Hood Rats | Sandy Milkovich

The Cats Are in the Bag

Weak light streamed through the pale sheers covering the window and landed on the bed. Sandy glanced over at the early morning light creeping in with a sigh. She should've been content. The girl she felt most at home with was wrapped up in her arms and passed out on her chest, but it was what lurked under the surface. Sandy was nothing more than a good lay to Rory, she had made that much clear.

And it was fucking with her. Every time she thought Rory was warming up to her more and getting to the point where they were more than just having sex, something screwed it all up. With the whole Iggy thing, Sandy didn't think she could ever look at her the same.

On top of her, Rory shifted. Just two friends there for each other, Sandy reminded herself. It didn't matter how perfectly they fit together when they slept, or how Rory subconsciously reached to her every time a dream threw her into restlessness, because she didn't like her. Rory didn't like her so much, in fact, that she slept with her cousin like it was nothing.

It was almost impossible to keep her mouth shut when Iggy explained, no- practically bragged -about it. Sandy knew it wasn't her place to be mad. The other girl made it clear that what they had wasn't exclusive, but her cousin felt particularly targeting. Her blood boiled when Iggy described it, like it was nothing, just out in the open in the living room for the whole family to hear. Terry clapped him on the back, for fuck's sake. 

So, it didn't matter how Rory was acting now, because she didn't really care. It was all a show with that girl.

Beside them, Rory's phone started buzzing on the nightstand. She stirred, but didn't move, so Sandy picked it up to look at the screen and shut off her alarm. Who the fuck purposely gets up at five thirty on a Sunday?

"Hey, get up sleeping beauty."

She groaned and pressed her face into Sandy's chest. Those deep brown locks tangled around her head. God, she missed how Rory felt. Sandy couldn't help but wonder if her stab wound had healed up, or how she got the fading cut on her lip, that she wanted to trail her fingers over so badly. 

"Your alarm went off."

That made Rory's head shoot up. "Shit," she mumbled in a sleepy daze as she crawled off the girl. Sandy watched her stumble out of bed, trying to hide her smile. "I've got to take a shower. You can stay as long as you want."

For a few minutes after Rory left to the bathroom, Sandy just laid there. She laughed. Barely a month ago she was in this same spot on this bed, but so much had changed. She got up and decided she could find her discarded jeans later. 

Downstairs the house seemed abandoned, but she supposed everyone was still sleeping. The Torres's house always gave off the vibe of it being somewhere you could make yourself at home in. Someone was always sleeping over or letting themselves in, like now when their cousin was passed out on the couch. 

As Sandy passed him, his eyes fluttered open. "Morning."

She glanced back at him. He was pulling himself up from the cushions and rubbing his face groggily. "What was your name again?"

"I'm Joaquin." He extended a hand, but pulled back when she didn't move to shake it. He slowly took her in as he woke up. "And you're Rory's... ex girlfriend?"

Coming down in just her boxers and a t-shirt didn't exactly help her case. "No. I mean- not really." If Rory wasn't out to her cousin before, she was now. It probably didn't matter, Rory had always been more open. Sandy on the other hand- she wasn't sure if she could say that she was attracted to women out loud if someone put a gun to her head. 

"Not really, like you're still together, or not really like you never were?" He quirked a brow with a smirk ghosting his lips. If Sandy didn't know any better, she would've thought him and Rory were closer in relation.