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It happens in slow motion, right in front of her.
A hulking black pickup, brand new and doubtlessly fueled by equal parts gasoline and testosterone, tears across the intersection a full second after her light turns green. Kahlan punches her brakes and jerks to a halt, but the car in front of her was already halfway through their left turn.
She watches, frozen, as the small red sedan spins to the side with a screech of rubber and a sickening crunch of metal. The black pickup barrels on through; Kahlan’s jaw drops. She barely notices the smashed headlight and sizable dent on the truck—her eyes are locked on the car coming to a swaying rest in the center of the intersection.
Nobody moves. For long seconds, the world is frozen—other cars still have their blinkers on, her light is changing from green to yellow, and Kahlan tries to swallow down shock.
Then the driver side door flies open, a blonde girl her own age wearing shorts and a red top stumbles out, and it becomes quickly apparent from her stance and the sheer volume of her voice that she’s at least mostly unharmed. “Motherfucking asshole!” she screams. She then whirls furiously on every car at the intersection as if they’re all collectively responsible.
Kahlan is blindly fumbling for her cellphone in the seat beside her when she recognizes the girl. Her hand finds her phone and she quickly punches in 911. She shifts into park, finally releases the brake, and slings open her door. She steps out, tells the emergency operator what happened, and the sound of her own voice, strangely calm, seems to return the world to its proper state.
Cars are beginning to inch forward. It’s three in the afternoon on a Friday; this intersection is right by their school and everyone wants to go home. Nobody wants to stop and help. Kahlan throws out a hand in warning as she steps into the road and they all jerk back to a stop. “Cara,” she calls.
The blonde seems oblivious; she’s standing in the middle of the intersection with arms across her chest as she stares at the front of her car. The pickup apparently just clipped the hood, but the damage is ugly enough to make Kahlan wince. She squeezes the phone into her back pocket and reaches out to touch Cara’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”
Cara whirls to face her and looks utterly confused. “Are you…Kahlan, what are you…”
“You know me?”
Kahlan blanches at the words that just left her, but Cara just tilts her head. “Your name is all over the walls,” she replies. “Everybody knows you.”
“Oh.” Kahlan purses her lips, amazed that she could forget she was re-running for student body president. She doesn’t even like the damned posters plastering the walls inside the school.
She’s saved from having to answer further by a sudden blaring honk; an imminent reminder that several sets of impatient people are staring at them and waiting to let go of their brakes. “We need to move your car,” she says. Cara glares death at every possible suspect, then clenches her jaw and nods tersely.
After moving her own car next to Cara’s on the side of the road, Kahlan stands next to her and inspects the damage. Along with the tangled mess of metal that was the front corner, the corresponding tire is warped and an important-looking fluid is forming a sizable puddle on the pavement.
“You can’t drive it home,” Kahlan observes. Cara lets loose a sigh and it’s almost lost in the cars whizzing past them. “Oh…and I called the cops,” she adds.
Cara rolls her eyes. “What for?”
“That was a hit and run, Cara. It’s somewhat illegal.”
“I got his license plate,” she mutters. “I’ll sue his ass. I don’t need cops.”
“An official statement from the police can only help,” Kahlan says carefully.
Cara pauses to give it thought. “Yeah, alright.”
Sirens sound moments later, and the blonde takes a step back. “Not alright,” she corrects herself hotly, throwing her arms back across her chest. “Why is there an ambulance?”
****
Kahlan has plenty of time to think about what she’s doing while she drives to the hospital.
Cara pitched a near-fit insisting she was fine, but eventually caved. Kahlan almost found herself amused at the sullen look Cara gave her as the rears doors to the ambulance slammed shut between them.
She was apparently Cara’s only “family member, friend, or acquaintance” willing to drive her home after the hospital gave her the once-over. She and the EMTs waited as Cara called and texted, then called some more, then finally glanced hesitantly at Kahlan. “My friends suck,” Cara offered.
Kahlan just nodded. She was well aware of that fact. “I’ll see you there.”
They hadn’t spoken more than a few words to each other during their three and a half years at the same high school. Now, with only a few months left until their graduation, here she is on her way to the hospital as if Cara is her closest friend.
They are definitely not friends, Kahlan reminds herself. They live in two very different worlds. Cara is the head cheerleader of their school’s viciously competitive squad, and herself…well, she had worked her way from treasurer as a freshman up to student body president as a junior.
Her hand grips the steering wheel a little tighter, and she turns the radio up ever so slightly.
“There’s nothing wrong with student government,” Kahlan mutters to herself.
****
Cara appears at the doors to the emergency room an hour later, peeved but none the worse for wear. “I told them I was fine,” she states, sauntering through the sliding glass doors at Kahlan’s side. This time Kahlan can’t help it—she cracks a smile at the blonde’s irrepressible manner.
“So, where do you live?” Kahlan asks.
They emerge into warm bright sunlight and Cara winces, quickly putting on a set of designer sunglasses. “I have an apartment on the east side of town with a friend.”
They’re barely out of the hospital’s parking lot when her fears of a lengthy and awkwardly silent drive are shattered—and not by a topic she expects.
“So how’s single life treating you?” Cara asks. Kahlan shoots her a questioning glance, but her expression is unreadable behind her sunglasses.
“Fine,” Kahlan answers cautiously. She doesn’t know whether to be surprised or embarrassed that the most popular girl in school is aware of the state of her love life. She decides on both. “How do you know…”
“Please,” Cara scoffs. “The way Richard followed you around like a lovesick puppy for three years? It was the definition of obvious when that stopped.”
Kahlan stares at the road ahead. “It took me three tries, you know. To break up with him. He didn’t seem to believe me. Didn’t want to, I guess. He means well, but. He’s just so…clueless, you know?”
Cara returns her glance with a faint smile teasing the corners of her lips. “Clueless is being kind to Richard Cypher. He may be hot, but you could do better. You’re much hotter.”
Kahlan’s eyes snap back to the car in front of them and her hands try four different positions on the wheel within as many seconds. She steals another glance and sees the blonde’s slight smile has bloomed into a grin, and she almost sighs in relief. “You’re joking,” she mutters, almost to herself.
From the corner of her eye, Kahlan sees Cara pull off her sunglasses and shake her hair. “Why would I be joking?” Cara challenges. “You’re really hot, Kahlan.”
Kahlan swallows and risks a glance, and Cara is regarding her with a keen interest that makes her chest flutter in a way that’s not at all unpleasant. She’s hardly forgotten that Cara was openly bi; there are plenty of rumors going around that she sleeps with most of her squad.
Yet even as her gaze darts down across the blonde’s chest to the positively gratuitous amount of tanned thigh her shorts are showing, Kahlan reminds herself that she is straight. That, of course, doesn’t mean she can’t appreciate the fact that Cara herself is ridiculously hot and that low cut top is really distracting and Kahlan still hasn’t responded to…
“Thanks,” Kahlan forces out, almost in a cough, as she returns her attention to the road in front of them. “What about you?”
“Do I think I’m hot?” Cara asks innocently.
Kahlan barely stops herself from answering her own question for her. “Are you single? Weren’t you going out with Leo?”
“Leo was like six months ago,” Cara huffs. “Can we not talk about exes? Exes are boring. The past is boring.”
“Yeah.” Kahlan flashes her an apologetic smile, and Cara returns her shades to her face as that same slight smile, the one from earlier, curls her lips.
****
Kahlan pulls to a stop outside the door of her apartment complex, and Cara drums her fingers on the armrest as she turns to Kahlan. “I suppose I should thank you,” the blonde says offhandedly.
“Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Thanking me,” Kahlan says. “Was that your thanks?” She can barely hide her own smirk at Cara’s sudden discomfort.
“I guess.”
