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The first time it happens is after the flag football game. After years of trading bitchy insults at the annual event and those rare moments they see each other in town, it’s all culminated in this moment. They’re standing inches apart in the parking lot, alone, chests heaving from all the shouting, bodies sore from the fight Dorian just broke up on the field. The blood is rushing to Lizzie’s head and she thinks she’s about to black out from anger. But she’s not going to let that happen, not when she’ll be vulnerable in front of her worst enemy, and not when that enemy still thinks she can have the last word.
Spots are pricking the edges of Lizzie’s already blurry vision as she surges forward in some desperate attempt to do something to her annoyingly perfect face—punch her again, scratch her, spit on her, anything. Dana takes a step back, saying, “Let’s just think ab—”
“I’m done thinking!” Lizzie shouts, determined to drown her out. “I’m done pretending to lose year after year after year when I could wipe the fucking floor with you like I almost did today!”
She lunges, forming a fist, and aims for Dana’s jaw.
Dana sidesteps her at the last moment, and instead Lizzie’s fist collides with an earsplitting crack against one of the cars. Her voice is taunting, but her eyes betray her fear when she says, “Really? ‘Wipe the floor’ with me? Please. You got lucky today, psycho, nothing more than that.”
Vaguely, Lizzie registers the shrill blaring of the car alarm, but she’s too busy hissing, her insides now a boiling mixture of pain and anger.
Psycho? Did she just call her psycho?
“I’ll show you psycho,” she whispers, and lunges again, still with no plan.
She doesn’t know how it happens exactly, but when Lizzie slams into Dana with her entire body and knocks her into the grass at the edge of the parking lot, her head bumps into hers.
Later, she’ll tell herself it was an accident, but no accident can explain how one set of their lips catches the other and holds for a perfectly still, almost blissful second. It’s nasty and sweaty and they both pause in shock, but then just as quickly, Dana suddenly grabs both sides of her face and yanks Lizzie into her, deepening the kiss. Her left hand fumbles on the hems of Lizzie’s uniform while her right starts to snake up the inside of her leg. That’s about when Lizzie realizes the absolute insanity of what is happening and breaks away.
“Wait. No, no, no,” she mutters, mostly to herself. “We’re not doing this.” She reaches out to push her away.
But then she looks at Dana again, below her with her wild, dilated pupils and now mussed hair with pine needles stuck in it, and her miniskirt hiking up the side of her legs, and Lizzie makes a choice. She does the opposite of push her away. She drags her back onto her feet and shoves her further into the woods, away from the cars and the buildings and the potential view of anyone. After deciding they’re far enough away, Lizzie shoves her again for good measure, this time against the trunk of a tree. They’re nose to nose, and Lizzie is pressing her entire form into Dana while she watches.
And then she kisses her again, the anger still burning within her. Maybe if she kisses her hard enough, she’ll make it hard for her to breathe.
~~~
The second time it happens is no more intentional than the first. One minute they’re insulting each other in front of all their respective friends because Lizzie and the Salvatore kids are picking up garbage while the Mystic High kids themselves are the garbage. Lizzie says as much to the pack of them who just spray painted the windows to force them to clean even more. The next moment, Dana has said “Talk. Now. Privately”, pulled her into the alleyway behind Mystic Grill, and shoved her into the wall, all in a matter of seconds.
Lizzie bristles and pushes slightly against Dana’s form. She’s supposed to be the one doing the shoving.
Dana seems to know exactly what she’s thinking, because she smiles mockingly as she leans forward into the crook of Lizzie’s neck. Her hot breath tickles her skin as she tilts her head up so the tips of her lips are brushing the side of Lizzie’s ear. “I’m on top now,” she says.
“This time, maybe,” is all Lizzie says back, even as her heart continues beating wildly. For some reason, she’s content to let her be the pushy one right now.
Dana grins wider. Her fingers find their way between Lizzie’s legs. Lizzie, for her part, tries not to like how good it feels, but she can’t help tilting her head up and groaning ever-so-softly. Anything louder, and she would be surrendering control, no pretenses about it. And Lizzie fucking Saltzman isn’t going to lose control over something as trivial as Dana.
She focuses her words on needling her instead, even as she struggles to keep her voice even. “Trying to make Connor jealous? Is that what I am? What MG was?”
Dana scoffs. “If I was using you to make Connor jealous, you’d know, he’d know, and the entire world would know.”
“A—and MG?”
Dana leans forward conspiratorially. “To make you jealous.”
It’s Lizzie’s turn to scoff. “Didn’t work.” She kisses Dana sloppily, then snarls against her lips, “I feel nothing for you.”
“Trust me, the feeling’s fucking mutual.”
They kiss again.
~~~
The third time it happens, Lizzie can’t really pretend it’s an accident anymore. She’s standing in the middle of the woods again; again, they are shouting. About what, she can’t exactly remember, but then, she never remembers the starts of her arguments with Dana, because they piss her off too much.
“You’re me!” Dana is screaming. “You’re so narcissistic that you’re having sex with someone who is exactly like you!”
“Shut up,” Lizzie growls, advancing on her. “Shut up!”
“What, no witty comebacks?”
“Actually, yeah.”
“For once.”
“You—” She stops. She knows Dana’s just goading her. It’s odd, but doing all this has helped her learn to take a step back, think more objectively in other parts of her life.
If only it would stop her from doing this, too.
“If I’m just like you, what does that make you, by having sex with me?”
Dana has no answer for that. Lizzie flashes her a smug smile. There’s no real feeling here, and no one’s winning, but she likes getting lost in her. There’s no monsters to fight with Dana but her own reflection.
So she lets herself lose control again.