Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"You're my pride and joy."

Jen wakes with a start, tears on her cheeks. It's been over two years, but she still has the dream, over and over again, of her final moments with her mother. It makes her chest ache every time, hearing those words. The same words written in every birthday card Jen threw away carelessly, and now wishes she had kept. The same words that were said to Jen countless other times, with effusive praise after a dance recital, or with a hug and encouragement when Jen needed comfort. 

She only dreams of the last time. She thinks it's what she deserves, the pain; it taunts her, knowing how little she really did to earn her mother's pride when she was alive, how angry Jen had always been at her for being sick. She definitely wouldn't be proud of who Jen has become since she died.

The phone rings, and it takes Jen a moment to realize it's what woke her up. She rubs her eyes and reaches out blindly to grab the phone, pick it up, and slam it back down. They deserve it, whoever is calling at the ungodly hour of- she rolls over to look at her alarm clock-  11:17 a.m. Jen groans. "Fuck," she mutters. The phone rings again, and she shoots up in bed immediately, snatches it from the receiver. "What?!" she barks. 

"Well good morning, sunshine," Christopher's overly cheerful voice greets her, "did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?"

"Every day," Jen grumbles, but a smile is fighting its way onto her face. "God, it's early there. What are you doing up?"

"I went for a morning run on the beach, and I'm about to go to work. You know, just being a productive member of society."

"Wow," Jen exhales, plopping back down onto her pillow. "What's that like?"

"Not bad. You should try it sometime."

"I'll think about it." She twirls the phone cord around her finger, imagines him doing the same, all the way across the country. "How's work going?"

"It's good. Definitely not bad as far as summer jobs go. The kids are really cute, and they think I'm an incredible dancer. You know how I love having my ego stroked."

"Ew, gross. We're talking about your students. So inappropriate."

"Ooookay, I made a perfectly innocent comment, you're the one who made it inappropriate. As always," Chris retorts, but he laughs, and Jen finds herself laughing, too. He always makes her feel better, even if he's giving her shit. He knows her better than anyone, accepts her exactly as she is. 

"So, what's up? Did you just want to be my wake-up call this morning?"

"As sexy as your morning voice is-"

"Ha!"

"-I was thinking about you, wanted to say hi. To be honest, I thought you'd be up, I guess I underestimated the extent of your laziness."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Okay, I will, but first I wanted to bug you about visiting. Again."

Jen sighs. The thought of getting out of bed is daunting; the thought of flying to California to visit her best friend seems impossible. 

"You promised you would freshman year. Now we're about to be seniors and you still haven't. If you don't come this summer it'll be the longest we've ever gone without seeing each other!"

"First of all, speak for yourself. Credits-wise I'm barely a junior. Secondly, you're the one who decided not to come home this summer." 

"Lots of people change their major and take longer than four years to graduate college, Jen. With all you've been through, you should be proud of yourself for sticking with it," Jen's stomach churns at that word- proud- and she opens her mouth to protest, but he keeps talking, "and it's been good for me to be here this summer. As you know, my parents didn't exactly appreciate my Christmas coming out surprise. "

Jen grimaces, "Yeah, I'm sorry. I know how rough it was," she pauses, tries to keep it in, but is unsuccessful; a laugh escapes her. "Still can't believe they didn't see that one coming!" 

"You and me both, sister."

Jen's tone softens, "How's it going with them, by the way? You been talking much?"

Chris sighs, "It's getting better. They say they've been praying about it-"

Jen interrupts him with a loud scoff, "Psh, OKAY-"

"No, it's good, Jen. Praying helped me accept it myself. They're trying."

Jen bites her tongue. She doesn't understand it, but his faith has always been important to him. "Well, then... good."

"Yeah. Anyway, let's shine the spotlight back on you here. Next month. Come visit."

"I... I don't think I can, I have to..." she stops. There's nothing she can think to bullshit him with. Although she should be taking summer classes, or have a job, she isn't, and she doesn't, and he knows that. 

"Have to what? Keep your bed company? It'll be just fine without you. And so will your dad, so don't give me that excuse. I talked to him, and he wants you to come. He'll even pay for it, to get you out of the house."

Jen sits up again, "You talked to my DAD?!?"

"Mmm hmmm. You know Chuck and I are tight-"

"Don't say tight."

Chris ignores her, "-and he's worried about you."

Jen closes her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose with her free hand. "Yeah, I know. He tells me all the damn time."

"Okay, then what is it? Ted?"

"Fuck no. He doesn't control me," she pauses, "We broke up, anyway."

"Jen! Again? What happened?"

"I don't know..." Her voice trails off. She's not sure how to explain it to him, doesn't really care to. Her heart simply hadn't been in it... hadn't been in anything since her mom died. It was barely even in that relationship before, anyway. She just kept going back to it because it's what was expected of her, and she felt like she should, because he was a great guy and he loved her. She didn't have the energy to put up that facade anymore. 

"Well this better be the last time. Unless there's some sort of punch card you're trying to fill or something," he laughs. "What are you going to get if you make it to ten break-ups? Free smoothie? Sub sandwich?"

"Shut the fuck up! Again! And stop laughing. You're not that funny."

"I am, though."

Jen sighs, has accepted the inevitable. "Fine."

"Fine, you admit that I'm funny?"

"Oh no, definitely not that. Fine, I'll come visit."

*

After Christopher is done high-pitched squealing, they pick the dates for her trip- a long weekend at the end of June. Then Jen talks to her dad, and he helps get her flights booked. It seems to make him happy, that she's going, and he brushes off her gruff "thank you"s and "you shouldn't have"s.

He gives her a hug, "I absolutely should. You're still my baby girl. I want you to have fun and enjoy your life. Your mother would want that, too."

Jen's throat closes up. "I know." She's been told that a hundred times. By her father, by Christopher, by her (very short-lived) therapist. She does know. For some reason, though, she just can't. 

The next few weeks pass, and Jen tries to get excited for the trip; she is excited to see Christopher, and the beach. She's never been to the west coast, and she knows it'll be much different than the beaches in New York. 

It's been nagging at her, why she hasn't wanted to go, and she finally lets herself acknowledge it. As happy as she is for him, it will be hard seeing Christopher thriving in a different place- a place where, at one time, she thought she'd be going, too; that was the plan before her mom took a turn for the worse. He's out there, really living his life and being so fully himself. He always has been- even when he struggled to come to terms with his sexuality, he still knew who he was- and she's envied him for it. Before, her identity was dance and choreography, was (unfortunately) her mom's sickness, was her on-again, off-again relationship with Ted. There wasn't time to give thought to much outside of those things. Now, with all of them gone... she's realized she has no idea who she is, or what she wants out of life. 

Her therapist had told her to just keep putting one foot in front of the other, and she'd eventually figure it out; Jen had responded "isn't that what I'm paying you for?"

That was their last session. 

Still, she's trying. Well, she wants to. Most days. When she couldn't bring herself to dance anymore, all the joy in it gone, she'd changed her major to undecided, but stayed in school, at least. She wants to be someone her mother would be proud of, wants to feel pride in herself. How, though? When she doesn't even feel comfortable in her own skin?

"One foot in front of the other," she mutters to herself, swallowing down her desire to turn around as she boards the plane to Los Angeles. 

*

It's an almost 6 hour flight, and though Jen has flown before, she's never been on a flight this long. She's happy to have an aisle seat with easy access to the bathroom, since the Friday morning flight is sure to be full; as much as she'd love to look out the window, she definitely doesn't want to crawl over two laps whenever she has to pee.

A businessman who looks to be about her dad's age sitting in the window seat gives her a polite smile as she sits down, but thankfully doesn't say anything. Jen barely wants to talk to people she likes, making small-talk with strangers is absolute torture. She thinks she's really lucked out when the middle seat stays empty as people file in, but of course a skater boy wannabe ambles up right before the flight attendants start their spiel. He grins at her. "Seat taken?" She just blinks at him, and after a few seconds his grin falls a bit. "Okay, yeah, it is taken. Lucky me." Jen rolls her eyes and barely moves her legs to give him easier access to scoot by. She was hoping her way-too-early morning, no makeup, "don't fucking talk to me" face would do the trick, but apparently not. She pulls out her Discman and slides her headphones on. Before she hits play on the most recent Radiohead CD, he leans close to her, head motioning towards the Discman. "What are you listening to? Shania Twain?" 

