Work Text:
Sterling starts going on drives after she finds out.
There’s something about being in a car, music up, windows down, no one but her, that makes her feel free, unconstrained by anything to do with people related to her.
Thankfully, their therapist told Anderson and Debbie that Sterling needs to be allowed some freedom after everything, so they reluctantly let her take the car, mostly whenever she wants. Sterling is pretty sure it’s partially motivated by guilt which, well, at least Sterling gets something good out of it.
“Isn’t being in a car so much kind of, like, triggering?” Blair asks one day when Sterling, once again, grabs the keys to the Volt after school.
Sterling wants to respond, seeing our - your - mom’s face every day is triggering, but she doesn’t. Besides the fact that it sounds like a middle school bully’s joke, she knows how much it would hurt Blair.
She already knows she’s hurting Blair’s feelings by insisting on going on these drives alone. But she can’t explain it, she just needs it to be only her.
Sometimes she just drives a few miles, goes to a gas station and picks a new type of junk food she hasn’t tried before, before eating it in the car, turning around, and heading home.
Other times it’s longer. Once she drives to Alabama just to know that she’s crossed a state line. That she’s somewhere different, even by an arbitrary barrier.
One Saturday, she takes the Volt and drives four hours to the Atlantic Ocean, just to see it, to put her toes in the water and think about how big the world is; how the sunlight will always reflect on the water no matter what has happened with her family.
Then there are the days when her control falters.
It’s at least once a week that she takes the route she still intrinsically knows from sitting in the backseat at ten years old, excitement flooding through her at the idea of going to April’s house.
Now, she’s flooded with a different kind of excitement, an anticipatory combination of fear and longing that April will come outside, that she’ll walk over to Sterling’s car, open the door, and press Sterling against the driver’s seat with the full force of her body and Sterling will forget every bad thing that’s ever happened to her.
That doesn’t happen, of course. Instead Sterling parks across the street, a little diagonally so as not to be too obvious. Most evenings there are three cars in the driveway, and Sterling wonders if inside, April is having to make nice with her parents, if she’s afraid of them, if it feels sometimes like she’s going to explode having to go through the days like everything’s normal.
She remembers where April’s bedroom is from years of sleepovers, nights of them feeling rebellious for staying up past midnight, giggling under the covers like there was no one else in the world.
Sterling knows it’s bordering on, like, fully being a stalker, but some nights she sees the light flick on in April’s room and wonders if April’s up there thinking of her. Some nights she sees the light flick off and she really really wonders if April is thinking of her. If April lays in the dark of her room and pictures Sterling in her bed with her, if she pictures the same thing Sterling does almost every night.
She sits in her car and she thinks and she wonders and she wishes and she hopes and she wants.
And then she drives home.
This goes on for months.
Sterling knows it’s not the most healthy way to cope with any of it, but it’s the only thing that even seems to partially work.
On the last Friday before summer break, Blair goes to get ice cream with the girls from the cross country team and Sterling politely declines her courtesy “Blair’s sister” invite. Instead, she watches from the driver's seat of the Volt as April gets into her own car.
Sterling feels a dread in her gut, months looming ahead of her where Sterling won’t see April every day at school. Even if they haven’t so much has uttered a word to each other in months now, and the last words uttered were dark and harsh, the thought of a long summer stretching in front of her without seeing April makes Sterling put her car in gear mere seconds after April peels out of the parking lot, muscle memory taking her straight April’s house.
There’s only one car parked in the driveway this time, April’s. Sterling gets the unreasonable urge to go up and knock on the door, but she knows that that could only lead to disaster. Instead, she parks across the street, like she always does, and watches the house. Like a fucking weirdo.
She looks down at her phone. It would be so easy. Just to send a quick text, or to even hit the call button. Her finger hesitates, her heartbeat speeding up at just the thought of hearing April’s voice on the other line. Sterling’s finger inches closer to the button, waiting for her instincts to kick in and hold her back.
She jumps about a mile in the air when there’s a sharp rapping on her window, and her phone tumbles out of her hand. She turns to the window and sees April, still clad in her uniform, one eyebrow raised.
Sterling, unsure if this is real or a fantasy, offers a feeble wave.
April rolls her eyes, then lifts a hand, gesturing for Sterling to roll down the window. Right.
Sterling takes a deep breath before rolling down the window.
“Hey,” she says lamely.
“Why are you at my house?” April responds.
