going slow on purpose; that she knew talking to her - deliberately winding her up - would make Toni go fast.
Something aches beneath Toni’s ribs.
Shelby wants this over quickly as much as Toni wants to draw it out.
Well, two can play at that game.
Toni stills her thumb against Shelby’s clit, feeling her heartbeat throb against it. Something flips behind Toni’s navel, angry and aroused and hurt all at once.
Shelby whimpers when she realizes Toni isn’t moving and her hips twitch greedily, her eyes meeting Toni’s again in silent apology.
“How do you want it this time?” Toni husks, injecting more venom into her voice than she really feels, hating the way Shelby’s eyebrows lift in surprise at it.
They’ve practiced a lot of positions, Toni all too willing to participate in Shelby’s experiments. Toni knows no matter which way they wind up doing it Shelby likes it slow then quick, she prefers it when their bodies are pressed close like this, and that she never lasts long on the (very) rare occasion she touches Toni first. Toni knows Shelby likes to kiss before sometimes, but never during.
Still, Toni’s heart thunders in her chest as she awaits Shelby’s instruction, all too ready to give Shelby what she wants.
“Oh-”
And now Shelby’s on the back foot, about as good at describing what she wants as Toni is at making small talk with her, and Toni smirks as Shelby falters. Toni feels better when she’s leading things because there’s something about Shelby taking control that Toni likes a bit too much.
“What were you thinking about, before?” Toni pushes, moving her thumb just a fraction against Shelby so it’s resting beside her clit.
Shelby’s eyes flutter closed a moment and she rolls her lips into her mouth as though she’s suppressing a moan.
“Don’t know what you mean,” Shelby replies airily, her eyes opening again to meet Toni’s in a challenge.
“Mmm,” Toni replies and slides a finger to Shelby’s entrance, feather light, barely touching her, but it’s instantly coated in Shelby’s arousal. Toni scoffs. “Don’t play games Shelby. You know exactly what I mean.”
Shelby moans softly, the sound catching in her throat as though she can’t help it.
“Is that what you want?” Toni pushes, her voice steely as she applies light pressure to Shelby’s entrance. “Do you want to ride my finger in my lap?”
Shelby meets Toni’s eyes again, pupils blown and dark against lichen-green. Toni instantly reads her answer there but she wants to hear Shelby say it. Because when Shelby says she wants Toni to fuck her, whichever way they’re doing it, Toni can forget that Shelby’s pretending it’s not Toni fucking her, and lose herself in it all.
Toni drops her voice, drops the bitterness for a moment, and whispers softly, “Tell me what you want, Shelby.”
“I want that,” Shelby confirms, rolling her hips forward a little so Toni’s finger presses against her a bit more, “but I want two.”
Toni moans and presses her lips against Shelby’s collarbone. She screws her eyes closed as a her whole body pulses with a delicious ache, anger melting into dripping lust. Toni shifts a little where her legs are folded beneath Shelby trying to find some relief that doesn’t come. She can feel the thin material of her boxers clinging to her tightly where she's wettest, brushing against her clit maddeningly every time she moves.
“I’m real wet today, Toni,” Shelby drawls thickly, cupping Toni’s jaw and drawing their eyes back together which does nothing to help the arousal pooling between Toni’s legs. “I wanna feel what it’s like with a little more.”
Toni nods up at her eagerly, unable to even pretend she’s not so fucking ready to give Shelby that. They've practiced penetration before, but they've been taking it slow at Shelby's request (another thing Toni probably should read less into). Toni's all too happy to draw out their arrangement, doing whatever Shelby feels ready for, because as soon as Shelby doesn't need to practice anymore... Toni wonders if that’s why Shelby’s worked herself up before today, making sure she was so fucking insatiably horny - to prevent her second guessing it. Maybe that’s what she was thinking about, in answer to Toni’s earlier question: being filled for the first time.
And she's asking Toni to help her feel that. Toni's stomach flips.
