I'll Follow (Lesbian) (GirlxGirl)

Meetings

I FINALLY MANAGE to meet up with Presley at the park. She's sweaty from cheer practice, and the breeze flutters at her short sleeves.
I sit down in the grass next to her and cling to the earth, wrapping strands of grass around my fingers. Maybe if I hold on tight enough, I won't get carried away?
"Hey.." She says, quietly. She won't meet my gaze. I'm so confused and conflicted and I don't understand her.
"Hi," I respond. I wait for her to speak before launching off into a spew of passion.
Nonchalantly, I set my fingers across hers and hold her hand. She tenses, but doesn't pull away. It feels so natural. Suddenly, she looks into my eyes. Big, brown voids seem to peer into me, to question me, to love me, and they're the last thing I see before she leans in and kisses me. I wrap my arms around her neck and pull her to the earth, gently grazing my leg against hers. Her tongue is artfully placed and each kiss feels like the sun is shining in an endless winter all over again. She pulls away for a minute, her hands on either side of my face.
"I'm straight," she whispers, firmly. I'm not sure if it's an objection or a proclamation.
"Okay," I say, waiting for an elaboration. All she does is contradict herself by pulling my face closer and continuing to send shivers throughout my body with each warm peck and each icy touch of her fingertips. I pull away this time.
"I'm not," I whisper at the same level as before. Her eyes are glassy, she doesn't reply for a long time, just stares at me.
"Okay," she finally says.
Somewhere in the middle of our next kiss, I develop the urge for more. I never thought I would be able to say that I was so horny that I would fuck someone in the middle of the park, but here I am.
I move so that I'm straddling her and begin to unbutton my shirt, never ending the kiss. She pushes me off and I return a victim to the earth.
"What the fuck are you doing?" She yells, wiping off her lips. I don't know what to say. I could swear she felt it too.
"I, uh, thought we were going to--" I begin.
"No. You might be a lesbian, but I sure as hell am not." She states, shaking her head. She begins to get up, dusting off her grass-stained clothes. She storms off back into the parking lot, leaving me flustered, horny, and embarrassed.

I was never much of a crier, but some things really tend to get to me. I'm at Jared's house, practically sitting in his lap and crying my ass off.
"Sam, honey, she's just scared." He says, rubbing my head in soft, slow circles. I bury my face in his t-shirt.
"She looked at me like I was a monster," I reply, sniffing hard. He pulls me tighter, I feel his abs rippling under my weight.
"Babe," he says, easing out from under me. "You just need a drink,"
"I don't like to drink when I'm sad I get weep--"
-- he stands up and brings over a bottle of something that smells like shit. Well, here comes alcoholism.
I wipe my eyes. The offer is appealing, but I really don't want to cry all over him. I watch as he pours us two alarmingly large glasses. It's rather endearing, actually. He sits back down beside me and offers me a glass. I take the cup and attempt to knock it back, sputtering. It really is gross. He laughs. I don't know how he can get that shit down so quickly.
Four later, and I'm gone. Presley's gone. It's me and Jared and my resounding gayness. I feel simultaneously amazing and like shit. I vow never to drink my problems away again when I realize I feel happier than I ever have before.