“You’re welcome,” Kahlan replies easily. She smiles, and Cara offers her a broken grin as she opens the door and steps out of Kahlan’s car.
Kahlan has always been good at reading people, and she quickly discovered the secret to conversation with Cara. The blonde respected straightforwardness and a tone just challenging enough to keep things interesting, and it wasn’t long before Kahlan had her at ease. She even coaxed a couple huffs of laughter from her as they found common ground in the form of hated teachers and classmates alike.
She watches, faintly realizing her own smile is still present, as Cara steps away from her car and heads toward the door. Kahlan gazes at her back and can’t help but wonder. Cara will probably ignore her at school, and they probably won’t ever speak of this, if anything, ever again. “Different worlds,” Kahlan whispers to herself.
Then the blonde stops halfway, turns on her heel and walks back to Kahlan’s car. Kahlan’s eyebrows raise and she tries not to look too surprised.
“Can I get your number?” Cara asks. “In case somebody hits my car again,” she adds quickly.
“Sure,” Kahlan says, quickly shoving back thoughts of the many different possible meanings of Cara wanting her phone number. Cara leans in the window, they exchange numbers, and Cara mumbles her thanks.
“Did you not mean it the first time then?” Kahlan wonders aloud, tossing her phone back into the passenger seat.
“What?”
“Your thanks.”
“Shut up, Kahlan.” She says it with a smirk that breaks into a smile, then taps Kahlan’s door before turning around to hide it just as quickly.
When Cara reaches her apartment door, it takes a moment for Kahlan to realize that Cara isn’t opening it. She’s standing there facing it, frozen.
Kahlan’s brow furrows and she calls out through the passenger window. “Something wrong?”
The blonde turns slowly, dramatically, as if she expects to see something truly horrific behind her. “My keys are in my car,” she says tersely.
“Oh. Well is your roommate home?”
Cara shakes her head in answer. “Give me a sec to call her?”
Kahlan turns off the engine and opens the door, not entirely sure why she suddenly feels the need to prove her patience to this girl. But when she steps out and circles the car, trying to shove her hands inside her pockets—she hates wearing jeans this tight—and leaning back against the passenger side door, Cara gives her a short nod of thanks and brings the phone to her ear.
“Dahlia?” Cara barks. “Why the fuck didn’t you pick up earlier?”
Kahlan suddenly realizes this is one conversation she might not want to hear, but Cara doesn’t seem to care.
“Oh, nothing,” she snaps. “I just got in a wreck. Would’ve been great if you’d been there. You could’ve snapped a picture with your goddamn phone while telling me how irresponsible I am…No, it wasn’t my fault! Look, when will you be back? I don’t have my keys and I’m stuck outside the apartment.”
Cara’s eyes darken and Kahlan wonders if she’s about to witness first degree murder of a cellphone and premeditation of a whole lot worse. “That’s fucking great,” Cara all but shouts. “Tell her I said she can keep you.”
Cara stares at the phone. “She’s with Denna,” she says darkly, as if that explains everything. “Two hours away.”
“Oh,” Kahlan says. She’s not about to delve into Cara’s personal life, no matter how easily Cara did so with hers. “Well it’s nearly six, the body shop your car’s at is closed. We can’t get your keys. Maybe call your landlord?” she ventures.
Cara continues regarding her phone as if it holds the answer to several long forgotten secrets. “Good idea,” she finally says.
After plenty of waiting, foot tapping, and staring off into the distance, Cara gives up. “Why is no one answering their goddamn phones,” she growls. She turns to look at Kahlan. “You know what? You should go. I’m just gonna call a cab and crash at the motel a few blocks down.”
Kahlan frowns. “Why can’t I drive you to the motel?”
“Because I’m sure you have better things to do on a Friday night than drive people you barely know around the city,” Cara retorts.
Kahlan strongly considers lying. She almost tells Cara that she’s right, she has places to be and people to see, and that she would see her at school and that she hopes everything works out for her and that…
She looks at Cara, then down at the pavement, then back up at Cara, and shakes her head. “Not a thing,” she informs her ruefully.
Cara cants her head, and Kahlan almost assures her that normally, on Friday nights, she’s out with her friends, drinking and having a good time, and that she definitely doesn’t spend most Friday nights at home watching reruns of Xena: Warrior Princess with her uncle while doing homework.
“Oh,” Cara says. “Well, still. You’ve done…more than enough, for me. I can take it from here. Thank you,” she adds. She spoke the two words clearly this time, not mumbled or phrased awkwardly.
Kahlan smirks. “I think you’re trying to get rid of me.”
“I am not.”
“Then let me drive you.”
Cara whirls away and Kahlan wonders if she’s going to try and kick her own door down. She even seems to tense a little, but eventually turns back and exhales. “Fine.” A slight smirks grows on her face. “I suppose I’ll allow it.”
“Damn right you will,” Kahlan says. “Get in the car.” She pushes off the passenger side door and opens it pointedly.
Cara just gives her a look, almost of appreciation. As if she noticed that her attempt to gain control of the situation had been called out and quickly quashed.
****
“Yeah, that’s the place,” Cara says.
They’re stopped at a red light and Cara is gesturing at the small motel ahead on the right. Kahlan barely hears her; she’s too busy trying to convince herself that this is a horrible idea.
She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, and the words leave her when the light turns green. “You know, you don’t need to stay at a motel,” Kahlan says with forced casualness. “You could sleep at my place for the night.” She follows the words with a death grip on the wheel and a pointedly firm stare on the street before them.
There’s a definite pause, then a blustered excuse. “I couldn’t possibly. Kahlan. You’ve done enough for me. Like I said,” Cara says lamely. “Here is fine…was fine.” She indicates the motel’s parking lot with a trailing hand as Kahlan sets her jaw and drives right past it. “That would’ve been…fine,” she finishes. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“No.” Kahlan can’t help but feel somewhat pleased with herself, but she’s not sure why. “My family…great uncle Zedd is gone for the weekend on business, and I’ll stay out of your way. The couch is really comfortable,” she offers. “Really.”
She risks a glance at the blonde, and receives pursed lips and an expression that’s a curious mix of amusement and…wonder. Awe, even. Or maybe just surprise. Probably just surprise.
****
“This is a nice place, Kahlan.”
She glances at Cara as they pull into her garage, and the blonde seems sincere enough.
“Thanks,” she replies. “My parents left it to me, but I can’t take ownership until I’m 21. Uncle Zedd’s living here until then. Three more years,” she sighs.
They make it through the garage and into her foyer before Cara responds. “So your parents…”
“Died a few years ago. Five,” Kahlan corrects herself.
“Oh,” Cara says. “I’m sorry.” The words sound strange, thick and forced, as if Cara is speaking a foreign language. For some reason, Kahlan can’t help but find it cute.
“It’s alright,” she says.
Cara clears her throat as they come to a stop in her living room. “I lived with a foster family until last year,” the blonde announces. “No idea who my parents are, no desire to know.” She stares at Kahlan, as if expecting her to disagree somehow.
Kahlan just nods as if she understands. “Well,” she says, hoping to change the subject to things less heavy. “Hopefully this is better than a motel?”
She looks around her home, trying to see it through Cara’s eyes. The open floor plan makes it appear larger than it is; it’s a modest single floor house, but the wide spaces and skylights almost make it seem expansive. Kahlan frowns suddenly and hopes they won’t have a reason to go downstairs. Zedd has made a mess of the entire furnished basement, and she, having given up on it years ago, finds solace in keeping the rest of the house in order.
“I suppose,” Cara muses. “Though that motel was pretty classy. I don’t know.”
They exchange a glance, and Cara’s now-familiar smirk surfaces as Kahlan pretends to glare. “It’s very nice, Kahlan,” Cara assures her. “Very clean, very…white.”