“Tell me when you want me to stop,” Toni murmurs, ghosting her lips along the underside of Shelby’s jaw, agreeing to Shelby’s ground rules again without being asked, just like she does every time. Agreeing to not make her come, as much as it goes against what she wishes she could do.
It’s not about her, Toni gets that. No one forced her to agree to Shelby’s terms, so she only has herself to blame for any disappointment she might feel. And, it's stupid, but despite everything Shelby’s done to her, there’s some soft, compassionate part of Toni that wants Shelby to feel safe with her. As bitter as she is about how it all went down, and as frustrated Shelby’s delusion makes her, deep down Toni knows Shelby’s fighting a whole heap of demons, and as much as she doesn’t like Shelby, Toni doesn’t think she deserves that.
Shelby nods, “Yeah. I will.” Her throat bobs as she says it, and Toni feels Shelby’s pulse thump hard against her lips.
It’s not always one sided. Sometimes Shelby gets Toni off, like, all the way, mumbling some excuse that it will help her understand herself more if she feels what she can do to her. Toni absolutely doesn’t buy that either but she never questions it, not even internally. (She might be cunt-struck but she’s not stupid. If Shelby Goodkind wants to make her orgasm you better believe she is not about to say no).
So Toni knows Shelby’s good for it, no matter if she means it for Toni or not.
Toni chases the kiss with her tongue, trailing it down and over Shelby’s pulse point before pulling back and flicking her eyes up to meet Shelby’s again. Shelby’s lips are parted as she watches Toni work with a blissful, fucking reverent look softly pulling at her features.
Ignoring the way her stomach flutters and clenches, Toni holds eye contact as she adds a second finger to the one at Shelby’s entrance, then swirls them together, feathering her touch, loving the pretty moans she pulls from Shelby’s open lips.
Shelby manages to keep her eyes open and locked with Toni as Toni circles her fingers again, eyelids becoming heavy when Toni connects her palm to Shelby’s clit.
And fuck, Toni is so gay, and it’s hard to have a coherent thought when Shelby’s watching her fuck her, but god help her, Toni is so fucking certain that Shelby isn’t straight in that second.
“Inside?” Toni checks as she loops her fingers around and then dips in only barely, volunteering Shelby a taste of what she’s offering.
Shelby’s eyes finally screw closed with a whimper and she nods, dropping her hands from Toni’s head to her shoulders, her nails stinging as she scrapes them down Toni’s neck and onto her back beneath her tee. Static shoots down Toni’s spine and she barely suppresses a shudder. She hopes that leaves a mark. Something to remember this by in the morning, to remind Toni she didn’t dream it.
“Yeah,” Shelby breathes into Toni’s half-lit room.
She pushes up on her knees, straddling Toni now, creating space for Toni’s wrist between them like a fucking invitation, and Toni does not need to be asked twice. Heart pounding more nervously than Toni would like to admit, she adjusts so the angle is better for Shelby, slowly dipping one finger in deeper, until Shelby has easily taken the full length of her.
“Two,” Shelby demands immediately.
“I was just- Fuck, okay,” Toni starts to explain but then concedes, slackjawed at the confidence Shelby’s displaying tonight, now convinced that Shelby had wanted this all along.
She’s not like this usually.
The thought occurs to Toni that maybe she’s had a fight with Andrew, her boyfriend, but she quashes it as soon as it starts to grow. That asshole doesn’t deserve to hold space in Toni’s head.
And who the fuck cares if she has anyway?
Not Toni.
Shelby’s an adult. She can make whatever fucked up decisions she wants to.
“Toni,” Shelby whines, as though she thinks Toni’s stopped deliberately again. “I can take it.”
Toni swallows hard and flicks her eyes to meet Shelby’s, her finger nestled in an ocean of Shelby’s silky heat. She doesn’t doubt that.
“Yeah, okay.”
Toni shifts back so she has a better view of Shelby’s face as she withdraws her finger all the way before adding a second and pressing into Shelby slowly.
Shelby releases a frayed breath. Her eyebrows draw together and her nails press harder into Toni’s shoulders as Toni reaches her full length. Toni's stomach swoops as she feels Shelby tighten around her and she gives her a second to adjust to it.