So, no small talk.
“Oh,” Sterling says, looking around, “um, is this your house?”
April looks like she’s fighting back a smile, before her expression hardens.
“Come to see if there are any more members of my family you can put behind bars?”
Sterling swallows. “Um, no.”
“Too bad.”
“Sorry.”
“Is this a botched attempt at kidnapping?”
Sterling lets out a strangled laugh. If only April knew. Something about her reaction must startle April, because something softens a little in her expression.
“Are you okay, Sterling?”
And, God, there is something about the way this girl says her name, so full of concern and care that Sterling was afraid would be gone forever at this point. Maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s how her body doesn't get the message that she should not want this person; or maybe it’s that these few words have been the most they’ve spoken in so long now, but Sterling finds herself asking,
“Do you want to go for a drive?”
April raises her eyebrows.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“It’s not,” Sterling says honestly. “It’s probably a terrible idea. So, do you want to go for a drive?”
“I…” April looks at Sterling, like she’s trying to figure her out. Then she casts her eyes back to her house. “Okay.”
Sterling can’t help grinning.
“Okay,” she repeats.
They drive for a few miles, past houses that get bigger and bigger and further apart, broken up by golf courses and churches and chain restaurants with fancier branding than they normally have.
They don’t talk. Sterling’s fingers grip the steering wheel, wet with sweat, as her heart beats rapidly against her chest, thinking of all the different ways this could go, which range from April pushing Sterling’s body to the backseat of the car to April physically punching her in the face.
“Why do you drive by my house all the time?” April finally asks.
Sterling feels herself going a little red.
“So you noticed that?”
“Sterling. Don’t let anyone ever accuse you of being subtle.”
Sterling laughs a little.
“Fair. I’m sorry, I-” She stares straight ahead at the road. “I’m so sorry about so many things, April. Honestly, kind of stalking you is way down on the list. I would probably start with lying to about everything with your dad, and then number two would be asking you to-”
“Sterling.”
April’s voice is firm, in kind of a scary way, but mostly in a hot way.
“Yeah?”
“I didn’t come in this car for you to apologize to me. I really, truly, do not want to hear it.”
Sterling takes a shaky breath.
“So why did you come in this car?”
“You should pull over.”
Sterling isn’t sure she’s ever pulled over faster in her entire life and she knows she’s not the best driver. She turns sharply into the parking lot of what used to be a strip mall and, according to a sign, will be luxury condos by 2023.
She turns off the car, faces April.
“So why did you get in the car?” she repeats, whole body needing to know the answer.
April purses her lips. Her eyes sweep Sterling, as if she’s looking for something. Sterling feels her gaze hot on her skin.
“Well,” April says slowly, “if my instincts are correct, and I believe they are, it’s for the same reason you drive by my house every day.”
A slow smile is forming on her face, and it’s so beautiful that Sterling is convinced this isn’t real. This can’t be real. April can’t be sitting in the front seat of Sterling’s car saying things that heavily imply what Sterling has been fantasizing about for so long now.
“Why is that?” Sterling asks, aware there’s a tremor in her voice, a need.
April leans forward a bit. She unbuckles her seatbelt. Sterling thinks she might have a heart attack.
“Because,” April whispers, “even though there is a laundry list of reasons we can’t be together, I find myself…”
Her eyes flick down to Sterling’s lips, and Sterling is now at least seventy-five percent sure this is a sexual fever dream, but she sure has hell better not wake up.
“...wanting you,” April finishes.
“Oh my god,” Sterling says out loud.
“So I take it the feeling is mutual.”
Sterling almost laughs.
“Are you kidding me? It’s - I’ve been - it’s been-”
April’s eyes glint up at her.
“Yes?”
“I am not exaggerating when I say that the only thing in my life that I know with absolute clarity is that I want you, April.”
April lets out a little gasp. Sterling wants to make her make that noise again and again. And it’s looking like she actually can.
“Look,” Sterling says, “I know that things didn’t work out earlier because-”
April moves a finger to Sterling’s mouth to shut her up. It’s extremely effective.
“If we’re going to do this, you’re gonna need to stop being so… earnest.”
“Sure,” Sterling says easily.
April raises her eyebrows.
“Sure?”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“Are you sure? Because last time, I recall you couldn’t make it a week without needing to-"
“Hey,” this time it’s Sterling’s turn to put a hand to April’s lips. “I thought your whole thing was not wanting to talk about it.”