“Thanks,” she says. Kahlan barely stops herself from bringing up the fact that white was her mother’s favorite color. “Strange traits of deceased parents” is probably a topic for a fifth or sixth date.
Date, Kahlan thinks. Why did I just…
“Do you want something to drink?” she bursts out. “I have…uhh, orange juice and water and some soda. And milk.”
Why the hell would she want milk?
Cara takes in her rapidly deteriorating state with calm amusement. “Water’s fine.”
“Okay. Please make yourself at home. The remote’s on the coffee table,” Kahlan says. She finds refuge around the corner and promptly leans her back to the wall. Why is she nervous? Shouldn’t Cara be the nervous one? The blonde is in her house, not the other way around. Then again, Cara doesn’t seem like the type to ever be nervous. About anything.
She fills two glasses with ice and water and hears the TV click on, followed by a certain very recognizable theme song and Cara’s voice sounding strangely…excited.
“Oh my God,” she cries. “I fucking love Xena!”
****
The hours pass in a blur. Kahlan assures Cara that it’s quite alright if she enjoys the marathon of her secret favorite show, and that no, she definitely has no idea whatsoever if the channel does this every Friday night. Cara, in turn, sprawls mesmerized beside her on the couch, and gradually their conversation changes from just filling up commercials to keeping Kahlan entirely distracted from the paper she’s trying to write on her laptop.
She finds out that Dahlia isn’t just Cara’s roommate; apparently the two bound back and forth between hating each other and “fucking like rabbits”—Cara’s words—on a weekly basis. It’s not hard to figure out which end of that spectrum they’re on now. On Kahlan’s quiet question of whether she is Cara’s girlfriend, Cara almost appears confused before shaking her head in answer.
Kahlan also finds out that while reports of her conquests are a bit exaggerated, she does sleep with some of her cheerleading team. “Only, like, four,” Cara muses. “Berdine, Raina—my God, those two are ridiculous—Hally, and…Dahlia. But you know her story.” Kahlan nods politely and tries not to imagine Cara naked and tangled together with four other really hot girls. It’s hard.
Cara seems to clam up when Kahlan tries to steer the conversation away from her sex life, but she does learn that Cara moved out of her foster home the day she turned eighteen and has been on her own ever since. Kahlan can’t help but feel a little jealous; graduation is still months away, and even when she starts college she’ll likely be living at home instead of on campus to save money. One advantage of living in such a college town.
In turn, Kahlan tells Cara what little of her life doesn’t and hasn’t involved dangerous subjects such as Richard and her parents. This turns out to be a purposefully dry description of her duties as student body president and hesitant complaints about her job working in the university library. Cara seems genuinely interested—or is really good at faking it—and Kahlan can’t help but marvel at the sheer impossibility of the situation. Cara Mason is in her home, right beside her on the couch, and they’re chatting like friends. Maybe they’re even becoming friends.
Cara finally takes notice that she’s swiping the touchpad on her laptop every few minutes to cancel the screensaver. “Should I let you work?”
“No,” Kahlan answers quickly. “I have all weekend to work on this.” She closes it pointedly and places it beside her on the couch.
Cara looks bemused. “Really, Kahlan, I’m hardly more important than your paper. I’ll shut up.”
Kahlan decides it might be strange to insist that she is, very much so, so she glances distractedly around the room. Her gaze lands on the clock on the far wall and she nearly jumps up. “Cara!” she hisses. “It’s almost nine. Why didn’t you say you were hungry or something?” She grabs Cara’s arm out of habit, but her palm doesn’t meet the coarse hair of Richard’s arm that she’s used to. It meets soft, smooth, and warm skin, and Kahlan forcefully blinks to hide her suddenly widened eyes.
Cara shrugs, seemingly oblivious. “It hadn’t crossed my mind. I suppose I could eat though. Want to order out? I’ll pay; it’s the least I can do.”
“Okay…I suppose I’ll allow it,” Kahlan says slyly.
“Damn right you will,” Cara says with a smirk. “There’s a really good Chinese place on Fifth Avenue, want me to call them?”
“I love that place,” Kahlan says, almost in awe. Maybe they’re not that different after all.
***
Their dinner is on the coffee table in the living room, and Kahlan is holding empty wine glasses in her hands with her back turned. Cara hasn’t seen them yet, and her heart is suddenly hammering in her chest.
Cara could take the presence of alcohol one of any number of horribly misconstrued ways. She might think Kahlan is trying to be romantic, that she’s trying to make this into a date. She might think Kahlan is trying to get her wasted. She might think Kahlan’s trying to compensate for her girl-scout life with a little underage drinking.
Truthfully, Kahlan isn’t sure herself. She just wants a little warmth in her veins; she’s curious about what would happen if she really let her guard down with Cara.
So she turns, lifting the glasses with a smile. “Merlot or Chardonnay?”
A thought chooses that exact moment to come to her—she has no idea if people drink wine with Chinese food. But before she can blush, Cara just raises her brow. “There’s a difference?”
****
Dinner is a casual and strangely quiet affair on the living room couch. Kahlan is glad of the chance to rest her vocal cords, and she realizes after the first bite that she’s actually starving. But halfway through her first small glass of wine, Kahlan finds herself doing something she hasn’t done—hasn’t had to do—in years.
She’s flirting.
With Cara.
Kahlan quickly remembers just how hard it is to flirt with subtlety when the object of her affection is sitting right next to her—things are much easier across a table. She tries her best; eye contact lasts a little too long and a shy apologetic smile follows. But Cara is not exactly slow on the uptake, and when she starts to play along, dinner quickly turns into far more. They’re halfway through their meal when Cara adjusts her bra strap, revealing far more of her tanned skin than necessary, and it’s suddenly a game; a competition where they’re both very much on the same team.
When Kahlan finally takes that key sip of wine and lets her foot brush against Cara’s leg without apology, Cara all but throws her plate onto the coffee table. “I’m done,” she blurts out. “Are you done?”
Kahlan does the same, just as quickly. “Yeah, I’m done.”
“Good.”
Cara doesn’t move a muscle or say another word, and from the way the blonde is looking at her, she spends a few seconds wondering if Cara is going to literally pounce her onto her back. But when Cara proves her restraint, Kahlan clears her throat and leans down to pick up the dishes, completely aware that Cara’s gaze hasn’t left her—or more accurately, her body.
The blonde stalks behind Kahlan as she carries their plates to the sink. When she turns back around, Cara is right there in front of her with their wine glasses. She offers Kahlan hers while swirling her own, and Kahlan accepts it. Cara tilts her head up, and Kahlan grips the countertop behind her as she watches Cara drain the last of her wine in one long swallow.
She looks at Kahlan, a slight smile curling her lips, and nods her head, barely. Kahlan follows suit with the rest of her wine, and she barely has time to swallow and place her glass behind her before Cara is stepping forward. There is no mistaking the intent behind this sudden closeness, but Kahlan has made her own intent very clear. When Cara’s head tilts and her lips touch Kahlan’s own, her hands quickly find their way to clutch the blonde’s sides and pull her closer.
Kahlan feels certain Cara can hear her heart thudding in her chest. Cara’s lips are warm and insistent, full of the heady taste of wine, and all Kahlan knows is that she wants more. She opens her mouth to Cara’s and Cara’s tongue is quick to take advantage. But after kissing turns long and deep and Cara’s hands turn decidedly exploratory, Kahlan makes a noise of protest and pulls her head back.
“What is it?” Cara asks. She looks at Kahlan wide-eyed; as if she holds Cara’s future hostage with her next words.
“You are not doing me in my kitchen,” Kahlan says. “Come on.”
Cara grins wolfishly and lets Kahlan guide her toward her bedroom far quicker than dignity would allow. It occurs to her that the words that just left her would normally be making her blush, but her cheeks are already warm and it’s definitely not from the wine.