Jen slowly turns to look at him, sees the way he almost recoils at the intensity of her incredulous glare. She can only hope her dual-meaning response of "Nope!" finally gets him to take the hint. Then she presses play, closes her eyes, and plops her head back onto the seat. Surprisingly, she makes it through takeoff and most of the album before falling into a deep sleep, "this time, I feel my luck could change" echoing in her ears as she drifts off. 

The bumpy landing is what wakes her up, and she opens her eyes with a jolt. She really has to pee after finally disembarking the plane, and after she finds a restroom, she follows the arrows to baggage claim where Christopher is waiting for her. He's tan and wearing shorts, a tank top and flip flops- looking like the prototypical California boy. He's holding up a white sign with "JEN" written on it in big block letters, and is playing like he's looking around for a stranger. She walks right up to him and he finally breaks, smiling and squealing in delight as he wraps his arms around her. She keeps her arms straight down, awkwardly accepting his hug; even with him, physical affection doesn't come easy. He pulls back, "Hi!"

"Hi," she plucks the sign from him and studies it with a raised eyebrow, "I'm surprised you don't have a hat like Jim Carrey in 'Dumb and Dumber'. Where's the limo?"

Chris scrunches his face in disgust, "Do you think I've seen that movie? Have you forgotten that I have taste?" Jen laughs, and he continues, "And is Sunny not good enough for you?"

Jen rolls her eyes at the mention of his car, a moderately- beat up red Pontiac Sunbird he's always been proud of. "I'm surprised that thing made it all the way across the country, let alone through three years of driving around L.A."

"Excuse me, "that thing"? I think you mean she."

Jen rolls her eyes again, but shakes her head at him with a grin, and is already glad that she came. She instantly feels more like herself, whoever that is these days, around her oldest friend.

They chat as they wait for Jen's suitcase, and when she spots it, she waves off Chris' offer to grab it for her. "Still don't like accepting help, huh?" He teases.

She shrugs. "Not when I don't need it."

He looks at her pointedly, "And what about when you do?"

She takes a deep breath, "I'm getting better. I'm here, aren't I?"

He nods, knows her well enough to know that's all the acknowledgment of her struggling he's going to get. By the way his face brightens, Jen can tell it's enough. "I'm so glad."

"Me too."

They make their way to the parking garage and find Sunny. Jen catches Chris' eye as she runs her hand along the hood, "Hello, old friend."

A huge smile breaks out on his face, "I knew you loved her!"

She throws her suitcase in the back and climbs in. "Yeah, actually. I came to see her, not you."

He revs the engine, "Well let us both show you around."

Jen is starving, so they stop to eat, and then Chris takes her to look around UCLA. She takes in the scenery as they're on the way, it's so pretty, but the traffic is atrocious. 

"How do you stand the traffic?" She asks as they inch along the 405.

"I actually don't have to deal with it too much. I have a bike I ride from my apartment to campus. And when I do, I just listen to music! Speaking of..." He presses play to start a cassette, and when the opening notes of "Man! I Feel Like a Woman" ring out, Jen laughs. 

"Of course!"

"Yes, of course. Have you heard this album? It's perfection."

"Uh huh, sure." Jen shakes her head at him, but when Chris belts "Let's go, girls!" She can't help but sing along. 

Jen tries to keep her jealousy in check as they explore the campus, and thinks she does a pretty good job of acting interested and not like she wants to puke. He makes sure to show her the dance building and all his favorite landmarks, including the dorms of all the guys he's hooked up with ("TMI!" She tells him), and when they're done, they head to his apartment a couple of blocks away. They make the climb to the third floor, "I notice you didn't offer to carry my suitcase up the stairs for me," she huffs as Chris unlocks the door.

He shrugs, "I knew you didn't need the help."

It's a tiny, 4 bedroom apartment, with a small kitchen and living area. They just hang out there the rest of the evening. Jen meets his roommates, Sam, Peter, and Wesley- all students in the dance department at UCLA with Chris. 

"This is a lot of estrogen under one roof," Jen jokes as they sit around, drinking and chatting. Christopher gives her shoulder a shove from beside her on the couch, but the others laugh. 

"I'm actually straight," Sam says from the kitchen. He holds up a Bud light. "See?"

"Sam's testosterone definitely balances us out," Wesley chimes in. "But then Rebecca is around so much, the scales get tipped way back in the other direction."

"Sam's girlfriend, she lives down on the first floor," Peter leans over to tell Jen, clearly thinking she's interested in gossiping, "And she's more dramatic than all of us combined."

"She's not that bad," Christopher adds.

"Says you, who wasn't here for the fight of the century!" Peter counters. 

Jen laughs as she takes a sip of her wine cooler, "What was the fight about?"

"Oranges," Sam mutters, and everyone else cracks up laughing. He flips them all off, then looks at Jen. "You'll meet her Sunday, she's coming to the parade with us."

"Parade?" Jen looks to Christopher, questioning. This is the first she's heard of it. He knows the maximum amount of people she wants to be around is probably at its limit now; "parade" doesn't inspire much confidence that he's kept that in mind. 

His face morphs into a grimace, and he opens his mouth to respond but Wesley beats him to it. "Girl, it's the Pride Parade! I thought that's why you were coming this weekend. It's the event of the year! There's expected to be 300,000 people there." 

Jen's stomach drops, "Oh, that sounds..." she searches for a word, can't be honest, doesn't want to seem not supportive, "...fun." 

Chris smiles apologetically at her, as the others excitedly tell her about it. She doesn't know much about Pride month, and it's cool to hear them talk about it. She wishes she was that passionate about anything anymore. The conversation eventually shifts to other topics. Jen doesn't mention the parade again, but figures she can get out of going with an excuse Sunday morning. 

The boys are all aghast when they bring up their new favorite show, "Sex and the City", and Jen admits she's never heard of it. "But you live in the city!" Peter exclaims, as Wesley holds up a finger and leaves the room.

"Not having any sex, though," Christopher says, clearly tipsy.

Jen snaps her head to look at him, embarrassed. "Hey!"

"She broke up with her boyfriend," He tells the others.

Jen rolls her eyes at their chorus of apologies and pity. "It's fine," she pauses, takes another sip of her drink, "Sex wasn't good, anyway."

They hoop and holler at that, and Jen can't help but smile. Sam laughs the loudest, "Damn! Burn! Poor guy."

"Um, poor me!" Jen snaps back good-naturedly. 

Wesley appears again, "Don't worry, I have all the episodes so far recorded!" He says as he pops a tape into the VCR.

"That's my cue to get to bed," Sam says as he stands up from his chair. "Goodnight."

Jen looks at Chris, "I'm really tired. Can I just go to sleep, too?"

"Absolutely not. You're gonna love this!"

"You're such a Miranda, I think," Wesley adds. 

Jen slumps back onto the couch, resigned to her fate. "I have no idea what that means."

*

On Saturday, Jen lets Christopher drag her to some tourist traps in the morning after breakfast- the Griffith Observatory, the Hollywood sign and the Walk of Fame. It's all pretty cool, but Jen can't wait for what she's been looking forward to the most- the beach- which is where they spend the rest of the afternoon and evening. It's crowded, but they find a decent area to set up their umbrella, towels and cooler. 

It's beautiful, and Jen loves the warm breeze, lets the air fill her lungs as she relaxes, feels the sand in her toes. Her mom loved the beach, too, and they went as much as they could, even when she was sick. She always told Jen how much the ocean made her feel alive, the vastness of it a reminder of something greater. At the time, Jen didn't think much of it, didn't take advantage of having deep conversations with her while she could. Now Jen is thinking about her, thinking about how much she'd love it here, how much she wishes she was. How she'd talk to her about anything, about everything. 

"You okay?" Chris' voice interrupts her thoughts. "Having fun?"

"Yip," Jen answers, automatically. Then, after a beat of silence and against her natural instinct to say nothing, "I'm just thinking about my mom."

He slides his sunglasses down his nose and meets her eyes, clearly surprised by her honesty; it makes her feel bad, that it's so hard for her. "I miss her, too, you know. You can talk to me about her. I think it will help."