"Good?" She checks.
Shelby presses her lips together and nods hard. Toni watches attentively as she withdraws then steadily plunges back in, Shelby’s expression melting into bliss. Toni can feel her stretching around her, tight but supple, knows how good it must feel, because the next time she pulls back Shelby’s hips meet her next in stroke and she fucking smiles.
Toni moans gruffly and finds Shelby’s nipple with her free hand, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger and pulling more airy, encouraging whines from Shelby’s mouth while she pumps and curls into Shelby, setting a steady rhythm.
Toni shifts in place, new waves of arousal washing over her with every sound Shelby makes; every fucking smile she rewards Toni with.
It makes Toni feel limitless.
And so fucking horny.
“A little-” Shelby begins, the rest of her sentence consumed in a moan.
“Faster?” Toni finishes for her, reading the way she’s sinking down in her lap harder now when Toni’s at her deepest.
Shelby nods, her words lost.
And though Toni would love to draw this out, to tease Shelby, to show her who’s really calling the shots, she can’t. Because Toni’s pretending just as much as Shelby is. The truth is when she has Shelby like this, soaked and soft in her arms, Toni would do just about anything she asked her to.
Obediently, Toni pumps her fingers faster and Shelby moans so loudly Toni’s sure the walls fucking vibrate. Shelby’s so deliciously silky warm and tight and velvety under the pads of Toni’s fingers. Above her, her eyes pinched shut, Shelby nods again, though Toni hasn’t changed anything, and it’s as though Shelby’s reaffirming to herself that this feels as good as she’d imagined. Toni stifles her own moan behind pressed lips. She feels limitless.
“That okay?” She asks, wanting Shelby’s answer even though she can feel it.
“Fuck Toni, ye-es,” Shelby replies as best she can, her breath hitching despite her best efforts. “Feels so good.”
Toni smirks, her heartbeat doubling, and connects her lips to the column of Shelby’s neck to hide the heat flaming in her cheeks. For all her big talk Toni fucking loves it when Shelby encourages her.
Toni picks up her pace again, reaching deeper than she was before, Shelby rising and falling to meet her pulses, until the room is filled with slick, wet sounds and loud, pretty moans that fall unapologetically from Shelby’s lips.
Toni’s sure her housemates hear.
She doesn’t care. She can pass it off as (another) one night stand. They don’t know they’re all with Shelby. They don’t need to know. It’s just sex. Practice.
Toni can tell Shelby’s really lost in it from the way her head falls back, her body growing heavier and heavier in Toni’s arms until Toni has to wrap her arm around Shelby’s waist and cradle her, firm but softly; her fingers pressing white around the cuticles as Shelby deliquesces.
And then it all happens too quickly.
Toni feels Shelby begin to flutter and clench, a ripple shuddering through her like a premonition and, though Toni slows the pace instantly, for a long, deluded second she thinks Shelby might actually give in to it.
For a moment Toni’s sure Shelby thinks she might too.
She ruts in Toni’s lap, forcing Toni deeper than she intends on the next instroke, but then Shelby’s hand flies to Toni’s wrist and she pants, “Stop, stop, stop, you can’t-”
Toni freezes instantly, the haze of fantasy gone in a piercing sharp instant.
"I can't," Shelby repeats quietly, more to herself.
Meeting Shelby’s eyes in silent warning, Toni pulls out of her slowly and tries to ignore the way Shelby clenches round her with a whispered “Oh-” as though she doesn’t really want it to end.
Shelby holds her stare, breathing heavily, pupils still blown and hungry. Then, flicking her eyes to Toni’s lips, she dips her head as though she’s leaning in for a kiss, a kiss that Toni wants so fucking badly in that beat, but then something cold breaks across her complexion.
Shelby’s off of Toni in a second and standing, running her hands over her mini skirt to flatten it, fumbling round the room for the rest of her clothes.