They barely make it to the doorway before Kahlan’s hunger wins out. She pulls the blonde in for another kiss and they stumble into her room, almost tripping over each other until they collapse on her bed a tangled mess.
Kahlan is in awe. Cara’s mouth tastes impossibly good and her body is warm and pliant in all the right places. Her skin is soft, her hair actually smells really good, and Kahlan is suddenly glad she didn’t end up trying this in college at some party. Cara is incredibly feminine, but her athletic life has lent her strength in the form of taut and trained muscles and Kahlan revels in the feel of them flexing against her. Cara is kissing her, rubbing into Kahlan’s jeans between her thighs, seemingly as more of a confirmation of intent than anything else. The resulting rough spasms of pleasure are the only thing keeping her grounded, assuring her just how real this is.
When Kahlan comes abruptly, head pressing back into her pillow, she’s still wearing every stitch of clothing she put on that morning. She rides out her orgasm slowly, staring into Cara’s eyes, and as she matches Cara’s amused smile with a shy one, she begins to understand just what experience can do. Conversely, she becomes worried that there’s no way she can match Cara.
“I haven’t done this before,” Kahlan whispers.
“Less talking for now,” Cara says, sealing the words with a kiss.
Kahlan nods, tasting her own lips, and takes in sharp breath when she feels Cara’s hand unbutton her jeans and slip inside them.
****
Kahlan wakes in the morning to a bed that’s a complete and total mess. She doesn’t move much while she sleeps, so she sits up blinking, suddenly confused as to why her comforter is bunched into the corner and her sheets are in total disarray.
It’s almost as if somebody else had slept in this bed.
Yesterday comes flooding back in a split second, and Kahlan sits in total and utter shock before her head falls to her hands. She had sex. With a girl. That she barely knew. Kahlan can’t decide which revelation is the most disturbing.
She raises her head, listening for any hint of activity in her house, but hears only the soft ticking of the clock and the soft hum of the central air conditioner.
Kahlan falls back down against her pillow and tries to figure out how badly she just messed up her life. Somebody of Cara’s experience would be familiar with the rules of one-night stands, and Kahlan has seen enough movies to know how they work. Cara called a cab and left before she woke.
Her real concern, she decides, is if Cara tells any of her friends. Dread roils up in her belly. The entire school would hear about it within a day—Kahlan Amnell is an easy mark. She’s suddenly fighting back tears as realizations come hard and fast. Kahlan is just another notch in her belt; the latest in a long string of sexual conquests. She doesn’t mean anything to Cara.
Kahlan is so intent on not crying and trying to convince herself that her life isn’t over that it takes her a minute to realize she smells fresh coffee. It means one of two things. Either Cara made some before she left, or Zedd came home early from his trip.
“Zedd!” she calls out, keeping her eyes squeezed shut.
“It’s me. Cara,” comes a quiet voice from her doorway.
Kahlan sits bolt upright to see the blonde leaning against the frame with two steaming mugs.
“Oh my God, you’re crying,” Cara whispers.
“No,” Kahlan mumbles. “I’m just.” She wipes at her eyes with the heels of her palms and sighs. “I thought you left.”
Cara moves to the side of her bed and kneels beside her, offering her one of the mugs. Kahlan accepts it, giving her a small apologetic smile in thanks. She sits and stares at the dark liquid, not sure at all what to say. She’s barely familiar with the rules of these things, much less what to do when they aren’t followed.
But then Cara looks at her, and Kahlan realizes that last night might have been something else to Cara. She remembers that, while Cara might have blatantly hit on her, it was very much Kahlan who poured the wine, and very much Kahlan who set the tone for the rest of their night.
“You’re not my type,” Cara says at last. “At all.”
Kahlan steals a sip of coffee and nods once in acceptance.
“But my types haven’t worked out well for me,” Cara continues slowly. “And I think I’m curious about you. I really enjoyed yesterday. A lot. I had…fun. With you, Kahlan.”
Her words become jerky, halting, and as Kahlan looks at Cara, she realizes she’s glimpsing something rare. Cara always speaks carefully; her words are measured and chosen whether they appear to be or not. But not now. Right now Kahlan is hearing the unfiltered truth of Cara’s thoughts.
“And I think that’s why I stayed,” Cara finishes. “Because I didn’t want to leave. I hope that’s okay.”
Cara looks away and raises her mug to her lips, and Kahlan smiles. She almost looks nervous. “I enjoyed yesterday too,” Kahlan tells her quietly. “And I’m glad you stayed. I don’t want you to leave yet.”
****
Kahlan finally hears the hairdryer turn off from the bathroom in the hall. “You know,” she all but yells, “you’re not my type either.” She looks up expectantly from her laptop, and sure enough, Cara pops out into the hallway a couple seconds later. Kahlan blinks—the blonde is completely and shamelessly naked.
“Why’s that?” Cara asks.
Kahlan quickly realizes that whatever this is, it needs ground rules quickly. “Um.” She all but loses her train of thought as her eyes take in Cara’s bronze skin and wet hair, and Cara just stares at her expectantly. “You’re a girl,” Kahlan says, a slight smile growing on her face. “I don’t date girls, or sleep with them. Only boys.”
Cara smirks. “I don’t date at all,” she retorts, ducking back inside the bathroom.
“So when’s our first date?” Kahlan calls out. She bites her lip, suddenly terrified she’s misinterpreted everything up to that point.
“Tonight?”
Kahlan hopes the relief doesn’t show in her voice. “Tonight works.”
There’s a lengthy pause, then the hairdryer starts up and immediately turns back off. Kahlan looks up, waiting, and this time Cara saunters out to lean her shoulder against the wall with arms crossed under her breasts. “Do you put out on the first date?” she asks.
“Shut up, Cara,” Kahlan hisses. Cara bursts out laughing, and Kahlan realizes she’s never actually heard Cara laugh before, even in the midst of her friends at school. She smiles, wondering if this whole ordeal has Cara feeling as much out of her element as it does herself. “And put on a towel or something,” she adds. “You look really hot with your hair wet and I might not let you leave if you don’t cover up. You’ll have to fight your way out and then walk to the body shop to get your keys.”
Cara gives her a satisfied smirk and steps back out of sight, closing the door behind her this time.
Kahlan stares at her half-written paper on the laptop and finds it truly hard to believe she didn’t know Cara yesterday morning—it feels like she’s gotten farther with her in one day than she had with Richard in three years. Kahlan doesn’t know tonight will bring, much less farther in the future. All she knows is that Cara makes her heart beat faster, and she’s going to trust it for now.
****
This time, Kahlan doesn’t pull to a stop outside her door. She parks in the spot labeled 3B—Cara’s apartment number. It’s a warm spring evening, three minutes before six o’clock, and Kahlan has spent all of Saturday trying to act and think normally after dropping Cara off with her keys earlier that morning. The butterflies in her stomach, however, had other ideas.
She spends exactly three minutes checking her makeup in the rearview mirror and, after ensuring her lips have exactly the right amount of gloss, steps out of her car. When Kahlan reaches the unassuming white door, she rings the doorbell once and checks herself over one last time. She runs a hand through her hair, straightens her blouse over her shorts, and suddenly wishes she’d worn different shoes.
The door opens and Kahlan’s words of greeting die on her lips. Cara’s faded denim shorts and tight-fitting white shirt would look casual on any other girl, but not her.
Cara places her sunglasses on top of her head and flashes her a quick smile. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Kahlan says, quickly recovering. “You ready?”
Cara steps out, closing the door behind her, and when evening sunlight hits Cara’s blonde hair all Kahlan can think of is how soft it looks and how much she wants to run her fingers through it.
“Yeah,” Cara says. “Where are we going?”