"I know," she swallows. "I am." It's a start.

*

Jen wakes up Sunday morning to the sound of several men taking jello shots. "There she is!" Wesley sing-songs as she walks in the kitchen, and he tries to hand one to her. "Good morning!"

She waves him off, "No thanks, I'm actually not feeling so good-"

"Stop," Chris interjects, firmly. He takes the shot from Wesley and holds it up to Jen. "You're coming to the parade. It will be good for you."

Jen opens her mouth, is going to object, or ask him to clarify why a parade with 300,000 strangers will be good for her, but stops at the look on his face. "Fine," she grabs the shot and takes it, grimacing as it slides down her throat. "Can I at least have some toast to help soak up the vodka?"

They get ready, and Chris lets Jen borrow a rainbow tie dyed tank to wear over her bathing suit top. She wants to look festive, but stay as cool as possible in the heat. She pulls her hair up into a ponytail, applies a little bit of eye makeup, and studies herself in the mirror, feeling a little buzz from the few jello shots she took on a mostly empty stomach. "Do you think I look like a lesbian?" 

Chris coughs, "Um, I don't know. Does it matter? What do you think?"

Jen shrugs, it doesn't matter, was just something that popped into her head, and she doesn't really care to give it much thought. She smirks at him. "I think this tank top must be really tight on you." 

Then she looks down, lets out a wolf whistle as she sees his rainbow speedo. "Not as tight as that, though."

Chris smiles and turns, pops his leg out as if he's modeling for her. "It's my first Pride after fully coming out. I'm owning it."

"I'm proud of you. And those runs on the beach are paying off, you look fucking hot."

He blows her a kiss, "So do you, but sorry. You're not my type."

They meet Peter and Wesley (clad in matching speedos) in the living room, and Christopher waves around a disposable camera. "We are getting some pictures today!" He hands it to Jen. "Roomie picture, please."

Jen holds it up to her eye as they pose, "Where exactly are you going to keep this today?" She's pretty sure the first "click" of the camera coincides with Chris flipping her off. 

After they get a few more pictures, Jen begrudgingly included, they walk downstairs to wait for the bus that is shuttling people to Santa Monica Boulevard. Sam is already there, chatting with a small group of people, all dressed casually and not as obviously for the Pride Parade. Jen wonders if there's some sort of unwritten rule, only gay people can dress in rainbows, and looks down at herself. She's snapped out of her thoughts when Sam introduces her to Rebecca, who is tall and slender, with short strawberry blonde hair. By the way she looks Jen over, clearly sizing her up, Jen definitely gets a dramatic vibe. "These are my roommates, Lisa and Dawn," Rebecca waves her hand rather dismissively in the direction of two other girls, both blonde and tan (like almost every other girl she's seen here), and Jen just gives them a curt smile and nod. They do the same, barely looking in her direction, equally as content to not deal with awkward small talk. "We're just waiting on Judy."

"Hi! I'm here!" Comes a bright, breathless greeting from Jen's right, and she instinctively turns in that direction.

Jen will never forget the first time she sees her. 

Slightly asymmetrical rainbows painted on her cheeks, rainbow flag wrapped around her shoulders, blinding smile- radiating the kind of overexuberance that would normally make Jen roll her eyes.

For some reason, this time, it doesn't.

Their eyes meet, and Jen keeps looking at her, can tell immediately she's different from the other girls in how she holds Jen's gaze. Her face is open, kind; her eyes a golden brown, shimmering in the sun. Her dark hair falls past her shoulders, wispy bangs swept to the side. Jen's cheeks start to warm at the prolonged eye contact, but she hasn't looked away, she isn't sure why, and knows she should say something-

"You must be Judy!" Christopher says, and Judy's eyes move from Jen to focus on him. "The artist, right? You just moved in a couple of weeks ago after Diana moved out?"

Judy nods and smiles, "Yep, guilty. Well, aspiring artist. Now I'm just a barista-slash-student."

"I'm Christopher. Aspiring choreographer, current dance teacher-slash-student. I live upstairs with Sam."

Judy's face brightens even more, "Oh, hi! You weren't home when I came over and met the other guys. Nice to finally meet you." She looks down at his outfit, or, lack thereof, "You look incredible, by the way."

"Thanks sweetie, you do, too!" He touches Jen's arm, "This is my friend Jen, she's visiting from New York."

Judy looks back to Jen, and Jen feels some sort of flustered again immediately. "Hi, I'm Judy!" Judy holds out her hand, and Jen, a bit surprised, takes it. Her hand is soft, Jen notes, and she seems to be wearing several rings- Jen feels them, cool against her skin. 

"Jen."

It lasts a few moments, then Judy finally lets go, looking down as she drops Jen's hand. "Cute tank top!"

"Thanks!" Chris jumps in, "It's mine." 

They laugh. "Well, you have impeccable taste," Judy says to him, then looks back to Jen, "and it looks great on you."

"Thank you," Jen accepts the compliment, and wants to return one, that's what people do, right? "Cute cheeks," she blurts, and as soon as it comes out, her face gets hot, what a fucking dumb thing to say. Luckily, they all laugh again, and Judy thanks her; Jen thinks she sees a slight blush under the rainbows. Jen shakes her head a bit. She must have gotten even more buzzed than she thought. 

Mercifully, the bus pulls up ("You didn't tell me it was a school bus," Jen says, and Chris just shrugs), and the whole group boards. It's already almost full, and she squeezes in a seat in the back with Chris, cheap leather sticking to her legs. She loses sight of the rest of the group, and takes a moment to breathe. The bus is packed and raucous now. She's not used to socializing this much, with this many people, and she remembers why- she doesn't like it, and she fucking sucks at it. 

Chris leans over to her, as if he can hear her thoughts, "'Cute cheeks'?" 

"Fuck off!" Jen grumbles. "You're the one who forced me into this."

"You're welcome," he grins. The guys in front of them turn around and start talking to Chris, he introduces them as other students he knows, but Jen has hit her limit for retaining peoples' names. Her eyes scan to the front of the bus, and she sees Judy; she's talking animatedly with the people around her. Of course, she seems the type of person to do well in a group. Just then she looks up, smiles and gives a little wave. Jen turns around, but realizes there's no one behind her; she's the recipient of the wave. Embarrassed at being caught staring, she doesn't return it.

Jen settles back into the seat and looks out the window, tuning out the party while she shakes off whatever weird feeling is bubbling up within her. It's been a great trip so far, she's been feeling good, and being surrounded by people celebrating shouldn't change that. 

Her mom would be really proud of Christopher, Jen thinks. She was like a second mother to him, knew he was gay years before his own parents, accepted him and supported him. She'd love that Jen was here, would love to see pictures and listen to the stories about it. Jen closes her eyes, imagines telling her. 

When they get to West Hollywood, the bus stops and everyone gets off in a rush. The parade has started, and Jen follows Christopher as he drags her along with the rest of the group, trying to find the best spot they can on the building and palm-tree lined street. The atmosphere is insane- so many people, all having the time of their lives, dancing and singing along to the music coming from the nearby parade float. Jen takes it all in, and thinks about how cool it is. This is a place where hundreds of thousands of people gather, many who in daily life probably feel like they have to hide a part of themselves. Here, they can celebrate everything that they are, can just be. How great it must feel to be able to be fully yourself, she thinks as they settle on a spot, right in front of the action. Christopher turns and looks at her, "I'm so glad you're here!" He shouts over the music. "Thank you for coming!"

"I really didn't have a choice!" She shouts back, and his smile turns into a glare. "I'm kidding! I'm glad I'm here, too." She really means it. 

He grins again, then holds up his camera. "Let's get a picture with the parade in the back!"

"Okay, seriously, where are you keeping that?!"

"In my fanny pack," Wesley responds from Chris' other side.

"Fanny pack!" Jen guffaws.

He sticks his tongue out at her, then grabs the camera, "Here, I'll take your picture. Say 'fanny pack!'" Jen rolls her eyes, but smiles as Chris throws his arm around her shoulders. "One, two, three, FANNY PACK!"

Just then Judy appears, after making her rounds through the group. "Hi! That's going to be a super cute picture."

"Hi," Jen says.