April grins.
“Fair point.”
“So let’s not talk about it.”
That summer, Sterling still goes on drives. Just not alone.
They develop a system. Barely a system really, just April texting her when her parents aren’t home and Sterling immediately abandoning whatever she’s doing to come get her. It kind of makes Sterling feel like a spy, weirdly more so than when she was actually going after criminals.
“Do you mind it?” April asks, the third time they sneak away, parked in the parking lot of what used to be a Forever 21, April’s knees framing Sterling’s hips.
“Do I mind what?” Sterling asks, pretty sure that her answer will be, no I absolutely don’t mind, just please don’t stop.
“That it’s always - that I always have to be in control. Of when we meet.”
“Um,” Sterling says, looking up to meet April’s gaze, which is a lot softer than it should be, considering their circumstances, “if you couldn’t tell, I’m super into it when you’re in control. In, like, several ways. So, uh, don’t worry about it.”
April grins at her, before using one hand to push Sterling’s chest down onto the backseat.
“I may have figured as much.”
Then her body is warm and solid on Sterling’s, and her mouth is hot and insistent on Sterling’s neck and Sterling is pretty sure she would let April be in charge of anything she ever wanted.
“You have a hickey,” Blair says when Sterling comes home that day.
“Oh,” Sterling says lamely, hand going up to touch her neck.
Blair just stares at her for a second, mouth a thin hard line.
“You’re really not going to tell me where you go on your drives? Who you go with?”
Her voice is barely even angry, just mostly hurt, a crack in it. It makes Sterling’s own throat close up.
“Blair,” she starts, unsure how to finish, unsure why she can’t just tell her.
“Look,” Blair says, “I get that you’re angry. And that everything is weird now. And it sucks. If you want to be mad at mom and dad forever, then fucking go for it. But I didn’t lie to you for sixteen years, I didn’t know any of this shit, so why the hell are you cutting me out?”
Sterling looks down at her hands.
“I don’t - I don’t know,” she manages, “I just feel - it’s all so different now.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Blair says, “huge observation, Sterl. Give me the fucking keys.”
“What?”
“It’s my turn to go for an angry drive and leave you alone and abandoned.”
Then she swipes the keys and is gone.
“I think I’m a bad person,” Sterling says a few days later, fingers tight on the steering wheel, as she drives April out of the city.
April looks over at her.
“What are you talking about?”
Sterling stares straight ahead, blinking rapidly.
“Maybe it’s genetic, you know? Like, maybe you can try and try to be a good person, but there’s something in your blood that makes you be terrible and mean to the people who love you most and maybe at some point you just stop fighting it and give in to the fact that you are an awful, awful person.”
Sterling sniffs a little, embarrassed that she’s crying of all things, in front of April, of all people.
“Sterling,” April says gently, too gently, hand reaching over to tentatively rest on Sterling's shoulder. “Pull over.”
Sterling huffs out a teary laugh.
“You’re telling me that this is attractive to you?”
“I’m telling you that having an intense emotional reaction to something while driving is a danger to yourself and others. Pull over.”
So Sterling does. She doesn’t look at April even when she’s stopped the car, just tries to make her breathing steady.
“You’re not a bad person,” April says.
“You don’t know that,” Sterling says, tears threatening again, “you don’t know… so much about me.”
“I’ve known you for most of my life, Sterling. And, frustratingly, you are one of the best people I know.”
Sterling feels her tears wet on her face.
“That’s not - you still don’t-”
“Besides,” April continues, “the idea of morality being genetic is completely ridiculous. I mean, if that was the case, I would be completely screwed.”
“Oh shit, I didn’t even -”
“Don’t worry about it.” April takes a deep breath. “Listen, I know we’re - I know I made it very clear that what we’re doing is just physical, but if something is going on with you - I just want you to know that you can talk to me. You don’t have to, of course, but the offer is there.”
At this, Sterling actually turns to her. April’s face is set, conviction mixing with compassion, and something about it makes Sterling start crying even more. Great.
April slowly reaches a hand up and wipes away Sterling’s tears with her thumb. Her hand says on the curve of Sterling’s cheek, warm and tangible. Sterling sucks in a breath, closes her eyes for a second, allowing herself to forget everything except the solid feeling of April’s hand on her face.
“Thank you,” she whispers after a few seconds, “I - you - thank you, April. I don’t know if I want to talk about it yet, but it means - it means a lot.”
