All The Pretty Girls
by Lizzy

 

 

Disclaimer: I own all the characters except for the ones that I don't.  So at last count that's none.  I own no characters.
Rating: G to PG-13-ish. 
Some language.
Feedback:  Yes please, dizzy198333@hotmail.com
Summary: An AU fic.  Jessie and Katie never met in highschool, but are now both at college in the same year, studying the same course. 
Author's note #1:  <Insert grovelling request for feedback here> 
Author's note #2:  Yes...I know this is incredibly predictable!  I was going for soap-opera-esque...so, honestly, the tacky-factor is entirely intentional!  :)   Also, sorry it's so short...there's more to come soon.


PART 19


"Mmm, Jessie," her name is on my lips and she is my first thought as I wake the following morning.  My eyes creep open, but I jam them shut as the acute pain of my hangover hits me with full force.  I feel her form beside me, warming the bed, our bare legs lightly entwined, and I roll towards her and bury my face in her hair, inhaling deeply.  And strangely, the pain in my head somewhat subsides.

I feel her stir, and she rolls towards me and wraps me in her arms, pressing our bodies together.  My eyes are still shut, but the pain in my head, thought still present, is diminished, so I venture to open my eyes so that I can look into her beautiful, sparkling...

...BROWN EYES!?!

I spring to the farthest edge of the bed, and she does the same on her side as we both clutch frantically for the same sheet to cover ourselves.  We end up tussling for a while until we both feel like we're adequately covered, while staying a sufficient distance from one another.

"Sarah!?"  I scream, "What the fuck are you doing in my bed?" I shout accusingly, "What the fuck are you doing?" I repeat exasperated and angry.

"I don't know!" she yells back with equal venom, "How should I know!?"

"Well you're the one that...you're the one...I...uh..." I struggle to rationalise the situation, since I am unable to remember most of the events of last night.

"I what?" she asks defensively, "You're the one that kissed me first!"

"I did what?!" I ask in scathing disbelief, "I wouldn't have kissed /you/!"

Sarah looks hurt for a fleeting moment, before her features harden once more.  I can't help but feel bad for the harshness of my comment, "I'm sorry...I..." I shrug my apology before remembering I'm mad at her, "but anyway...if you remember that I kissed you then you must remember last night!"

"I remember a little," she remarks sullenly.

"So you were sober enough to remember, and you just let this happen?!" I lash out again.

"Well it's not like I forced you to get that trashed!" she yells, "and besides, just because I can remember better doesn't mean I was any less drunk than you!  Maybe if you exercised some self control and didn't go getting drunk all the...."

"Oh!  So it's all my fault now, because going out was my suggestion!?"

"Well you're no less at fault than me...and like I said - you kissed me first."

"As if!" I spit, before I try to reach for my clothes without exposing myself.

Once adequately dressed I storm out of the bedroom, "Get dressed and get out," I yell over my shoulder.

I arrive in the lounge room and fling myself on the couch.  "Fuck!"  I scream in anguish and slam my eyes shut trying to remember.  How did this happen?

How could I have slept with Sarah?

How could I do this to Jessie?

Jessie!

Jessie was here last night!  I heard her voice, and we made up, and I kissed her...and then...and then we...

So why is Sarah in my bed?

I open my eyes and stare into space, I try and relax, and try to calm down...which is difficult with that little flashing light blinking right in my line of sight.  My answering machine.

I walk over and press the button.

"You have two new messages," the voice tells me, then a pause, then a sigh, "Hi Katherine, it's mom," another sigh, "I just called to see how you are, but you're not home.  So," then a pause, and another sigh, "How are you?  You never seem to have time to talk to me these days.  But that's okay, I'm used to it, your father's just the same.  He works so hard, but, you know, sometimes I'd like people to think about me for a change..."  her voice stops abruptly as I hit the 'next' button with great force.

"Shut up, Mom!" I yell at the phone.  I don't want to have to deal with her problems, which are always the same problems, right now.

"Second new message," the voice tells me, then a pause, then "Katie," my stomach tightens.  I know that voice, and the vulnerable melancholic tone is one that I've heard only once before.  Last night. 

Her voice cracks, and she continues, "Katie, I'm so sorry about earlier.  I wish we hadn't fought like that, and I'm sorry for what you saw, but you have yo believe me, /he/ kissed /me/!  Not the other way around.  I pushed him away, but you mustn't have seen that.  Please you have to forgive me, I'd never do anything to hurt you.  I could never be with Tad again, I don't want to be with anyone but you.  Because I love you.  So please, call me, we can work this out.  I'm so, so sorry." 

Oh. My. God.

Oh my God!

It was the answering machine?  I was declaring my love to the answering machine?  And to Sarah?

I realise then and there how stupid I am.  Stupid for making Jessie come with me to see Tad.  Stupid for accusing Jessie the way I did.  Stupid for getting drunk.  Stupid for mistaking a message for a real person.  Stupid for sleeping with Sarah.  Just plain stupid.

I realise that this is all my fault.  And I realise that it's going to be really hard to get out of this one.

Next