"JUDY!" Wesley throws his arms around her as if they're best friends, and she laughs, returning the hug, as much as she can while not dropping the flag still draped around her shoulders.

Then they all turn toward the parade as a red convertible drives by. Judy steps closer to Jen. "Are you and Wesley good friends?" Jen asks her.

Judy smiles and shakes her head. "No, I've met him, like, twice. I think he's drunk."

Jen pokes Wesley in the shoulder until he turns around. "What else do you have in that fanny pack? You holding out on us?"

He smirks. "Oh, now you like the fanny pack?"

"Such an underrated fashion accessory!" Judy says, so seriously it makes Jen laugh. 

Jen watches Wesley as he looks down, rummages around, then holds up several tiny plastic containers. "They might be pretty warm now, but here you go." He hands them to Jen. 

"Jello shots?" Judy asks. 

Jen looks at her, quirks an eyebrow. "Interested?"

"Absolutely."

She hands three to Judy and keeps three for herself. They open the first at the same time, and Judy holds hers up- Jen smiles as she clinks hers to it. "Cheers!"

"Happy Pride!" Judy shouts, and Jen repeats it.

Jen coughs as the warm jello makes its way down her throat, and she looks over when she hears Judy make a gagging noise. "Oh my God, so gross!"

"Disgusting!" Jen laughs at the same time. 

They finish them off anyway, and the combination of the vodka and the weather is making Jen feel really warm, inside and out.  She looks back at the parade, admiring a float with huge bouquets of flowers adorning it, three drag queens waving to the crowd.

"They're beautiful!" Judy exclaims.

Jen nods, then looks over at her, sees her wrapping her flag tightly around herself. "Are you cold?"

"What? Oh, no," Judy pauses as she slides the flag down behind her shoulders. They're bare, and Jen's eyes flick down to the purple tube top she's wearing, stop for a moment on her collarbone, then shift away quickly as Judy continues, "I just wasn't sure if this was the kind of place I could show some skin."

She deadpans it, and for a moment Jen thinks she's serious; she side-eyes her, and she's grinning. Jen smiles, nodding, and they both turn back to the parade as a flat bed 18-wheeler drives by, music blaring and people dancing, including a group of women wearing nothing but thongs and pasties over their nipples. "Yeah, you definitely had a valid concern there. I think they have you beat in the "showing some skin" department."

"Well, sadly I wore that outfit yesterday, and didn't have time to do laundry."

A laugh bursts out of Jen, she's not sure why she's surprised by it, but in addition to being obviously very nice and beautiful, Judy's funny. She's happy when Judy doesn't keep bouncing around through the crowd, instead keeping close to Jen for continued parade commentary.

"How many red convertibles do you think are participating in this parade?" Jen asks when she sees the third one so far.

"Good question. Too bad we don't have any more delicious shots, could be a drinking game."

"I don't know, we wouldn't want to get alcohol poisoning," Jen quips, and Judy laughs. Jen finds herself smiling at Judy's laugh, wants to hear it again, which is a thought she can't remember having about anyone before. Must be the warm vodka. 

A group stops in front of them and a man on a microphone says, "Hello West Hollywood! We are Christ Chapel of the Valley, and we're here to tell you, Jesus loves each and every one of you!"

Christopher turns around to look at Jen, "That's where I've been going to church!"

Jen nods, feigning interest, "Mmmm." It is really nice, though, that the church would have a float at the parade. She's glad he has a place to go where he's (at least seemingly) accepted. 

"Is this your first time at Pride?" Judy asks her when Chris turns back around.

"Yep," Jen answers, "I didn't even know about it until I got into town. Didn't have much choice but to come." She realizes that sounds incredibly shitty, so adds in a rush, "But I'm really glad he brought me. What about you?"

"Ah, I see," Judy says, some sort of look of realization crossing her face, then she shakes her head. "No, I came last year with my ex-girlfriend. I loved it so much, knew I'd have to come back every year."

"Ex-girlfriend" echoes in Jen's brain for some reason, then their attention is snapped back to the parade by whistles and yells from the crowd around them. A man with the Celebration Theatre float has dropped his shorts, mooning their side of the street.  

"Woo! Nice ass!" Judy shouts, then "What? It is!" to Jen when she looks at her, feigning shock. 

"A little pale for my taste," Jen remarks, and there's Judy's laugh again.  

There's float after float of the most random and diverse groups of people, it's absolutely fascinating to Jen. Everyone seems so happy and free, it's infectious, and for the first time in as long as she can remember, she's not feeling the crushing weight of grief. 

"I think that's the most leather I've ever seen in one place," Judy says as one group passes, Jen didn't catch the sign on their float to see who they were.

Christopher snaps his head around to shout,  "And that's not even the biker gays!"

A few floats later is a group of sailors, and Jen leans to Judy, "I think that's the most seamen I've ever seen in one place." She feels strangely happy when that earns her the biggest laugh yet. 

Jen's absolute favorite thing they see is a float that looks like a big yellow school bus, with a giant Panda bear driving it. The sign on the side says THE PANDA ROOM. "What's the Panda Room?" She asks loudly, to whoever wants to respond. The guys shrug.

"I have no idea, but sounds like a place I'd like to visit," Judy answers. 

The next best group is the ROTC, who perform a routine to "It's Raining Men"; some of them are twirling and throwing color guard flags, while most are handling wooden rifles. Everything is in perfect synchrony as they walk; Jen loves it, and thinks they did a great job with the choreography, though she might have a couple of notes.

"Check out the gun show!" Peter exclaims. 

Christopher laughs, "We didn't even have to buy a ticket."

"Not as good as this gun show," Wesley adds, flexing his bicep then kissing it. They all crack up at him, and he hands the camera to Jen. "Can you get a picture?"

They get Sam's attention, who, after some convincing, joins his roommates for a flexing picture. Jen snaps a couple of them through her laughter, as they argue over who has the best muscles. "Sorry, you're all very impressive, but I think I win," Judy interjects as she holds her arm up and flexes. Jen stops laughing as she's now distracted by Judy's somehow slender, yet surprisingly toned, arm muscles. She's feeling warm again, and takes another picture before handing the camera back to Wesley.

"So?" Sam asks Jen. "Who can charge the most to their gun show?"

Jen pretends to think about it for a second, "Judy. Definitely." Judy winks at her, and everyone else groans.

"Picking the woman, that's sexist," Wesley pouts.

Judy smirks at him, then flexes and kisses her bicep, in some kind of mocking gloat. Jen stifles a laugh at the look on his face. She can't remember the last time she laughed so much, or had fun. Then again, she can't remember the last time she even attempted to socialize. When she looks to the parade again, which seems to be winding down, she catches the tail end of a float that is very odd without any context: a woman in a bikini, thrusting her hips in a bathtub. 

Before Jen can process that enough to make a comment, Judy's pointing at another woman, dancing on a stripper pole. "Look at her! Wow, she's like, crazy talented."

Jen watches, and she is good, but before she can stop herself, "I'm better," is coming out of her mouth. 

Judy's head whips around to look at her in surprise. "Oh, really?" Her voice drops, "That's something I'd love to see. Tell me more." Then she smiles, but it's a different kind of smile than Jen's seen from her all day, and Jen feels her body's response to it, some kind of warm shiver she can't recall ever feeling before. 

"Um," she clears her throat, "Yeah, I used to dance. Nothing like that, I don't know why I said that."

"Probably because you know you would be good at it. So what kind, then? Ballet?"

Jen nods, but is growing uncomfortable, she really shouldn't have brought this up. "Ballet, tap, jazz, hip-hop. A little of everything."

"That's amazing! So, why did you quit?"

Jen's stomach drops. Her dead mother is not something she wants to talk about right now. She never does, not even with those closest to her; she definitely doesn't want to with a stranger, even one she likes as much as she likes Judy. And especially when she's finally enjoying herself. "Uh-" she starts after the silence has gone on for too long. 

"Hey!" Christopher grabs her arm, "We're gonna try to get to the buses to leave on the first one. I'm hungry."

Jen could kiss him. "Okay!" She moves to follow him then looks at Judy, then the rest of the group as to not be so obvious. "Is everyone leaving?"