“Okay,” April says easily, “whatever you want.”
Sterling swallows.
“What I kind of want right now is maybe for you to make me forget all of this shit. Just for a few minutes.”
April grins at her.
“That can be arranged. Come here.”
So Sterling does, wiping off the rest of her tears before clumsily moving to sit on April’s lap. She’s taken to wearing skirts and dresses this summer mainly for moments like this, so April’s hands can come to rest on her bare thighs, sending shockwaves through her entire body.
“This okay?” April asks and Sterling nods, a little too eager. It’s kind of weird, she’s used to their positions being reversed, but it’s hot in a totally different way, to look down at April, who is staring up at her more genuinely than maybe she should.
Sterling leans down to kiss her and sighs into April’s mouth the moment April’s lips open under hers. This, she can do. This is easy, and natural, the way April’s hands hold Sterling close to her, the way her tongue presses into the roof of her mouth, the little sounds escaping her.
They just kiss for a long time, their breath filling up the car, something building in Sterling when April bites down on her lip, when April’s hand creeps further up her thigh. Just when she thinks she’s about to pass out from sheer wanting, April’s fingers find their way under her underwear.
“Is this-” April starts.
“Please,” Sterling gasps.
And then April’s fingers are inside of her, fucking her slow and deep, and Sterling’s breath catches at just how good it feels, a low moan escaping her.
“You’re doing so good,” April whispers, “you’re so so good.”
Sterling clutches the back of April’s neck, unable to say anything, unable to think anything, just to close her eyes and surrender to the sensation of April touching her.
“You’re so good,” April repeats, over and over again, as her fingers curl inside of her and it’s too much, it’s all too much.
Sterling comes embarrassingly quickly, with sort of a muffled sob against April’s hair.
“Just like that, Sterling,” April whispers to her, through it all, “you’re so good.”
And then Sterling is crying, fully sobbing into April’s neck, and it’s humiliating and overwhelming and freeing all at once. April holds her through it, one hand in Sterling’s hair, the other rubbing circles on her lower back until Sterling’s breathing steadies out.
“I’m sorry,” Sterling murmurs once she can speak again, “God, I’m so sorry. This is probably the least sexy thing that has ever happened, like, ever.”
April chuckles.
“We both know that’s a tad hyperbolic.”
“I know, but this was supposed to be like, just physical, and then I starting weeping on you after, which is just so embarrassing and-”
“Sterl.” April nudges Sterling’s chin so they are face to face. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s been a hard year. If I can provide some… catharsis, I’m more than happy too.”
Sterling, despite herself, laughs a little bit.
“Catharsis? Is that what we’re calling it now?”
April giggles too, and then they’re both laughing, still pressed together in this car, and something that Sterling didn’t even know was pressing on her so hard feels just a little lighter.
“I’m hooking up with April again,” Sterling tells Blair when she gets home.
Blair looks up from the episode of SVU she’s watching on her bed.
“I kind of figured. Should I thank you for telling me, like, weeks later?”
Sterling fidgets with her hands.
“Can I sit down?”
Blair gives her a look.
“You don’t have to ask to sit down on my bed, Sterl. Christ.”
“Right.”
Sterling sits, looks down at Blair’s comforter. the one that she’s slept under more times than she can count.
“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you,” she says hoarsely. “Or, I kind of do. I don’t know. It’s different from the first time. The first time, I really wanted to, but there were so many factors, the gay thing and the timing, but I hated having a secret. This time though - this time I think I really liked having a secret. After having so many secrets kept from me. This one was just mine.
“And I know that you didn’t keep the secret from me. I know, like, intellectually that it’s super unfair and shitty of me to group you with mom and dad, but I just - you’re their kid, Blair. On every level. You don’t have this whole fucking mess hanging over your head, following you wherever you go, and I do. Sometimes I have to go miles and miles away just to feel like I can breathe again. And sometimes-”
“You have to fuck April Stevens about it?”
Sterling lets out a shocked laugh.
“Honestly, yeah.”
Sterling looks up at Blair, who is looking down at the blanket, fiddling with a loose thread.
“I guess it’s just hard,” she finally says, “that I’ll never fully understand it.”
“Fucking April Stevens? Yeah, I hope not.”