“On a date,” Kahlan teases. It’s almost a reminder to herself; this wild and beautiful creature in front of her actually wants to spend time with her. Actually likes her.
Cara just smirks, tips her sunglasses down over her eyes, and heads for Kahlan’s car.
****
“I’m seeing someone,” Kahlan says, leaning her back against the refrigerator. She bounces right back off and stands to the side when Zedd waves her away. He’s just arrived back from the airport and is, of course, absolutely famished.
“Oh? What’s his name?” he asks, opening the door and peering dubiously into the fridge. He grabs a jar of olives and a fork and Kahlan can’t help but grimace.
“Her name is Cara,” she says. Aside from her heart skipping a beat, Kahlan feels strangely calm about revealing this newly discovered side of herself to her great uncle. He’s always been understanding, and thankfully now is no different. His eyebrows raise for a moment, but that’s the only indication that she didn’t just inform him grass was green.
“Her,” he repeats, making a grimace of his own as he struggles to get the lid off of the jar. “That last one…what’s his name?”
“Richard,” Kahlan says, brow furrowed. Zedd is incredibly sharp for his age; there’s no way he’s forgotten Richard’s name.
“Right. That Richard boy was that bad of an experience?” he asks drily. Kahlan almost laughs, and Zedd grins as the jar pops open. “What’s it been, a month?”
“Two,” she sighs. “And it seems like a lot longer.”
Zedd nods thoughtfully. “And this Cara, she’s a nice girl,” he ventures.
Kahlan lowers her eyes. “No,” she admits. “I mean, she’s nice to me, but she’s not what you think of when you hear ‘nice girl’.”
He arches his eyebrows at her and Kahlan quickly tries to explain. “Nice is boring, Uncle Zedd, and boring doesn’t last. Richard was nice. I don’t want nice. Not anymore.”
“Nice people are less likely to break hearts like yours,” Zedd sighs.
“What does that mean?” Kahlan asks defensively, backing against the kitchen counter. “I know what I’m doing.”
Zedd tries to smile at her. “I know you do, dear one. You’re a smart girl for your age, you always have been. That’s why I trust your judgment.” He pokes his fork around the jar and continues. “You’ve had to grow up fast, Kahlan, but you’ve done just that. Growing up is about finding out what—”
“Makes my heart beat faster,” Kahlan finishes quietly. “She does.”
Zedd’s smile turns genuine. “Well then, I suppose I’ll just have to tell you to be careful with this mean girl of yours. Now shouldn’t you be asleep? The weekend’s over, you’ve got school in the morning,” he reminds her.
“She’s not mean, Zedd,” Kahlan huffs. “But yeah, I just wanted to tell you.” Zedd mumbles something resembling thanks around a mouthful of olives, and Kahlan gives him a quick half-hug before heading to her room.
She hasn’t spoken to Cara at all that day. Kahlan didn’t want to crowd the blonde, so she relied on the memory of her words and their lengthy goodnight kiss on Cara’s doorstep the previous night. I’ll see you at school, okay?
Kahlan falls back on her bed and realizes she can’t wait.
****
She’s staring at the clock, which has read 11:25 for the past ten minutes, and almost doesn’t hear Ms. Cranson ask her the definition of a limit. Kahlan makes a show of consulting her completely blank page of notes and hesitantly informs her that she must have missed that part. After challenging her teacher’s distinctly disapproving look, Kahlan sinks back into her chair and sighs.
A tap on her shoulder follows shortly and she glances behind her to see Chase’s worried expression. “Hey,” he whispers. “You okay?”
Now was not the time to inform Richard’s best friend of the reason for her distraction. “Yeah,” she whispers back. “Just didn’t sleep well last night.”
It was the truth.
Thankfully, the bell rings five minutes later and Kahlan is freed from the cold prison of mathematics. Ms. Cranson always says low temperatures keep her students awake and sharp, but Kahlan is pretty certain she just enjoys watching them shiver. It’s not that she hates math—she can do it quite well—but it hardly comes naturally. Kahlan worked her way up to AP Calculus as a result of many long hours of study.
She grabs her backpack, slings it over her shoulders, and rushes out the door. It’s a short walk to the cafeteria from her third period class. They realized that Cara’s schedule doesn’t allow them to see each other between classes, so lunch is the first opportunity Kahlan has to see her since Saturday night.
When she emerges from the line with a tray full of the school’s excuse for food, she heads directly to Cara’s table across the loud and crowded lunchroom, pointedly avoiding Richard and Chase’s inevitable stares. Cara sees her coming and motions to an empty chair across from her with a half-smile. Kahlan takes a seat and is instantly subjected to the inquisitive stares of Cara’s friends instead.
But she expected as much, and easily keeps her calm. Cara quickly introduces her to Berdine, Hally, and Dahlia—the last of which is the only girl who doesn’t bother greeting Kahlan with at least a word or a nod. Kahlan immediately wonders just how much Cara has told her. Told all of them, actually.
Her dangerous thoughts are broken when a small raven-haired girl takes a seat next to Berdine and flashes her a mischievous smile. “Hey, miss president,” she chirps.
“And Raina,” Cara finishes drily. “Raina, this is Kahlan.”
After a nudge from the tall brunette next to her, Berdine, Raina rolls her dark brown eyes and sighs. “Hey, Kahlan.”
Kahlan manages to crack a smile. “Hey.”
“So you must be the reason,” Dahlia says loudly, “Cara won’t be playing with us anymore.”
Kahlan glances between Cara and Dahlia. Cara suddenly looks furious, but they both know she has to handle this herself. The rest of the girls just eat quietly, but most of them look bored. As if they’d known this was coming and wanted it over with.
“What does that mean?” Kahlan asks flatly. She has a pretty good idea, but can’t risk a misunderstanding; she hardly expected Cara to suddenly become faithful after one casual date.
Dahlia looks amused. “Cara has informed us that she won’t be fucking any of us anymore. Is that your fault?”
The blonde next to her, Hally, almost looks sorry for Kahlan, and while she can’t help but swallow at the brazenness of the statement and following question, she quickly recovers. “Kind of,” she says thoughtfully. “I mean, I hardly asked her to stop, if that’s what you’re asking. I think Cara can make her own decisions, right?”
Dahlia glares at her and stands to depart for another table, and the mood instantly lightens once she’s gone. Raina whispers something into Berdine’s ear, and even when Berdine furiously whispers back something sounding close to “Raina, don’t,” the small girl turns back to her with a twinkle in her eyes and a quirk in her lips.
“I don’t suppose you’d want to play with us?” she offers innocently.
Kahlan almost chokes on a slice of apple. “No,” she forces out. “I only play with Cara, thank you.” Cara’s lips curl, as if she’d known that exchange was coming and it went exactly the way she expected.
“Boring,” Raina sighs.
She’s saved from blustering through a defensive argument when Chase sits down heavily beside her with a wide grin. “Hey, ladies,” he bellows, slapping his palms on the table. “I’m Kahlan’s friend, Chase.”
Kahlan grimaces and risks a glance back to Richard. Thankfully he’s not looking at her, but his shoulders are noticeably slumped over his tray. She reaches a hand to Chase’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go back and make sure Richard doesn’t fall into his lunch? He’s looking a little more morose than usual.”
Chase’s brow furrows. “Morose?”
“Miserable,” Berdine offers. “Despondent, perturbed, enervated—”
“I got it the first time, thanks,” Chase mutters. He stands and leaves, and Kahlan gives Berdine an appreciative nod. She returns it, and Raina smiles.
“My Berdine is the nerdiest cheerleader ever,” she tells Kahlan proudly. Now it’s Berdine’s blue eyes that roll, but she smiles when Raina bumps her shoulder affectionately.