"Yep!" He confirms, and Judy glances around, presumably to catch sight of her roommates. Rebecca and the others are walking with Sam, just a few steps ahead of them, so they all fall into a quick stride to the bus. The one that's waiting is still mostly empty, so they all clamber on. Chris and Peter slide into an empty seat, and Chris looks up at her, gives her a knowing smile. She sits down behind him; Judy, hot on her heels, sits down beside her without a word.

Everyone is standing, or draped over their seats, recounting their favorite parts of the parade; Jen, now, feels at ease contributing in conversation with the group. As the bus fills up and gets moving, everyone settles in for the ride, and Judy focuses on her. For a second, Jen is worried dance will come up again, but Judy either forgot, or sensed her hesitation in talking about it (probably the latter; Judy seems the type that would pick up on things like that), because she doesn't bring it up.

"So, you're visiting from New York? Which part are you from? How long are you in town?"

"Until Tuesday morning. And, Brooklyn," Jen answers, "Same as Christopher. We've been friends since the sixth grade."

Judy's eyes widen. "Wow, that's so great. I don't have any friends I've known that long."

That surprises Jen. "Really? You seem like such a people person."

Judy gives her a small smile, "Thank you, that's really nice. I guess I am, but I changed schools a lot. Never really got the chance to know people very well, or keep in touch with them. All around here, though, I've never left California. I'd love to visit New York."

Jen nods. That's most people's opinion on New York- great place to visit, not live. She wonders why Judy changed schools a lot, but doesn't want to pry, so plays it safe instead. "This is my first time in California."

"Really? Do you like it?"

Jen meets Judy's eyes. "I do."

Judy's lips quirk upward again. "I'm glad. Who knows if I'll ever go to New York, I have no reason to, really. All I know about it is from TV shows and movies," she pauses, and then, grabs Jen's arm excitedly, Jen can feel her rings slightly digging into her skin, but doesn't flinch away, "Oh my gosh, have you been watching 'Sex and the City'? It's so good!"

At that, Christopher pops his head up and turns around, "HA!", and it seems to startle Judy; she moves her hand from Jen's arm and jumps a bit. 

Jen smacks him lightly, and he sits back down. Judy looks at her quizzically, and she explains, "I'd never heard of it, but they forced me to watch it the other night," then she adds in a whisper, "I fell asleep. Don't tell him, he'll make me watch all of them again."

Judy mimes like she's zipping her lips, locking them and throwing away the key. "Okay, what about 'Friends'? Everyone loves 'Friends'!"

Jen nods, "Duh, of course."

Judy gets excited, "Oh my gosh, could you BELIEVE that Ross said "Rachel"?! What do you think's going to happen? I can't take the suspense, it's killing me. I hope they get back together."

Jen waves her hand, "Pssshhh, fuck Ross. I stopped liking them as soon as he was all possessive and paranoid. My ex-boyfriend was like that. It is not attractive."

Judy nods, thoughtful. "Yeah, I was pretty mad at him. And "we were on a break" was total bullshit."

"Totally," Jen agrees. 

"I'm a hopeless romantic, though, and he's loved her forever," Judy sighs dreamily, "He's her lobster."

"Just because he's loved her forever doesn't mean she should be with him," Jen feels herself becoming indignant now, can't help it, "and neither does a lame analogy about crustaceans. Rachel can do better."

Judy laughs, clearly not put off by Jen's passionate disagreement, "Okay, note to self, you're not impressed by the lobster line," before Jen can think about what that means, she continues, "So, is Rachel your favorite character?"

"Hmmm... yeah, I mean, who doesn't love Jennifer Aniston? Chandler, too, though. He reminds me the most of myself. Using sarcasm to cope," Judy's studying her a little too hard, now, so she deflects, "Who's yours?"

"Phoebe," Judy answers quickly. 

Jen smiles. That, she would have guessed. "Is that why you wear so many rings?"

Judy looks pleasantly surprised, and a bit shy as she looks down at her hands, back up, adorably scrunching her nose. "Too much?"

"No," Jen answers immediately. She doesn't know what it is about Judy, that brings it out in her, this earnestness.

After giving Jen a soft smile, Judy's expression turns a bit more serious. "I always wore a lot of rings, actually, but it's just one reason I relate to Phoebe," she pauses, as if she's deciding whether or not to continue, must find something on Jen's face that convinces her to, "My mom didn't die when I was young, but she was never around much."

Jen swallows the sudden lump in her throat. This kind of conversation would normally make her uncomfortable, but she finds herself wanting to know this person. "Why not?" She asks. 

"Drugs," Judy answers simply. "Always her number one priority. And she's in prison now, has been for a couple of years, so now she's really not around."

"Fuck, I'm sorry. That sucks."

Judy shakes her head, "Yeah, but it's okay. At least I know where she is now. And I'm good at taking care of myself."

Jen watches her closely as she speaks, can't seem to look away, and she can feel the endless positivity emanating from her. It's so genuine; Jen wishes she had even an ounce of that within herself. Judy looks right back, and Jen is overwhelmed; it's like Judy is really seeing her. She finally looks away, out the window as if it's super interesting. They're pulling back up to the apartments, and Jen and Judy follow Chris, Peter, and the rest of the group off the bus  after it comes to a stop. 

"I need pizza, a shower, and a nap, in that order!" Christopher announces as they slowly make their way to the stairs. "Anybody want to go to Louie's later?" Jen doesn't know what that is, but is obviously just along for the ride; everyone else nods, except for Judy's California Barbie roommates, who Jen hasn't seen a semblance of personality from today. Jen notices Judy nodding, though, rather emphatically. 

"Let's meet back here at 9!" Wesley, so obviously a Type-A, directs. "Be there or be square, bitches!"

"Don't you mean be there or be straight?" Sam booms, holding his hand up for a high-five; he's instead met with a mixture of laughter and "boo"s, and a huge eyeroll from Rebecca. Finally Judy takes pity on him, stretching up on her toes to slap his outstretched palm. Then the group splits up, but not before Judy gives Jen a parting smile. 

"He's right, though. No one wants to be that!" Christopher jokes as they walk up the stairs. Jen isn't really paying attention to him, though. Her mind is elsewhere. 

*

After much-needed pizza and an even more much-needed nap, Jen showers and gets ready to go to Louie's, which she now knows is a bar down the street. She blow-dries her hair and gets dressed, in white washed jeans with a chunky black belt, her own form fitting black tank top, and short black boots. Then she studies herself in the mirror, same as she did in the morning. She got some sun today, and along with a fresh tan, the freckles on her nose are more apparent. With her long blonde hair, she's looking like the California girls she's been mocking in her head all weekend. The mascara she applies make her eyes pop, and, satisfied, she heads to the living room. 

The guys are in the kitchen, finishing off the last of the jello shots. Wesley holds one up. "Would you like one? Cold from the fridge, not lukewarm from my fanny pack," he smirks. 

"No, I've had my fill of those for one lifetime. I'll wait until we get to the bar."

When they get downstairs, it's a couple of minutes past 9, and only Rebecca is there. She looks at them impatiently, as Sam slides his arm around her shoulders, "How is it I'm always waiting on you guys?"

"Is no one else coming?" Jen asks, ignoring Rebecca's comment. 

She shakes her head. "I think they're all sleeping."

To say Jen is disappointed is an understatement. She just went from looking forward to the night to wanting to turn around and go back upstairs. She considers it, briefly; her desire to be a good friend to Christopher wins out. They walk the few blocks to the bar, it takes less than 10 minutes. Once inside, they find a tall table near the door to a back patio, the new Ace of Base song thumping through the speakers. A waitress comes over to take their orders, and Jen asks for a double vodka soda- her drink of choice when she wants to get drunk. As everyone chats, she just sips her drink and looks around the bar. Her earlier high has worn off, and it isn't hard to figure out why. There is a good selection of music playing, though, and as she gets her second drink, feels the liquor flowing through her veins, her body starts to sway on its own accord. 

Jen feels a presence behind her right before she hears a voice, "Is the dance floor calling your name?"

She spins around to see Judy grinning at her, and she takes a breath to temper her instant excitement. "Hi! I didn't think you were coming."