Toni watches, unmoving, the sweat on her skin growing cold, her arms limp in her lap and fingers curling into fists as Shelby tugs on her baby-pink tee, not bothering with her bra, backing away towards Toni’s door as though she can’t trust herself to turn her back on Toni.
Toni still doesn’t move.
Then, with a muttered pleasantry that Toni doesn’t hear over the ringing in her ears, she’s gone.
Just like always.
And just like always, Toni counts her footsteps as she leaves.
Three years earlier
The bottle clunked rhythmically against the bare wooden floorboards as it spun. Toni’s heart pounded in her ears, drowning out the thrum of the party below, though the music’s low bass still bled through into the tiny attic room.
Toni was sure it was only her association to Fatin that got her the invite to the Goodkind’s lakehouse party. Fatin was outspoken and a little brash, but was an all round smooth talker and it was her unique ability to deliver high quality bullshit that had her sweet talking her way into the Goodkind family hearts.
But it was Martha, Toni’s all-but adopted sister, that was the real reason Toni had agreed to come.
The bottle scraped against a crack between the boards as it slowed. The neck pointed right at Shelby. She giggled, bringing both hands up to cover the flash of her smile and Toni felt something that wasn't quite anger, but close to it, spit in her belly.
It’s not that Toni cared. It was just…
Of course it had fucking landed on Shelby.
There were only a few of them playing, a couple of guys that Toni knew to be part of Shelby’s church group, Fatin, a jacked up guy on the football team that Toni's pretty sure Fatin was sleeping with, his friend - the bottle’s spinner - (who was the living breathing version of toxic masculinity) and Toni, standing in for Martha, much to the chagrin of Masculinity. Toni’d been watching him ogle girls all night and she was protective to a fault when it came to her best friend.
Right now though, his eyes were on Shelby, a sleazy grin growing as he waggled his eyebrows at her. Toni felt sick.
Shelby shuffled across the circle and leaned forward, and it was right at Toni’s fucking eyeline, where she brushed her lips against his.
Shelby pulled back before Masculinity could deepen it, but not before Toni’s hands were clenching by her sides, her nails pressing into her palms.
His friend clapped him on the back when he leaned back, as though he’d won one of their stupid fucking football trophies. Not trying to hide it, Toni rolled her eyes.
That feeling surfaced again, acerbic, rising like bile up her throat, roiling in her stomach. Toni didn't know why it made her so angry. Like, she didn't care who Shelby kissed, not really, but something about her kissing that guy made Toni feel like she wanted to punch something.
Unaffected by the twist of Toni’s scowl, Shelby took a sip of her drink before reaching for the bottle again, then leaned across the circle and passed it to Toni for her to take her go. Their hands brushed as Toni reached for it and she could have sworn Shelby froze when her lichen-green eyes snapped to hers, widening, as though she felt the same electricity that Toni had.
The acidic feeling evaporated in an instant, exploding into a thousand butterfly wings that fluttered and tickled and made Toni’s head feel like it’d spun loose.
Toni cleared her throat and muttered a thanks, dropping her gaze back to the beer bottle, withdrawing quickly.
Toni’s spin landed on Fatin and, truthfully, she was a little relieved, because Fatin made a big show of it, opening her arms wide with, “Pucker up and lay it on me Shalifoe,” and a wink.
Toni smirked and quipped, “If I have to,” with an exaggerated eye roll.
“Don’t be shy.”
The kiss was chaste and was over before it really began but Toni couldn't miss the eyes that followed her profile, lichen-green and striking against perfectly blonde hair, widening in horror. In disgust? Probably.
Toni could feel them on her, even when she closed her own. Judging her. Because Shelby knew she was gay - it was pretty hard to fucking miss - and though the music beneath them seeped through like a muffled roar, Toni caught the sharp, shaky intake of breath that passed Shelby’s lips as soon as Toni’s touched Fatin’s.
Withdrawing abruptly, something spiky settled in Toni’s abdomen.