Blair snorts. “Okay, definitely not that. But I mean, the stuff with mom and dad. It just drives me crazy that you’re going through something I won’t ever really get, but then - then you don’t even talk to me about it and- ” Blair’s voice cracks. “- and it feels like you’ve just given up on me.”
“Blair,” Sterling feels her own voice crack, feels her stomach bottom out, “I could never. You’re my person. You’re always gonna be my person, even if I don’t know how to talk about it all yet.”
Blair finally looks up at her, eyes wet.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
And then Sterling’s leaning forward to hug her and Blair is squeezing her so tight that Sterling starts crying again. They just stay like that for a while, holding each other on Blair’s bed.
“I’m sorry,” Sterling whispers, “I’ll try - I’m gonna try to actually tell you stuff.”
“Good,” Blair says, “because, bitch, it sucks being left out of the loop.”
“Consider yourself looped.”
Blair nods seriously before leaning back on the bed, a familiar tease in her eye that Sterling hasn’t seen in months.
“So, anyway, how’s the sex?”
“Oh, it’s great. I cried afterwards today, but honestly, still great.”
Blair looks at her, eyes narrowed.
“Is the crying, like, a gay thing or a emotional trauma thing?”
Sterling giggles a little. “Honestly, maybe both.”
June 16, 2021, 2:30pm
AS: My parents are going out for dinner tonight. Come get me at 7:10.
SW: Roger that.
June 27, 2021 9:13am
AS: After church, go home with you parents, then come by.
SW: Yes ma’am.
SW: Also after church… that’s weirdly hot.
AS: Calm down.
June, 27, 2021, 10:32am
SW: Nice dress. You look good.
AS: Save it for the car, Wesley.
SW: 😳💕🚗
AS: Jesus.
SW: Great point, we ARE in church.
July 2, 2021, 8:20pm
AS: My parents are forcing us to go to Myrtle Beach this weekend for the fourth. Kill me.
SW: Hey, maybe it will be fun. The last time we went there, Blair and I rode that spinny thing at the boardwalk until we threw up. So that was a good time.
AS: That’s your idea of a good time?
SW: Well, we can’t all be as sophisticated as you.
AS: Either way, it’s still my parents. Honestly, I’d prefer roller coaster vomit.
SW: I’m sorry.
AS: What are you doing on Monday?
SW: Um, making you forget about your terrible weekend with your parents?
AS: Quick learner.
SW: Well, not to brag, but I do have the second highest grades in my class.
July 6, 2021, 9:45am
SW: Okay, I just need you to know that I woke up this morning and my legs were insanely sore. Like I had just run a marathon or something.
AS: Oh. Sorry about that.
SW: No, god, don’t be sorry. It was more than worth it.
AS: Good. In that case, you’re very welcome.
SW: You’re just so proud of yourself aren’t you?
AS: Is there something wrong with pride in a job well done?
July 18, 2021, 12:05pm
SW: Hey, you weren’t in church today, is everything okay?
AS: Stunning powers of observation.
AS: I’m fine.
AS: I don’t want to talk about it.
SW: Okay, sorry.
SW: You can talk to me if anything is going on with your family, just so you know.
AS: I just said I don’t want to.
AS: We’re not dating, remember?
July 18, 2021, 11:13pm
AS: I’m sorry.
July 19, 2021, 10:01am
SW: It’s fine. You’re right, we’re not dating. I shouldn't have asked.
AS: And I shouldn’t have been a total bitch about it.
AS: I just don’t know how to talk about anything with my family without opening this giant chasm of hurt and anger.
AS: And I don’t want to feel all that around you. Not again.
AS: To be honest, being with you this summer has been this bright spot in my life that otherwise feels like it’s falling apart. And I feel like if I bring up any of the bad stuff, the dark stuff, this only good thing will crumble too. And I can’t do that.
AS: Maybe I’ve already ruined it. I don’t know.
AS: I am sorry though.
SW: April.
SW: You haven’t ruined anything.
AS: Are you sure?
SW: Positive.
AS: In that case, 3pm today?
SW: Damn, you bounce back fast.
SW: But, yeah, duh, I’m there.
July 27, 2021, 11:22am
AS: My parents are going to a couples retreat this weekend. (Don’t ask, it’s disgusting.) But anyway, that means I have it free.
AS: I know I’m being paranoid, but if you came over, I would still be freaked out that they would somehow come home early and walk in.
AS: But do you want to maybe go somewhere on Saturday? Somewhere far away.
SW: I have an idea. Bring a swimsuit.