Judy's face morphs into a kind of playful grimace, "Yeaaaahhh, I have a problem with punctuality. It always takes me longer to get ready than I think it will," she lowers her voice, "I think Rebecca is really sick of it."

"Oh, fuck her, from what I hear she's a drama queen," they both look across the table, where Rebecca is gabbing Sam's ear off about something; he's clearly not listening, and Judy giggles. Jen nudges her with her elbow, "See? Anyway, it was time well spent. You look beautiful." It just comes out, Jen doesn't really know what she's doing, only that it's the truth. Judy's wearing a spaghetti strap dress, black with tiny flowers all over it. It's a style that's really popular, but Jen's never worn one herself, doesn't think she'd pull it off well. Judy definitely does. Her strappy sandals have a bit of a heel, bringing her to eye level with Jen. Her hair is up now, messy bun complete with butterfly clips- something else Jen would never dare wear, and for the first time ever, she thinks they look cute.

"Thank you! You do, too. Your hair is gorgeous." Then she taps Christopher on the shoulder, he turns and gives her a hug.

"Hi! I'm happy you came! Jen was going to be pouting all night."

"Hey!" Jen swats his arm, embarrassed.

Judy just laughs, "I'm sure she would have survived. I was wondering, who do I need to compliment for her tank top?"

"Ha! That one is all her. Mine wouldn't show nearly that much cleavage."

Jen's face burns, and Judy turns back to her. "All my compliments to you, then." She feels her face gets even hotter at the look on Judy's face. Then Judy motions to her drink, "Whatcha drinking?"

Jen remembers her drink is there, takes a sip. "Double vodka soda."

"So we're seriously drinking tonight, huh?" Judy's eyes twinkle.

"Oh, abso lute ly."

Just then their waitress comes by, and Judy points to Jen, "I'll have what she's having." The waitress asks for her ID, and Judy shows her.

"Janet Robertson?" Jen asks when the waitress leaves.

Judy gives her a guilty look, then whispers conspiratorially, "It's a fake. I don't turn 21 until February. But it looks like me, right?"

Jen looks down at Janet Robertson, 27-year-old, then back up to Judy; the only similarity she sees is brown hair. "No."

Judy throws her head back and laughs, and Jen feels something in her chest. "Well, it's worked every time."

"That's absolutely shocking to me," Jen says, "You look nothing alike. Plus there's no way you pass for 27."

"Oh, look at you with the fast math skills!"

"Yes, simple subtraction, I'm a real Albert Einstein."

"You know, he actually wasn't a mathematician, he was a physicist."

"Thank you so much for correcting me on that."

"No problem!"

The waitress drops off Judy's drink, and there's a moment where Jen and Judy just pause and look at each other, smiling. Jen becomes well aware Christopher is watching them, and that she hadn't paid a lick of attention to anyone else since Judy walked in. "Um," she downs the rest of her drink, "so, you're 20? You'll be a junior this year, then?"

Judy nods, takes a sip of her own drink. "Yep. It will be my first year in the UCLA art program. I did two years at community college, got my basics out of the way, and then applied. I was able to get some grant and scholarship money. I'm so excited!"

"What kind of art do you... do?" Jen knows absolutely nothing about art, hopes it's the right question to ask. 

"I paint, mostly. I also like sculpting, but I really suck at it."

"That's cool. I can barely draw stick figures."

Judy grins at her. "Well, I can barely do the macarena, so I guess that makes us even."

"Oh, God, worst song ever!"

Christopher interjects then, "Don't you dare blaspheme the macarena, Jennifer!"

Jen mock glares at him, "Oh shit, Jennifer, he's serious! Or wasted." 

He grabs her and pulls her into a hug, "Just for that, I'm hugging you! You will take it!"

Jen fights to get out of his grip, and Judy laughs, watching them. "It's so awesome how long you've been friends."

"Yes, lucky me!" Chris fans his face as if he's crying, and Jen flips him off. Judy keeps laughing. 

After their waitress drops off another round, Wesley motions everyone out to the small dance floor. "Come on girls!" Judy follows, so Jen does, too, only Sam and Rebecca staying behind. The ensuing group dance to "Tubthumping" is a blast, Jen just drunk enough to not think too hard about dancing. And Judy was right, she has no rhythm, which Jen actually finds adorable. 

When the song ends and another begins, Jen sobers a bit at the opening notes of "Shine" by Collective Soul. Chris, not sensing her shift in mood, grabs her arm. "Oh my gosh, should we do our routine? It will bring down the house!"

Jen forces a smile through gritted teeth, "Actually, I think I need some fresh air." 

She heads for the patio, hesitates when she sees the cigarette vending machine, then stops to buy a pack of Marlboros and a book of matches. She can hear Chris calling after her, "Jen, I'm sorry!" But he knows better than to follow her. Times like this, she needs to be alone. The patio isn't crowded, and she finds a chair by the wrought-iron fence facing the street, sits down and props her feet up. Of course there are speakers out here, too, so she's being serenaded as she smokes with "woah, heaven let your light shine down."

She's frustrated at herself for having such a strong reaction; she'd been doing so well on the trip keeping her negative emotions in check. Almost immediately, she hears the scrape of a chair next to her. She's not surprised to look over and see Judy settling in. 

Judy motions towards the cigarette, "Fresh air, huh?"

Jen nods, then looks back to the street. "The freshest."

Judy laughs softly, then, "Are you okay?"

Jen doesn't answer verbally, but does some sort of weird combination of nodding her head "yes" while simultaneously shaking it "no".

"Oh, okay. Thank you for making that crystal clear for me." Jen huffs out a laugh at her teasing tone, but doesn't say anything. After a beat of silence, Judy continues, "If you need to talk, a drunk chat is totally in my wheelhouse."

Jen finally looks at her, already breathing a little easier in her presence, somehow. "I was in until you said wheelhouse."

Judy nods and laughs. "I can also sit here in silence with you. That works, too."

Jen nods, and they do sit in silence for a few minutes, watching people walk by. And Jen can't explain it, but just like she found herself wanting to know Judy earlier, now she wants Judy to know her. "That song...  Christopher and I choreographed a ballet dance to it when we were juniors in high school. We both submitted it to the UCLA dance program, and got scholarships to attend because of it." She's still facing forward, but sees Judy nodding in her periphery. "It was our dream to move here, to choreograph together." She pauses, takes a long drag of her cigarette. She's never said all of this, out loud, to anyone. "But my mom, she... she'd been sick almost my whole life. Cancer. It got really bad my senior year, and I just couldn't leave. So, I went to Brooklyn College instead, decided to live at home. They have a dance program, too." She finishes her cigarette, flicks it down on the ground, puts it out with a quick twist of her shoe. Now that her hand is free, Judy immediately reaches over to grab it. Surprised, Jen's eyes snap to her. What's even more surprising to Jen is that she doesn't want to pull away, that it's comforting, that she wants to be closer to this person. 

"What a tough decision, Jen, I can't even imagine."

Jen nods, "Yeah, it sucked, but there wasn't really a decision to be made. I knew I had to be there at," her voice breaks for a second, "at the end."

Judy squeezes her hand. "What happened?"

"She died. About a year later. And I quit dancing, quit doing choreography. She was my biggest supporter, it made me too sad, and angry, I just couldn't do it anymore. Haven't been able to do much of anything, really, other than barely pass some basic classes to stay in college. Not until this weekend. Christopher finally badgered me into visiting."

"I'm so glad he's a good badger...-er." It's not the response Jen expected at all, and it actually brings a smile to her face. Then she takes a huge breath, exhaling out the weight of telling that story. She looks at Judy again, and Judy's face is crumpled in pain, in empathy. "I'm so sorry, Jen. I can't imagine how much you must miss her, or how hard all of that was. Is."

"Yeah." She turns away, if she keeps looking at Judy, she fears she might cry. 

"And giving up your dream, too... that and losing your mom, I'm sure you feel you've lost so much of yourself."

Jen looks back at Judy in disbelief, surprised by her, again. This is someone she met today, who already understands her better than anyone else in her life. "Wow. You should be a shrink."

Judy grins, scrunches her nose, "Ya think? Probably a lot more money in that than in art."

"Ha, yeah," Jen pauses. "You're right, though, that's exactly how I feel. And I know my mom would want me to be happy, everyone tells me that, she told me that before she died. I just don't know how."