The game continued but Toni could feel it every time she took a breath, that thorny feeling, digging into her more and more every time she heard Shelby giggle. Every time Shelby's fingers went to the little crucifix that hung on a short, silver chain by her collarbone.
By the time it was Shelby’s turn Toni’s not sure why but her heart was beating out of her chest.
Shelby took another swig from whatever was in her red cup, then reached for the bottle. Toni couldn't help but notice the way her lips glistened. Or the way her tongue darted between them absentmindedly.
Dumbstruck, Toni watched as Shelby placed the bottle on the floor, centre circle, twisted her wrist then flicked, her acrylics scraping against the glass with a hollow echo as the bottle released.
Toni felt like the whole room dropped away until it was just her and Shelby sitting opposite one another, the bottle spinning between them like an inevitability, though that was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous.
Shelby’s eyes met hers.
The bottle spun and spun, slowing in increments until, after what felt like a lifetime, it finally stopped.
It was pointed at Toni.
For a long moment no one said anything.
Toni’s heart was beating faster and faster; faster than it ever had before. She didn't know why. She didn't even like Shelby. She could kiss her. It wouldn’t mean anything. It was just a game. It was just a stupid kiss.
So why did the air feel like it was holding its breath?
Shelby’s eyes were widening and her lips were parted as though she was trying to find words she’d lost. Beside Shelby, Fatin frowned.
Just as Toni was about the swallow her pride, Shelby blurted, “I want a do-over!”
The air soured.
“What?” Toni said without thinking. It’s not like she wanted to kiss Shelby but it was just fucking like her to make everyone else play properly and then make up her own fucking rules.
“I want a real kiss.”
Toni’s brain was too busy frying itself and it took her way too long to catch up. She could give Shelby a ‘real’ kiss, if she wanted? Like, an open mouthed kiss maybe? Or a longer one? Or, oh fuck, did she want Toni to use her-
“You want…”
“You’re a girl, silly,” Shelby pointed out as though Toni was being dumb, “it wouldn’t count.”
Oh.
Toni was being dumb.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Toni blurted, angry but mostly hurt, all feelings of butterflies and dainty wings incinerated.
“Well, it’s not the same is it? Not like kissin’ a boy.”
Toni scoffed.
She knew it. She fucking knew it.
There had always been something off about Shelby. The way she'd looked at her in her basketball kit, as though Toni was showing too much skin. (Which was really fucking ironic because it was modest compared to Shelby’s cheer uniform). The way she'd pretended to be her friend at first, all fake smiles that had never reached her eyes. The way that as the semester had progressed Shelby had avoided Toni more and more.
That preppy pink headband was like a fucking premonition.
“Isn’t it?” Toni spat back, scowling, her blood rushing in her ears, hands balling into fists.
Toni knew Shelby’s family were the ultra-religious, ‘not-my-daughter’, type but in all honesty Toni'd expected better of Shelby. She’d expected her at least to hold her fucking tongue.
It’s wasn't like there weren't a million other excuses she could have used.
“No, Toni, it’s not.” Shelby replied resoundingly, but in a voice that wasn't quite hers, and her eyes dropped to the floor. Her acrylics picked at the edge of the floorboard.
“Shelby.” Fatin’s voice was low, disappointed, warning Shelby to drop it before she continued.
It was too late for Toni. She’d heard enough. She jumped to her feet, her heart pounding in the fight mode she always reverted to. But, somewhere buried under the waves of red mist, Toni wanted to cry.
“Fuck you."
Martha was up now beside Toni, her hands on Toni’s tensed arms. Toni felt her body shaking like it wasn't her own.
“Come on Toni, let’s go.”
Toni said nothing for a moment, her eyes burning into Shelby, who for all her talk at least had the good sense to look embarrassed.
“Stay the fuck away from me,” Toni snapped, jabbing a finger across the circle. She turned sharply on her heels, her weathered converse squeaking against the boards, and marched from the room.
When Toni kicked the door shut behind her and it slammed with an intensity that made the walls shudder, she didn't look back. She didn't see the lichen-green eyes filling with tears as they watched her go.