"Sterling, there’s only so many Taylor Swift albums in a row one can listen to.”
Sterling turns to April, aghast.
“You love her too, don’t pretend you don’t.”
“I’m not pretending I don’t, I’m just saying that there can be a little variety in your music choices for this four hour drive.”
“I would argue that nine albums over the course of 15 years is the definition of variety-”
“I’m choosing the music from now on.”
“Fine. Bossy.”
Sterling can’t even pretend to be mad for too long. The summer air is coming in through the windows as she speeds down the highway, already hours away from their home. The further they drive, the easier it gets; Sterling can see her own relaxation reflected in April’s face, in her posture.
April puts on new music, something Sterling doesn’t recognize, starting with intense strings, until the singing starts, a familiar voice.
“Wait,” Sterling says, starting to laugh, “is that Rachel from Glee?”
“This isn’t Glee,” April says with disdain, “this is Spring Awakening. You’re not familiar?”
“You sound like you don’t want me to be familiar, so you can, like, condescendingly explain it to me.”
April laughs.
“Perhaps.”
“So,” Sterling says with a grin, “go on.”
“If you insist. So it’s about a bunch of teenagers in Germany in the 1800s, but the music and dialogue is fully modern.”
April goes on to explain the plot as the album plays, which is, like, fully bonkers. Sterling has to stop herself from looking too much over to April in the passenger’s seat during it, how excited she gets, her passion shining through.
The songs are really good too, a couple that make Sterling blush a little.
“This musical is, like, really horny,” she says, a few songs in, “I mean, is this song, um, about masturbation?”
“It is,” April says with a knowing grin. “Good catch.”
“Well, when you’ve got a lot of personal experience in something…”
April laughs at that, catching Sterling’s eye, and Sterling finds herself laughing too.
The show gets pretty dark after that, April casually explaining the plot of how people start fully dying because of all these societal pressures and how their parents hold their kids to these awful standards.
Sterling suddenly gets it, why April loves this musical so much, and it makes her want to cry a little.
“This is my favorite,” April says, toward the end, as a guitar riff comes on and that other guy from Glee starts belting the f-word. “I would listen to it all the time last year when I was so furious at my dad. And a little bit at you. But mostly at him. But this song, it’s so simple, but so effective. Totally fucked, will they mess you up, well you know they’re gonna try,” she sings along. “I think what it’s saying - what this whole show is saying - is that adolescence is a ticking time bomb. And if we survive it - if we survive the hell our parents put us through - that is nothing short of a miracle. It’s bleak, I know. But it’s a reminder I guess, that what I’m going through isn’t just me.”
It’s the most that April has talked about her family the whole summer, and Sterling realizes she’s been holding her breath. She lets it out slowly, trying to figure out what to say.
What she goes for, shockingly, is, “my parents aren’t really my parents.”
April turns to her sharply, surprise written on her features.
“What do you mean?”
And then it’s all spilling out of her, the whole story, how scared she was in that car, how mad she was when the truth came out, how she hasn’t been able to look her parents in the eyes for months now, how she sometimes still wakes up and hopes it was all a terrible dream.
It gets them all the way to their destination, a hidden beach a few miles south of Savannah.
“I found this place back in December,” Sterling says as she parks, “which is a little silly, that’s, like, the worst time to go to the beach. But it felt good to be so far away, not be surrounded by other people, to just sit and be a small person in a big world.”
“I…” April starts. “Wow. Thank you. For telling me. For bringing me here.”
“Yeah. It’s - I just - driving here helped me a lot, dealing with everything. And maybe it could help you too.”
“Sterling…”
April leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to Sterling’s mouth. It’s different then the dozens of other kisses they’ve shared in this car this summer, so desperate and eager and demanding. This one is gentle and sweet, a gesture within itself. Sterling closes her eyes, presses her hand to April’s hair, and lets herself melt into it.
The beach is obviously more crowded in July than it was in December, but it’s still not that busy, all things considered. They find a spot that’s almost secluded, where they can see the whole ocean spreading out in front of them.
“Let’s go,” Sterling says, as soon as they put their stuff down, grabbing April’s hand and pulling her toward the water.
“We should put on sunscreen first. Then wait at least fifteen for the sunscreen to set in, and then-”
She’s cut off by Sterling tugging on her arm and running toward the ocean.
“If I get melanoma, I’ll billing you for it!” April shouts, but she’s laughing.