"Do you mind if I stay in shrink mode a little longer?"

"Go ahead."

"Only because I have experience with this... maybe holding onto the pain is your way of holding onto her. It's been a part of you for so long... but maybe you can work on letting it go. And finding out who you are without it."

It hits Jen full force in the chest, how spot-on she is, and she can't respond right away. She has to sit with those words for a minute, really let them sink in. And she realizes, she is. Right in this moment, because of this person, she's finding out new things about herself.

It's been itching at the back of her brain, for a long time, probably, but not until she met Judy did it come careening to the forefront. She likes women. Is attracted to them. To this one, at least- more attracted than she'd ever been to Ted, or any other guy who'd ever hit on her. It makes sense, now, why she didn't feel like she knew herself. It's almost a relief, that it's more than just "my mom died and I'm too wrapped up in grief to function as a human being". Because she doesn't know if that will ever go away, not fully. This, though... it's a lot to process. But this she can work with. 

She squeezes Judy's hand, and when she finds her voice, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"I don't know, I- I'm just really glad I met you, I guess." 

"So am I."

They're just looking at each other again, and Jen is thinking about how perfect Judy's face is, how she wants to touch it, but doesn't know how to go about that, yet. Then, she sees Christopher approaching from Judy's side, tears her eyes away from her to look at him. She drops Judy's hand. 

"Forgive me yet?" He asks as he reaches them. 

"Of course," Jen answers easily, "I'm sorry I stormed off like that."

He looks shocked; she's never been the best at apologizing. "I understand."

Judy smiles at them both, then clasps her hands together, "Awww. Now kiss and make up!"

"Ew," Jen and Chris both say at the same time, making her laugh. Jen stands, and Judy follows suit. 

"Let's go back in. I need another drink!"

They re-join the others, drink and dance for another hour or so, then Chris reminds Jen he has to go to work early. They all settle their tabs and walk back together. "So I'll be at work from 8 until 5 tomorrow. You going to be okay on your own?"

Jen nods, "Sure. I'll just hang out."

"I'm off work tomorrow," Judy jumps in, and Jen's heart thumps, she thinks she can hear it, wonders if anyone else can. "If you want some company."

Jen looks at her, giant smile blooming. "Sure."

"Wanna just come down to my place after you wake up? Apartment 117."

"That sounds good."

"Don't expect to see her before noon!" Christopher laughs.

Jen and Chris get ready for bed, not doing much talking, both tired and a little drunk. When they settle under the covers, he finally says something. "So, you and Judy." It's a statement, not a question.

"Yeah?"

"There's something there, huh?"

"Yeah." She hears the smile in her own voice. "Does that surprise you?"

"No, not really. Does it surprise you?"

Jen thinks about it for a second, answers honestly. "No. Not really."

That night, Jen has a dream of her mother. They're at the beach, here, in California; Jen can practically smell it. Her mother looks vibrant, healthy. "You're my pride and joy," she says.

*

Jen knocks on Judy's door just after 10:00 the next morning, clad in a t-shirt, soffe shorts, and flip flops. She doesn't know what they'll be doing, but figures she can change if she needs to. Judy throws open the door almost instantly, "Good morning!"

"Hi," Jen smiles. She wants to kick herself for feeling nervous. Judy's wearing a thin floral robe, and looks way too beautiful first thing in the morning. 

"Come on in, I'm just finishing up breakfast. Coffee?" She motions towards the small kitchen table where there's a full mug, and Jen slides into a chair, looking around. It's the exact same layout as Chris' place. 

"Thank you."

"Cream and sugar?" Judy asks over her shoulder from where she's cutting up fruit on the counter.

"No, black is fine."

"Ah, that's what I thought."

"You've thought about how I take my coffee?" Jen teases. 

"Oh yeah. When we first met, I thought, 'blonde, stunning, drinks black coffee.'"

Now Jen grins, "And you? Two creams, three sugars?"

Judy turns to Jen, touches her finger to her nose, "Yep. I like a little coffee with my cream and sugar."

The oven dings, and a couple of minutes later, Judy is presenting Jen with a plate of fruit and a piece of quiche. "This looks great, thank you. I love breakfast food but I don't usually get up in time to eat it. Plus I'm a terrible cook." She takes a bite, and it is great.

"No problem! I love to cook."

"Chef, artist, therapist, is there anything you don't do well?"

Judy has a mouth full of food, and the only response she gives Jen is a shrug and a wink. Jen didn't know there was such a thing as a loaded wink, but that definitely was one, and she blushes, looks down to her food. They eat in silence for a couple of minutes, but then Judy breaks it. "So, I was thinking we could go to the beach today, if you want?"

Jen nods, it's exactly what she was hoping to do. "Yes, I love the beach here, I'd love to go again before I head home." Suddenly, the thought of flying home the next morning makes her sad. 

"Great! I'll have to bring some sunscreen though, I got a little burnt yesterday. And my face looks ridiculous."

Jen looks at her, studies her makeup-free face closely, and laughs when she sees what Judy is talking about- the faint outline of rainbows on her cheeks. "No, I think you should put sunscreen in only those exact spots, really lean into it. I'll help you." 

"Much better idea."

After they finish eating, Jen goes upstairs to put her bathing suit on underneath her clothes and grab a towel, while Judy calls a cab to take them to the beach. 

It's far less crowded than it was when she came with Christopher, being a Monday, and she and Judy get a spot much closer to the water. When Judy takes off her cover-up to reveal a black bikini, Jen tries not to stare too hard, and when Judy asks her to slather her back with sunscreen, her hands tremble. She holds her breath when she asks Judy to return the favor. 

They relax and chat for hours, and Jen is amazed at how easy it is, just being with her. 

"The beach is where I have some of my best memories with my mom," Judy says, after a lull in conversation; Jen had been almost asleep, laying on her stomach. She raises her head and turns to look at Judy.

"Really?" 

"Yeah, I think I was about 11. She actually got clean for a year or so, and we came here all the time. It didn't last, of course, but... she really tried."

Jen sits up, facing the water like Judy is, and nods. "That's nice you have those memories. My mom loved the beach. She always wanted to try surfing, she was really athletic," she looks out at the ocean, where several people are surfing. "I don't think I could try it, that would scare the shit out of me."

"Pssshhh," Judy scoffs, "I bet you could do it," she pauses, "your athleticism, then? You got that from your mom?"

"Oh, I'm not athletic."

"I think dancers are incredibly athletic."

"I guess," Jen says, but she stops there, doesn't want to give the response she usually would: "I'm not a dancer any more."

They sit in silence for a few moments. "You know," Judy starts, "It's never too late to chase your dreams."

"Let's add "motivational speaker" to your list of talents," Jen jokes, but feels a weight settle into her gut, because Judy has given voice to yet another thought hiding deep in Jen's subconscious. 

Judy giggles, then, "Can I say something weird?"

"Sure."

"You have the most adorable nose I've ever seen. And your eyes? That's an ocean I'd like to swim in."

Jen laughs, blushes for what feels like the millionth time since they met, and she could easily get used to Judy complimenting her, flirting with her. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"No. Only you." Jen tries to think of something to say, God knows she's spent enough time staring at Judy's face to fucking say something about it, but she is not good at this, when Judy asks, "How do you feel about weed?"

Jen quirks an eyebrow, "You say that to all the girls, too?"

Judy laughs, shakes her head, "No, I have a joint I've been saving, was wondering if you'd want to go back to my apartment and share it with me. I definitely wouldn't make that offer to just anyone."

Jen's nervous, at what else she thinks (hopes?) Judy might be offering. But she nods, "Yes, I do want to do that."

When they get back to the apartments, Jen goes up to Christopher's to quickly shower and change, while Judy does the same. This time when she knocks on the door, Judy answers with wet hair and a sun-kissed face Jen doesn't want to look away from. She follows Judy to her bedroom, takes Judy's lead, sitting on the bed next to her, backs against the wall. She takes a look around, there are several half full boxes on the floor, and Jen remembers she's only lived there a couple of weeks. There are a few things on the walls Jen makes note of while Judy lights the joint: a print of "Starry Night" (Jen actually knows that one) and a couple of other paintings that may or may not be famous, and a Spice Girls poster. 