It was very much a trial by fire, but the rest of lunch passes in comfortable talk of normal things mostly not involving sex. Cara and Kahlan’s gazes rarely leave each other—until Raina chimes in with “If you’re going to keep eyefucking, at least sit next to each other.” Kahlan promptly pretends to find the list of ingredients on her milk carton utterly fascinating.
****
Her initial impression of Hally as shy is quickly broken when the blonde appears in the crowded hallway and pulls her aside from her locker that afternoon. Her eyes are insistent, and Kahlan is almost taken aback by their urgency. “Look,” she says quietly. “Cara told me you guys went out Saturday night.”
“Yeah,” Kahlan says, slightly confused. “It was a date, I guess.”
“Kahlan, Cara doesn’t date. Ever.”
“She told me that, but I thought. I mean, she’s had boyfriends and girlfriends before,” Kahlan ventures.
Hally shakes her head. “No she hasn’t. You don’t get it. She ‘goes out’ with people here at school, but she doesn’t see them outside it. You’re the first. Besides…” She wrinkles her nose a little. “Dahlia, I guess. But she hardly counts.”
The bell rings to signal the start of fifth period and the hallway quickly starts to empty. Kahlan just shifts her backpack on her shoulders and stares at Hally. She never thought she would be Cara’s first…anything.
“I’ve known Cara a long time,” Hally continues firmly, “and I’ve never seen her this vulnerable. She really likes you, Kahlan, and I swear, you’d better not hurt her. If this is just you experimenting, find somebody else and come back when you’re sure.”
With that, Hally turns on her heel and leaves Kahlan in a daze. The thought of her being able to hurt Cara has honestly not crossed Kahlan’s mind. But Hally is only a few steps away when she pauses, turns slowly, and walks back with a curious look on her face. “Did you try to hold her hand at all?” Hally asks.
“Yeah,” Kahlan answers, wide-eyed. “She wouldn’t let me. She said she might throw up a little.”
Hally gives a knowing grin. “Good.”
****
Later that week, Kahlan is watching a different clock for an entirely different reason. It reads ten o’clock—half an hour until she can go home for the night and sleep.
Kahlan’s job at the local university’s library is ridiculously easy, but also incredibly dull. She waits at the front desk, dealing with any questions and problems that the students and faculty have. If there are no questions or problems, she has nothing to do.
So she does the only thing that makes sense in a library. Kahlan reads—a lot. She’s just managed to get lost again in her book from her latest glance at the clock when a strangely familiar voice reaches her ears.
Kahlan looks up and sees Cara approaching, flanked on either side by Berdine and Raina. Cara is wearing her trademark smirk as Raina gestures furiously in the air. Last week, she would’ve either not cared or dreaded the sight, depending on her mood. Now though, she’s really and truly glad to see them.
“I am not shorter than Cara,” Raina is protesting loudly. “Kahlan! I’m taller, right?”
Berdine promptly reaches over Cara and smacks Raina’s shoulder, shushing her emphatically. “Library,” she hisses. Raina just purses her lips as they arrive at the desk.
“Cara was missing you terribly,” Berdine informs Kahlan solemnly. “It’s been a whole four hours since she saw you last, so we—”
“Berdine needs a book,” Cara interrupts her. “For a paper or something.”
“You look really cute with glasses,” Raina adds.
Kahlan had forgotten she was wearing reading glasses and immediately swipes them off. “Aw,” Raina says. “No, really!”
Cara catches Kahlan’s eye, nods her agreement, and mouths the word hot. Kahlan promptly blushes, pushing the glasses farther down the counter. “What book?” she asks Berdine.
Berdine motions her away, and they leave Cara and Raina behind to venture into the bookstacks together. “I don’t need a book,” Berdine admits. “Hally told me what she told you and she told me to tell you that she’s sorry, and that she shouldn’t have told you all that.”
Kahlan spends a couple seconds deciphering the tells and tolds. “Well, I’m glad she did,” she says. “I didn’t even think of Cara as…vulnerable that way before.”
“She’s not, really,” Berdine assures her. “She knows what she’s doing. Just like I think you do. Hally is just a really protective friend.”
“She’s right though. Before Cara I never…” She stops and tries a different tactic. “You and Raina are together, right?”
“What gave us away?” Berdine asks with a smile.
“What didn’t,” Kahlan corrects her lightly. The brunette’s smile widens. “Berdine,” she says hesitantly. “How did you know? For sure.”
“Well. Raina’s been chasing girls since she was born, but I didn’t find out until I met her,” Berdine says quietly. She spends a moment in thought. “You had a boyfriend for a while, right?”
“Yeah, Richard. But.”
“Do you feel any less, any differently, about Cara than you did when you met Richard?”
“It was three years ago,” Kahlan sighs. “But…no. I feel more, if anything. Cara is.” Here she sighs again, and Berdine waits with a knowing look, as if she knows exactly what Kahlan’s going to say. “She makes me feel alive. She’s amazing,” Kahlan says softly.
“Yeah,” Berdine says. “She is. Especially around you.”
****
Alive is pretty good word to describe it, Kahlan decides. She can’t think of any better one. They’re on their way home from another date—this one to celebrate the return of Cara’s car. Truthfully, Kahlan just wanted to see if she could get Cara to dress up for her; when the blonde showed up at Kahlan’s door in slacks and a button-down blouse, Kahlan couldn’t stop smiling. Cara claimed she didn’t like being told she was beautiful, but Kahlan told her anyway.
She has her arm trailing out the window of the car, letting the warm wind raise and lower her hand, and she uses the other to adjust the black skirt that Cara said she loved. It “complimented her legs,” the blonde solemnly informed her. Kahlan tears her gaze from the sunset before them to glance at Cara as the blonde drives just inside the speed limit.
“You know,” Kahlan says suddenly, “just because I’m going pre-law doesn’t exactly mean I can arrest you for speeding.”
Cara gives her a weak smile. “Yeah.”
She took Kahlan to one of the nicest places in town, and after enduring Cara’s smirking jests about how it was a pity they couldn’t have wine—“Merlot or Chardonnay,” to be exact—they talked about the future. Kahlan revealed her plans to get a bachelor’s degree from the local university before going to law school, while Cara admitted she had no idea what she wanted to do. Kahlan promised to help her figure it out.
She loosens her seatbelt a little and clears her throat before speaking. “Thank you, Cara.”
“For what?”
“Tonight,” she says. “You dressed up and took me out. I know it wasn’t something you really wanted to do, so now I get to do something for you.” Cara sends her a questioning glance, and Kahlan leans over, as if she’s about to share a secret.
Kahlan has no real aversion to swear words, it’s just that she can usually think of something better. But right now, there’s one four letter word that means exactly what she wants it to. “You can fuck me,” Kahlan whispers. “Extra hard tonight, if you want.”
The engine revs for a split second, sudden and loud, and Cara lets loose a pointed sigh as she slows their suddenly speeding vehicle. “Goddammit Kahlan, do you have any idea what you just did to my pulse? Promise me you’ll never do that in public, I might have a fucking heart attack.”
Kahlan falls back into her seat, laughing, and notices with amusement that Cara is now going comfortably over the speed limit.
****
“Because you have a good reputation,” Cara tells her. Again.
They’re almost the last ones in the lunchroom; the bell rang five minutes ago. Kahlan is standing there quietly, hands on the straps of her backpack, listening to Cara explain why she’s trying to keep their relationship out of the school’s collective knowledge.
“It’s only a few months until graduation,” Kahlan reminds her. “My reputation won’t matter after that, and it hardly matters now.”
“I don’t want people to think badly of you,” Cara says firmly. “And they will, if they think you’re with me. I’m not exactly student-body-president’s-girlfriend material. I have a history.”