The water is salty and, at first, harshly cold, but Sterling runs into it until she can dunk her head under, can feel the sting of it on her face. When she comes up for air, she sees April staring at her, waist deep in the water.
“What?”
“I just don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as… enthusiastic as you.”
Sterling grins, raises her eyebrows.
“It took you until now to figure that out?”
April laughs.
“Well, not exactly.”
Sterling stands, so she’s eye level with April. She puts her hand on the smooth exposed curve of April’s waist.
“Because I’m pretty sure I’ve been pretty enthusiastic with you all summer.”
She looks down at April’s mouth, leans in a little. Then she hesitates.
“Sorry, I know we’re in public.”
April lets out a breath that Sterling can feel on her face.
“No one here knows who we are,” she whispers, and then she’s kissing Sterling, mouth salty from the ocean air and perfect against Sterling’s.
They stay at the beach for hours, generously reapplying the SPF 100 April brought, going from lying in the sun, to splashing in the water, to seeing what they can acquire from the snack stand, then back to their towels to start the cycle all over again.
It starts to get darker in the late afternoon, thick clouds forming alarmingly quickly over the water.
“Did you check the weather?” April asks, a teasing in her voice telling Sterling that she already knows the answer.
“It’s July! I didn’t feel the need. Did you check the weather?”
“I didn’t know where we were going!”
“Okay, good point. Do you actually think it’s going to-”
And then it starts, heavy droplets falling onto the ocean, the sand, and then directly onto them. Within seconds, it’s falling harder.
“Car,” April yells, and they’re gathering their things and running toward the parking lot.
It seems like all the other patrons of the beach either checked the weather or saw the signs sooner, because the Volt is the only car in the lot by the time they get there, rain pounding on the windshield.
Sterling opens the back door mostly to put their wet towels down, but then she feels April’s hand, firm on her back, and Sterling gasps with realization, crawling quickly into the back seat, as April follows her, shutting the door behind her.
They are both breathing heavily from running from the beach, and the rain is loud and harsh on the car, and it feels for a minute like no one else in the world exists except them.
There are droplets of water in April’s eyelashes, dripping down her chin, gathering between her breasts. Sterling swallows harshly, before forcing herself to look up into April’s eyes.
Sterling isn’t sure who starts it, but then they’re kissing, with no pretenses, mouths open and desperate, tasting the rain on each other’s lips. April pushes Sterling gently so she’s lying on her back, April settling between her legs as she’s done so many times before, but it feels different this time, more intentional. It hits Sterling suddenly that they’re both almost naked already, only wet strips of fabric separating their bodies.
April’s hands are already reaching for the top half of Sterling’s swimsuit, pushing it up over her shoulders. It’s not the smoothest; when Sterling tries to lift her arms, she bangs her knuckles against the car window; and April’s act of taking it off turns more into rolling it off, given how sticky everything is. But then it’s gone and April's mouth is on Sterling’s breast, the warmth of it contrasting with the cold air around them, the soft press of her tongue to Sterling’s nipple causing her to let out an embarrassingly loud moan.
April pulls her head up just to grin at Sterling, so fucking self-satisfied, it drives Sterling crazy. In the best way. She reaches up to take off the top of April’s swimsuit, which is just as awkward, April almost hitting her head on the roof of the car in her eagerness to get it off.
Sterling laughs a little, and April does too, before shrugging.
“Well, we’re already here.”
Then she’s reaching for the bottoms of Sterling’s swimsuit, which is even more clumsy, it seems like there is no room for Sterling to move her legs.
“Why are your legs freakishly long?” April asks.
“Hey, you like my legs!”
“That I do,” April says, running her hand down the whole length of Sterling’s leg, until Sterling forgets what they were trying to do.
Then she remembers, as April finally removes the offending garment, holding it up like a trophy. Sterling laughs, but then quickly reaches for April’s hips, to take off the last piece of clothing between them. It’s a little easier, because April’s shorter, but she still almost loses her balance a couple times.
The thing is, it should kill the mood or something, both of them severely struggling to be naked, but it doesn’t at all. When April’s laugh rings out in the car, Sterling feels it warm in her stomach. Each accidental press of April’s hands to Sterling’s body in an attempt to disrobe affects her just as deeply as the intentional ones. Sterling can feel her heart beating faster as each second passes.
