Just For Me

Chapter 4 || Part: 1

Throughout the entire one month, three weeks, and four days (give or take), they'd been dating, Reagan had always been the one to tell Amy things first.

She told her about her family. Her absentee mom, workaholic dad, nasty bitch of a grandmother. Her brother who'd done two tours in Iraq and come back whole.

She told Amy about her dream of being a music producer. She'd always loved music and she could spend hours just rearranging and remixing the same song, getting the beat just right. Being a cater-waiter was a bill payer, she said, and the DJ'ing was like college, on-the-job training.

She told her about her old girlfriends. Two. Anna, the pointless fling that had made her realize she was gay. One kiss, she said, that was all it took.

Amy didn't need to say anything to that. The look on her face told Reagan all she needed to know.

And then there was Shelby. One year, four months, two weeks, six days. Reagan told Amy Shelby was her first love.

Even at the time - three weeks and two days into their relationship - Reagan already knew Shelby might have been her first love, but she was definitely not her last.

Reagan told Amy everything. Anything she asked and anything she didn't. And she didn't mind that Amy wasn't as… forthcoming. She didn't care that the younger girl doled out bits and pieces of her life one morsel at a time. For those first few weeks, Reagan waited on those morsels, greedily snatching them up when Amy shared.

Slowly, Amy opened up. She talked about Bruce and her mom, about how hard it had been to see another man come along, this time with a little blonde she-devil in tow. It had scared her, Amy said. It had been just her and her mom and now there was an insta-family sitting in her living room and she wasn't sure if she was supposed to love them or if she could even like them.

When Amy finally realized that she actually liked Lauren, Reagan was the first person she told. But only after she made her swear to never tell.

Amy told her about Shane. About how he had supported her through her confusion and her frighteningly bad epic failures at meeting girls. Reagan could tell it was important to Amy that she and Shane get along. The boy mattered to Amy, mattered in ways Amy couldn't quite put into words, but Reagan could hear it in her voice when she talked about him and see it in the way she giggled and smiled more whenever he was around.

And, eventually, Amy told her about Karma.

Or at least Reagan thought she did.

Amy told her about her weird, goofy, funny, altogether wonderful best friend. She told her how they'd met in a ball pit. About their Unicorn phase. About the time Karma beat up Scott Rooney for trying to kiss Amy during recess (ten-year-old Karma was quite the badass, Amy said).

She told Reagan about Karma's desire for Liam and about her own distaste for the boy. About how she didn't trust him because, let's face it, Hester's number one player wasn't just going to suddenly change his ways, right? Karma was another fuck to Liam, that and nothing else.

Amy was sure of that, she said. And she really wanted better for her friend. For her best friend.

And the way the light dimmed slightly behind Amy's eyes as she said it? Well, that told Reagan a lot too.

Even if she refused to hear it.

So, after five weeks together, Reagan thought Amy had told her everything. At least the basics. She knew there'd be more. There's always more. Reagan had seen enough good couples in her life to know that five or ten or twenty or one thousand weeks, it didn't matter. There was always more. More to discover, to learn, to be amazed by.