Kahlan huffs. “Why would I care what they think? I only care what you think. You don’t—” She stops suddenly as Cara’s words catch up to her. She’d said girlfriend. Kahlan blinks, only recovering when Cara’s brow raises in question. “You don’t think badly of me, right?” she finishes lamely.
“No, but—”
“Good.” Kahlan’s tone leaves no room for discussion, and she turns on her heel to leave a doubtlessly frustrated—and possibly confused—Cara behind her.
She can’t help but think back to Cara’s words during their first date as she walks down the halls. How she doesn’t normally believe in relationships. How the word girlfriend scares her, fiancé scares her even more, and how she’d rather be flayed to death than ever be called anyone’s wife. How she said there’s no such thing as love.
****
Kahlan leans over the low fence between the bleachers and football field, watching intently as Berdine and another girl toss Raina several feet in the air and Hally does the same with Cara. They tuck and roll in midair, and it’s a perfect catch when they come down.
It was strange—during lunch earlier, Raina informed the two of them that they’d been “going out” for two weeks now. Cara looked as surprised as Kahlan felt, and when Kahlan whispered “Feels like longer?” into Cara’s ear, the blonde just nodded and lowered her eyes.
When Cara mentioned a few minutes later that they’d be practicing outside that afternoon, Kahlan knew she had to watch. She hasn’t gotten to see Cara in her red and white uniform since…before. Out of the dozen girls on the field, the ones she knew hardly looked surprised when she showed up at the bleachers. Cara the least of all. She looked pleased, actually.
The sun is beating down on the busy field—the football team has one end, the soccer team has the other, and Kahlan quickly noted with amusement that both are equally distracted by the group of cheerleaders in front of the bleachers in the middle. Distance runners are making rounds on the track encircling the field and, at this point, look far too exhausted to turn their heads.
The girls hold their finished stance for a couple seconds before Cara calls out, “Okay, we’re done.” They stand, finally relaxing, then start heading through the gate and up the bleachers. “We’re back in the gym tomorrow,” Cara adds loudly.
“Bye, miss president,” Raina says with a grin. Berdine just smiles at her as they pass by.
Kahlan rummages in her backpack for the water bottle she brought and works her way out through the gate and onto the track. Cara meets her halfway, tired and a little sweaty, and takes the water bottle with an appreciative nod.
“I hope you’re happy,” Kahlan says as she watches Cara drain nearly half the bottle. "I now have a thing for cheerleaders in uniform.” She makes a show of inspecting Cara head to toe, pausing to appreciate her bare midriff and the toned thigh her short skirt is showing.
Cara just grins at her. “I can work with that.”
“I was kidding,” Kahlan says quickly. “I think.”
“I wasn’t.”
Kahlan makes a mental note of the offer and changes the subject. “Don’t you say good job or anything? At the end of practice. You’re the squad leader.”
Cara shrugs. “I would’ve said good job if they’d done one. They have to earn it, and they know it.”
Kahlan gives this thought as Cara pulls another swig. They’re the best squad in the county for a reason—Cara’s leadership is probably no small part.
“Kahlan, why are you so good to me?” Cara asks suddenly.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re good to me,” she repeats. “You do things for me. You helped me with my paper, you bring me water, you drove me everywhere before I got my car back. I don’t know how to do those things for you. How I can be…as good to you as you are to me.”
“Hey, you helped me with calculus, remember?” Kahlan teases. Cara was ridiculously good at math—probably her best-kept secret. “But really, Cara, I don’t do those things because I want something back from you. I do them because I like you, and because I care about you.”
“You care about me?”
Kahlan steps forward into her space. “Yes,” she says. “I do.”
Cara just stares at her and Kahlan returns her gaze, searching the green eyes she finds herself getting lost in all too often. “Oh,” Cara whispers.
She looks as if she’s about to say something else, but Kahlan doesn’t give her a chance. She reaches forward, grabs the blonde’s bare sides, and pulls her into a deep and sudden kiss. Cara all but melts into Kahlan’s hands and against her lips.
Kahlan hears a water bottle drop to the track below them, rolling away noisily, and then she feels Cara’s hands slip behind her neck and around her shoulder. Cara uses one kiss after another to tell Kahlan everything she was going to say using words, and Kahlan understands her just fine.
When Kahlan finally pulls her head back after one final nibble on Cara’s lower lip, the world seems to switch back on. A whistle blows down on one end of the field and Cara’s eyes flutter back open. The whistle blows again, then again, and Cara and Kahlan both turn at the suddenly insistent sound. The football coach is furiously trying to get his team’s attention, which is proving to be difficult. Half of them are staring at the two girls, and a glance confirms the soccer team is equally distracted.
“Cara,” Kahlan whispers. “I think they saw us making out.” She still has her hands around Cara’s middle, and she runs fingers over her back as a slow smile grows on Cara’s face.
“You planned that,” the blonde accuses her. Still, the spell isn’t entirely broken; she’s running her fingers through Kahlan’s hair and isn’t exactly stepping away.
“I did no such thing,” Kahlan says with a smirk. “It was an accident. You’re just irresistible when you’re talking about feelings.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Oops.”
“Oops,” Cara repeats drily. Kahlan just smiles and kisses her cheek.
****
Kahlan pulls into the parking lot of Cara’s apartment complex one afternoon later that week, parking well away from her door when she sees it wide open and a car backed up to it with trunk popped. Dahlia appears in the doorway a moment later, tosses a moving box into the car, slams the trunk closed, and drives off with tires screeching the pavement.
Cara’s text didn’t say anything beyond asking her to come over. She almost winces when the door that Dahlia left open suddenly slams shut, but quickly gets out of her car and walks quickly to ring the doorbell.
It reopens almost immediately. Cara looks completely fine, but her voice is ragged. “Hey,” she says. “Come in.”
Kahlan hasn’t seen the inside of her apartment before, and Cara hasn’t had to tell her why. The reason just left, so she steps inside, Cara closes the door behind them, and Kahlan gives her a quick hug. “Are you okay?”
Cara gives her a tired smile. “Yeah. I just didn’t know breaking up with a friend could be so exhausting.”
Her apartment is small—cozy is a better word, Kahlan decides—and full of furnishings one might expect from a teenager’s first place on their own. The shades over her windows are pulled down and closed, keeping out the afternoon sun and leaving the room to artificial light.
“I like it,” Kahlan offers. “Very…red.”
It was definitely the predominant color—the couch in the living room and the rug across the center were both a similar shade of deep red. Cara just chuckles and gestures at the couch. “Thanks. Have a seat but don’t get used to it. Denna’s coming later with a truck to pick it up.”
Kahlan sits tentatively. “So Dahlia…”
“Is with Denna now. They are an item,” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Can I get you something? I have water, beer, and soda. No orange juice or milk,” she adds, cracking a half-smile.
“Water’s fine,” Kahlan says. “What happened?”
Cara comes back with a beer and glass of water and collapses beside her. Kahlan accepts the glass and relaxes back as Cara cracks open her can. “Remember how I said Dahlia and I were just friends with benefits?” Cara begins. “Apparently she was under the impression that we were more, and had been for…I don’t know. Months now. Denna was her way of trying to make me jealous or something. We’ll see how long that little fling lasts,” she snorts. “Then you came along, and after our little stunt in the field she pretty much lost it.”
Kahlan tries to inch her way deeper into the sofa. “Oh.”
Their “stunt” changed a little more than Kahlan thought it would, but as Raina bluntly put it, “the two hottest girls in the school getting together” was apparently newsworthy to anyone and everyone. Some people looked at her with more respect, some people with a lot less. Thankfully, the majority didn’t seem to care overmuch.
