Fell with you

Chapter eight

Armani slinked into her seat, her fingers wrapped tightly around the coffee cup nervously. Ripley sat across from her with her dark ears boring into her. It was disturbing, the way she watched her with those snake like eyes of hers without a word. The cafe they sat at was unfamiliar, a reasonably long distance from campus. Blaze wouldn’t be able to find her all the way out here.

“You haven’t tasted your drink yet,” Ripley muttered with a smirk. “I promise it’s not spiked.”

The thought had never crossed her mind but now, she glanced down at the drink in her hand before placing it on the table and pushing it away. She wasn’t going to risk that. Ripley snickered.

“I’m not that bad, Amy,” she chided, gesturing with her hand.

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked flatly. She wasn’t comfortable with the way Ripley had looked at her before asking her to come with her to this cafe. It was unnerving, the odd expression on her face that carried both amusement and a sense of worry. Almost like she was watching an interesting yet sad movie.

“You and Blaze,” she started, grabbing Armani’s drink and taking a long sip from it. “Are you guys dating?”

She opened her mouth to say yes when Ripley raised her hand.

“Officially, I mean.”

What did that mean? She stared at her for a long second when she finally realised something. Blaze had never officially asked her to date her. Armani just assumed that sleeping with her meant she was attracted and that meant they were dating now. She had asked Blaze about it but she might have just answered her like that because she didn’t want her to be upset. Did that mean that Blaze probably didn’t think they were actually dating and she was actually alone in this relationship of hers? Was Blaze just toying with her and trying to sleep with her? She withdrew into her chair, wishing she could sink into the soft cushions behind her.

“Don’t overthink it yet, honey,” Ripley broke through her daze with one of her usual unnerving smiles. “I’m not saying that she played you or anything. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t rush into anything until you’re sure of the plans she has for the two of you. It could hurt if you later found out she wasn’t that into you. You should talk it out with her first.”

Armani sat quietly, letting her words sink in. She was right. Sitting here and overthinking it won’t answer any questions. It wasn’t possible to just stop though.
Ripley leaned back on her own chair and pulled out a lollipop from her pocket, alternating between that and Armani’s coffee.

“Why are you telling me this?” Armani asked. There had to be reason she suddenly decided to have this conversation with her. It couldn’t have just been random.

Ripley pulled the candy from her lips with a loud pop and stared at the art on the ceiling before speaking. “Blaze is really attractive,” she started. “She has a lot of girls and boys lining up to be with her. She isn’t really much of team player though. She’s more of a hit and run kind of girl.” She propped her elbows on the table and grinned. “That’s why I was so surprised to see a girl like you with a girl like that.”

Armani frowned.

“Because of her…promiscuous or borderline whorish lifestyle, she ends up having a few flings trying to build a relationship with her. She can’t be bothered to clear that up though. She just dumps them in a ditch along with their flowers and hearts.”

She felt her own heart drop.

“But then again, she hasn’t been with anyone lately. She stopped dating around and hanging with the messy crowds so I figured that when she showed up with a completely normal girl who doesn’t smell like cigarettes and cheap perfume, she was finally going to take things easy. You can’t be sure when it’s a complete maniac like Blaze though. She’s as unpredictable as a cat playing a piano.”

Armani tilted her head at the comparison but made no remark.

“What I’m saying is,” Ripley continued, dropping her palms that help her chin up on the table, “I don’t want you to get your hopes up and end up hating Blaze. She’s my best friend, even though she’s one messed up fucker. So if you start to hate her and start some shit up, I want to feel completely valid if I gotta fight you. Only if you start something up though. You don’t seem like the type.”

“So what do you want me to do?” she asked warily.

“I’m not a rich CEO asking you to leave his kid or something,” she laughed, draping her arm on the back of her chair and leaning backward. “Just be careful, Blaze is-”

“Blaze is what?”

The air turned cold, freezing them both in place. Ripley turned back slowly, swallowing hard when her eyes locked on the dark glassy eyes behind her. Armani felt her blood drain from her body to her feet, a chilling feeling that made her hands tremble.

Blaze stood behind them, her hair messy as if she had run her hand through it in frustration multiple times. Her plaid jacket hung around her sides roughly and her shorts dangled right above her knees. She looked angry and her rage was mostly targeted at her best friend sinking into her chair.

“Blaze,” Ripley drawled out with a pleading smile. She rose to her feet, maneuvering the tiny space between the fuming lesbian and their table. “When did you get here?”

She glared at her. “Why are you with Armani?”

Ripley and Armani shared a look before she spoke. “We were just hanging out-”

“This far off campus?”

“The coffee here is really good. You should try it?”

“Does it have an ingredient that explains what the fuck you were telling Armani?”

Armani stood up too, her skirt catching at the end of the table. “I-”

Blaze’s eyes shot to her face and she choked on her words, grabbing the hem of her sleeves and looking down. Blaze was really angry. She sank.

“Armani,” she heard her call. “I’m not mad at you, okay?”

She nodded slowly. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.

Blaze sighed and held her hand, gesturing for her to come to her. She shuffled towards her without even glancing in Ripley’s direction.

“Next time you want to hang out with my girlfriend, just tell me,” she stressed with a tired expression, completely ignoring the way Ripley’s eyes widened and Armani’s hand in hers tightened. “Let’s go, Rami.”

•Author's note

I know a lot of you love the idea of special nicknames for couples so I served. You're welcome.

Sora.