"Let me get this straight," Jen says, and Judy nods as she holds the joint to her lips, inhaling. "You've only lived here two weeks, aren't even unpacked, but you made sure to get the Spice Girls poster on the wall?!"

Judy exhales out a loud laugh along with the smoke, passing the joint to Jen. "It was the first thing I hung up, actually. Are you not a fan?"

Jen shrugs, "As much as the next person, I guess. Not enough to have a fucking poster." She inhales, holds it in, savors the instant feeling that comes with it. "'Wannabe' is a bop, though." 

"Oh, a bop, is it?"

"Uh huh. So, who's your favorite Spice?"

"My favorite spice? Paprika, I guess."

"Dork," Jen laughs, nudging Judy with her shoulder, then letting it stay there, no space at all between them now. 

"That would be like picking my favorite child. Impossible."

"Gun to your head. Favorite Spice Girl." They continue to pass the joint back and forth, Jen feeling carefree, light as air. 

"Well, they're all amazing, I love them all."

"Even Posh?" Jen's aghast.

"Aw, she gets a bad rap! She seems like an ice queen, but she has a big heart underneath. I've always envied people like that, who could protect themselves. I've spent a lot of time caring for people who didn't care for me."

"They're fucking idiots, all of them," Jen says, maybe a little too emphatically. 

Judy smiles at her, blindingly, and Jen is momentarily distracted by the little lines that pop up by her mouth when she smiles. They're so adorable. How has she not noticed them before? Do other people have those? "That's sweet," Judy says as she discards the joint, then grabs Jens hand, laces their fingers together, settles them on her thigh. "Baby Spice is probably my favorite."

Jen had forgotten what they were talking about for a second, but snaps back to it. "Oh yeah, I can see that. You're definitely a Baby."

Judy shrugs, "Yeah, maybe I used to be. Personally, I think I'm more of a Ginger."

Jen barks out a laugh, "Ginger? Really?!"

"It's layered!" Judy laughs. 

"Peel back the layers for me, then."

"Well, she's a feminist, and she's sexually liberated," Judy pauses, and Jen can feel the instant shift in mood. The laughter dies in her throat, which is suddenly very dry. Judy continues, "As soon as I realized I'm attracted to men and women, it really opened me up in that way. And she was a good role model for me, you know, it's hard for women to know they can be sexual beings and not labeled a slut or something."

"Mmm hmmm," Jen nods, not really able to relate, as she unfortunately hadn't yet experienced her own liberation. She realizes she's holding her breath, waiting for Judy to speak again, senses it's going to be important. 

"Have you given much thought to your sexuality?"

Jen looks to her left, Judy's big eyes, inches away, staring at her. "No. I guess I always just thought I was straight."

Judy looks down at their clasped hands then back up at Jen, softly, "What do you think now?"

Jen gulps. There's really only one thing running through her brain, and there's no point in denying it; she's slightly terrified, but is also... thrilled. She can hear the tremble in her voice when she responds, "I think I want to kiss y-"

Judy doesn't let her finish, leaning in and pressing her lips softly against Jen's as soon as she knows it's what Jen wants. She's so perceptive, it's probably been clear to her since they first laid eyes on each other. What Jen feels from just the kiss is indescribable, like nothing she's ever experienced before. When Judy slowly pushes her tongue into Jen's mouth, something overtakes her, and she pushes Judy back onto the bed, settling her weight on top of her as they make out. 

After a few minutes, Jen pulls back, breathless. Judy's eyes are huge, lips swollen, she's fucking gorgeous, voice so sexy when she rasps, "Are you okay? Is this okay?"

"Yes," Jen responds instantly. And it is, so much more than okay, but she's nervous. Her body is humming and her mind is racing and her heart is pounding and it's all so much. 

Judy can tell. She gently puts her hand on the back of Jen's head, pulls it back down until their foreheads are touching, runs her fingers softly through her hair.  "We can stop," her voice is so gentle, and so close, it sends a shock right through Jen, "or I can put some music on if you want. Spice Girls, "2 Become 1", maybe."

Jen laughs, full-bodied, and all the nervous tension leaves her instantly as she wraps her arms around Judy and buries her face in her neck. They both shake as she keeps laughing, and it feels like joy is overflowing out of her. She's felt more joy in a few hours with this relative stranger than she has in years. She pulls back to meet Judy's glee-filled eyes. "No, Mel B is watching me, I think we have enough of a Spice Girls presence already."

Judy's smile, somehow, gets even wider. "That's fair. I wouldn't want the energy to be too overwhelming, you know, I can cover the poster if-"

"Judy?"

"Hmmm?"

"You can shut up now."

"Will do." And she takes that as a call to action, apparently, grabbing at the hem of Jen's shirt. Jen takes the hint, peeling it off, then unclasping her bra and throwing it to the side as well, not stopping to over-think. Judy licks her lips, breathes "Wow," as she flips Jen onto her back. Jen gasps in surprise when Judy's hands are instantly on her breasts, running her thumbs over her nipples, and Jen feels it like a shock everywhere, hips shooting up into Judy as she moans. 

Judy kisses her again, hard, while her hands continue to move all over her torso. Jen's head is spinning and there's not a single coherent thought in her mind, other than what comes out of her mouth when Judy moves to her neck, "Yesssssss." Judy trails a hand to the waistband of Jen's shorts where she pauses, and if she needs encouragement, Jen will give it to her. She reaches down to pull off her shorts and underwear, too turned on now to care about seeming needy. Judy touches her immediately, gasping when she feels how wet Jen is. 

Judy finds her clit with ease, and seems to know exactly how to touch her to make her totally lose her fucking mind. Nothing has ever felt so good, that is, until Judy takes her nipple into her mouth and bites gently. 

"Fuck, Judy," Jen groans, tangling her hands in Judy's soft hair. Judy looks up at her, grins wolfishly and moves her head lower.

"May I?"

"So polite."

"Always."

"Yes. Please."

Judy doesn't hesitate, and when Jen feels her warm breath on her, she grips the sheets, toes curling when Judy's tongue makes contact. Jen closes her eyes, sees stars, and when Judy slides her fingers inside her, the combination of that and her mouth have Jen coming after just a few thrusts. Her mouth opens in a silent scream as the pleasure courses through her. Judy doesn't move her fingers until Jen's walls stop clenching, and when she does, Jen groans at the loss of them. 

Jen feels better than she ever has in her life, she's pretty positive about that, and opens her eyes while she catches her breath to see Judy smiling down at her. She wants to return the favor, wants to make Judy feel like this, but is worried that she can't. Fuck it, all she can do is try. "Take off your shirt and lie down," she demands, and the smile falls off Judy's face.

"Yes ma'am." And she does. 

Now it's Jen's turn to explore Judy, and it's weird, touching another woman this way, but good weird, incredible weird, and when she circles her tongue around Judy's nipple, Judy gasping her name, she can't believe she's never done this before. She brings her hand down to cup Judy over her shorts, and Judy bucks into her. Quickly, then, Jen slides her hand underneath the fabric of Judy's underwear to feel that Judy is just as wet as she was, and she's rewarded with a strangled groan when she adds more pressure. 

Jen sits up to straddle Judy's legs, wants to watch her face as she touches her with both hands now, and it is definitely the right decision. It's breathtaking, seeing her reactions, she's so expressive, the way her muscles twitch as Jen rubs circles into her clit, pumps two fingers inside of her. She can feel it, when Judy is about to come, and Judy's scream is not silent. Luckily no roommates are home, Jen thinks as she slides off of Judy, lays at her side, wraps an arm around her and kisses her shoulder. "Wow. Wow wow wow," Judy is repeating, and Jen can't wipe the smile off her face, knowing she did that. 

They're quiet for a few moments, and Jen just stares at her, at this beautiful, strange person who instantly wormed her way into Jen's heart, who has taught her more about herself in two days than she'd learned in 21 years.

Judy grabs Jen's hand and kisses the back of it, then breaks the silence, "How do you feel?"

Jen smiles again. She's feeling so many things right now- an overwhelming combination of emotion she's not sure she can even put the right words to. She takes a deep breath to calm her racing heart, and she settles on one. 

"Proud."