Cara glances at her and presses her head against the back of the couch. “My God, I’m so sorry. Listen, this is not your fault, I swear. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”
“But if I hadn’t. Cara, your life is changing because of me. You’re changing. You lost a friend, you’re changing your other relationships. I don’t want that,” Kahlan says quietly. “Do you want time? To think things over? Maybe we should take—”
“Absolutely not,” Cara says firmly. “I don’t want that at all. I like you, Kahlan, a lot, and I hardly need time apart from you to remind me of that. As for everyone else…I don’t want anyone but you.”
Kahlan relaxes a little. It’s the first time she’s heard Cara actually tell her that, and she takes comfort in how sure of herself Cara sounds. “Cara,” she begins hesitantly, “you never told me. Why did you give up everyone else after one night with me? I didn’t expect that from you.”
Cara sighs. “It’s trouble. Open relationships, casual sex, it’s all fuel for drama. I fucking hate drama. What happened with Dahlia just proves all that. Even Raina and Berdine are giving this ‘monogamy thing’ a try,” she says drily. “Anyway, I knew it had to stop eventually, and well, maybe you’re just that good.” Cara arches an eyebrow, and Kahlan blushes.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says. “I can barely…make you come. And you know it.”
“Mm. You’re better than you give yourself credit for,” Cara assures her. “But even if you weren’t? I’d still be all yours.”
Kahlan is suddenly taken by an strange and irresistible urge to kiss the blonde, so she shifts over the couch, swings herself over Cara’s lap to straddle her, and does just that. She loves the way Cara’s eyes flash back at her, and she loves the low tone in Cara’s voice when she informs Kahlan that they have a whole two hours until Dahlia comes to pick up her couch.
****
“You said you wanted to talk, Richard. So talk.”
They’re standing by Chase’s car in the senior parking lot the next afternoon, and Kahlan is finding her patience tried after only two minutes. Cara is at her side, sunglasses in place and arms crossed, and Chase is in the driver’s seat with Richard leaning against the rear door.
“Alone though,” Richard insists. “Not with her here. You owe me that.”
Kahlan instantly turns livid. “I don’t owe you anything, Richard Cypher,” she snaps. “I gave you three years of my life. If anything, you owe me the simple courtesy of leaving me alone.”
“Look, it’s just…you can’t be serious,” he says. His voice is almost a whine, and it tightens every muscle in Kahlan’s body. “It’s all over the school, what you did, but I told everyone that you wouldn’t do that. That’s not the Kahlan I know.”
“You can’t believe it, Richard?” she asks coldly. “Do you need to see it with your own eyes?”
The raise in Cara’s brow says she’s game, and Chase leans his head out the window and looks at them hopefully.
“No,” Richard says quickly. “No, I just…she’s not good for you.” He says the words quietly, almost as if Cara can’t hear him. The curl in the blonde’s lips reveals no small amount of amusement.
Kahlan is not amused whatsoever. “Not good for me? You think you know me better than I know myself? Is that it?” She steps forward and somehow it’s hard for her to keep her hands at her sides. “Let me tell you something. I feel more like myself when I’m with Cara than I ever did with you. You had your chance, Richard. You had three years of one chance after another, and you blew them all. Get over it.”
The last words almost come out in a snarl; Chase promptly disappears back inside his car and Richard looks properly cowed. Kahlan feels Cara’s hand on her shoulder; when she doesn’t move, Cara’s fingers trail down her arm before taking her hand.
“Come on,” the blonde says quietly. Kahlan lets herself be led away, toward her own car, and they’re halfway there before either of them say anything. “You want me to kick his ass for you?” Cara offers.
Kahlan slows suddenly, but not because of Cara’s words—she’s just realized that Cara is still holding her hand. She glances at Cara pointedly as she feels a curious smile wipe away all her anger.
“Oh. Yeah, don’t even,” Cara says, squeezing her hand. “And don’t get used to it, either.”
****
Kahlan wakes suddenly to an inhuman shriek followed by a furiously whispered scolding. “You’ll wake her up!”
She raises her head from its comfortable position on Cara’s shoulder and sees Berdine and Raina furiously grinning and trying not to laugh on the other side of Cara. They’re all bunched together on the small couch; Raina is all but sitting in Berdine’s lap as usual, and Kahlan can’t possibly be any closer to Cara—she tried. “Sorry,” Berdine says ruefully. “You know me and horror movies.”
It’s movie night at Cara’s place—though now it’s Berdine and Raina’s place as well. She gave the pair her permission to be Cara’s new roommates on receiving their solemn oaths to “keep our hands off your girl, Kahlan.” She’s glad Cara didn’t try to offer the spot to her; it would have been too soon. Even so, it seems like Kahlan has spent more time here than at home over the past two months. She even has her own drawer and a small section of Cara’s closet.
She stretches and looks around the dark living room, yawning and barely paying attention to whatever movie is scaring the hell out of Berdine this time. Cara reaches her arm around Kahlan’s shoulders and presses a short kiss to her temple. “Do you want to go to bed?” she asks quietly.
“No,” Kahlan whispers back. She pulls her legs up on the couch, curls back up against the familiar warmth and softness of Cara, and returns her head to its place on Cara’s shoulder. “I’m good right here.”
She falls back asleep to some kind of ominous music and Cara’s fingers running through her hair, realizing just how true those words really were.
****
After an impossibly long ceremony and the requisite tossing of their caps in the air, Kahlan’s class is successfully graduated. It’s a warm summer night; the sun has just set and the senior parking lot is a crowded mess of intoxicated celebration. Kahlan quickly finds refuge at the quieter edge of the lot where Cara had parked them earlier. She zips off her heavy graduation gown, sighing as breeze hits her t-shirt and shorts. She throws it inside Cara’s car and takes a seat on the trunk, content to relax and watch the revelry from afar. Berdine, Raina, and Hally pass by, and she assures them that yes, they know where Hally’s place is and that no, they won’t be too late.
The car’s blonde owner comes up a few minutes later, gown bunched in one hand and diploma and cap in the other. Kahlan can’t help but smile, even if she’s not sure why. “Hey,” she says. “Hally said—”
“Yeah, I just talked to them,” Cara says, tossing her own things inside her car. She quirks an eyebrow at Kahlan. “You want to stop by the apartment and be fashionably late?”
“It’s like you can read my mind,” Kahlan teases. Cara smirks and takes a seat beside Kahlan on the trunk. They watch together as a late model mustang nearly backs into a light pole and, three cars away, a flash of skin through a window reveals a couple too impatient to drive home before celebrating in their own way.
“We made it,” Cara observes. “High school is over.” She sounds almost indifferent, but Kahlan knows her well enough to detect that hint of wistfulness in her voice.
“Yeah, but now the hard part starts,” Kahlan sighs. “College. Real life.”
“You’ll be fine,” Cara says dismissively. “College will be easy for you. You can do anything.”
Kahlan glances at her with head tilted. “What in the world makes you say that?”
Cara clears her throat and, after furtively glancing around to ensure their privacy, reaches for Kahlan’s hand. “Because,” she says firmly, “if my girlfriend can change my mind about believing in love, she can do anything at all.”
Chills ripple down Kahlan’s back. She hasn’t heard the word love from Cara’s lips; not like this. Not since their first date, months ago.
Cara is searching her eyes, waiting for her to say something, and Kahlan reveals one of her own best kept secrets. “I didn’t believe in it either,” she says quietly. “Do you remember when you told me you didn’t believe in love? I didn’t argue or try to change your mind, and that’s why.” She laces her fingers in Cara’s and turns to address the open air before them. “But now…it looks like there is such a thing, after all.”
“Yeah. There is,” Cara says decisively.
Kahlan just smiles at her. They don’t say the three words themselves; that can come later. Right now Kahlan leans over and gives her a substitute: two kisses on her lips and one on her cheek. From the way Cara smiles back at her and lowers her eyes, she understands Kahlan just fine.