Then, finally, neither of them are wearing clothes. Sterling realizes suddenly that this is the first time that has actually happened, their car hook ups at least being partially clothed. But, now here April is, fully naked, and all Sterling can do is stare as April positions herself again.
And, Jesus, it’s one thing to see that April is naked but it’s fully another thing to feel all of April on top of her, skin sticky from rain and salt water and sun, but still so soft, so warm, against Sterling’s own. April’s thighs are on either side of Sterling’s left leg and when April slowly lowers her hips down, Sterling can feel April hot and wet on her thigh and it makes her let out a strangled gasp.
April looks down at her then, and Sterling knows she’s feeling the exact same thing, and the thought makes her warm all over, makes her press her own hips up to meet April’s, to let her know how much she is wanted.
April lets out her own gasp at that, and then she’s leaning down and kissing Sterling, uncoordinated and desperate, and Sterling matches the desperation, hands clutching the smooth expanse of April’s back.
They find a kind of rhythm, moving together like that, harsh breaths filling the car, painting the windows with condensation. Sterling feels herself shaking at the sensation, both feeling like she’s going to float into the rainy sky, but also grounded by April’s body on hers, April’s hand grasping her hip, her breasts pressing into Sterling’s own, at the way her thigh moves in between Sterling legs, like it knows exactly what Sterling needs.
It hits Sterling then, that April has been giving her exactly what she needs for the past two months; a release that's not just physical, but all-encompassing.
It’s too big a thought for the position they’re in, for April looking down at her, eyes hungry and urgent, but also so caring.
“Sterling,” April breathes, uttering the name with such want and tenderness that Sterling is a goner.
She comes with April’s name on her lips, with April surrounding her in every way possible, with the knowledge deep in her bones that she is utterly and completely in love with this girl.
The drive back home feels short, even though it’s the same distance. They hold hands over the console, neither of them bringing attention to it, but neither letting go, except when April goes to change the music or Sterling has to turn signal.
Sterling sees April tense more each time the miles tick down to Atlanta, her shoulders setting when they reach city limits.
Sterling knows the route to April's house almost better than her own at this point, but her body wants to turn around, to not let April go back to the place that makes her so miserable. She knows April’s parents aren’t home, but she parks a few houses down out of habit.
“So,” April says, once Sterling put the car in park, “I guess I’ll text you.”
“Yeah,” Sterling says, swallowing. April goes to open her door, but Sterling stops her with a hand on the shoulder. “Wait.”
April turns back to her, a resigned look on her face.
“I have to go back home at some point, Sterl.”
“But not right now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you said your parents are gone all weekend. Come over.”
“Like, to your house?”
“Yeah. Just come over. We don’t have to - we don’t have to do anything. But just come over, stay the night, like when we were kids, we can turn on a flashlight under the blanket and read books our parents wouldn’t let us. We can - “
Sterling’s aware her voice is trembling now, but she suddenly needs to get this all out of her, even if it means April won’t - she just needs to get it all out of her.
“I know this is, like, the definition of earnest, and I know what we agreed at the beginning of summer, but I want to be there for you in any way I can. If you’ll let me. I want you to be able to have somewhere to sleep if you can’t stand being in your house; I want you to have someone to talk to, even if it’s not me; I want - hell, April, if you asked me to, I would run away with you right now. Wherever you want to go.”
April just stares at her, mouth slightly open, eyes almost looking like she might cry.
“Sterling,” April says softly, “I think I’ve been running away with you all summer, in a way.”
“So,” Sterling asks, voice raw, “do you want to keep running away with me?”
“That’s a big question.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I don’t want to put all these crazy expectations on you again. Whatever your answer is, I’ll be fine with it. I promise. I just - I just need you to know.”
April smiles at her, moves her hand to slowly brush the back of Sterling’s hand, and Sterling feels hope rise in her chest.
“This would mean actually defining what we are to each other, actually figuring out what comes next besides a text with a time and place. It would mean actually talking about what we feel instead of just, you know, fucking about it.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sterling says, joy feeling like it’s going to burst out of her, “let’s not get too hasty, I think we can compromise on that last one.”
April laughs, and it’s the best sound in the world.
“We can negotiate.”
“Always so romantic.”
April grins at her, before taking a deep breath.
“So, your house?”
Sterling beams, a weight lifting.
“My house.”
So, Sterling, like she’s done hundreds of times over the last several months, drives. But this time, it’s driving home that makes her feel free.