Actions

Work Header

blue. pink. white. pink. blue

Chapter 6: school year 3 - March

Chapter Text

 

 

Rachel

I love girls, I always have.
Even when I was a little girl myself.
Maybe even as a baby.
I was probably not breastfed, my bio mother was a drug addict. She couldn't help herself, it's a disease, today I know that. There is no cure, it is a life-long struggle that only the lucky and extremely strong can win.
That's gotta be why I love breasts so much.
For my sixteenth birthday I didn't want a car like all the other girls wanted one, I fucking wanted a boob job asap. But mom said no, no for now, I got a lot of money instead... that of course I was saving - for my boob job, lol... and ... well, LA later.

 

I love Chloe's breasts though. They are beautiful and milky white just like the rest of her skin, she has a really interesting skin tone. When I first applied make-up to her, I had to mix something for her, because I didn't have anything that looked like her at all. I already knew then, that she was not just one thing, but many things, mixed up, messed up even, but she was nothing that I couldn't find in myself too.

Chloe didn't even know she had breasts. But she does.
She just wore the wrong size clothes for years until I started taking her shopping and sewing my old clothes and old school costumes that were no longer needed, suiting for her.
Chloe was starting to feel better and looking sharper and I was starting to find her even cooler. Or more accurately, I found her fucking hot and hella attractive.
And I told her that, I showed her too.

For me, as for so many, it started with hair, I did my own hair of course, I hardly remember my birth mom but I remember the feel of her hair between my fingers, I do my mom's hair, I do my dad's hair, I dye Chloe's hair, but she likes to cut it herself, I just do the rest, I did cut Frank's hair just last week, he asked me to, his mom died and he wanted to pay her his respects. Just for one moment I thought, maybe I should go with him, a kind of road trip, but then I remembered the last time we had spent a little too much time together and the outcome of it and I didn't say anything and withdrew the idea.
I can still hear Pompidou's growl, when Frank made a grab for me, I didn't mean to make him angry, I didn't mean to get loud or aggressive, it just happened, he knew what he was getting into and that I am emotional and freak out and that I lash out and act out too, like other girls like me, especially teenagers.
We had talked about LA again and about how I was still in Arcadia and about how Chloe needed a job and I needed a job and somehow we got to my birth mom, who apparantly had contacted him a few times in the past and asked about me and told him about my dad who killed himself and then she left again and he didn't hear from her anymore. That was enough for me already but then he started talking about me, not being a kid anymore and me getting clients my age for him, which I declined, and me, trying to get off of stuff that wasn't good for my body and my mental health, and me, getting paid by him, if I was willing to do more things I don't want to elaborate on.

He then asked about my adoptive parents and I told him, that they were still supportive of my goals, and would financially help me, as long as I stayed out of trouble and away from people that cause trouble, people like him, people like Chloe.
He told me, to fuck my parents and if I were to do (non) said things, he'd support me and give me the money, I flatout said no, or my exact wording was:

"Between fifty-five and seventy thousand dollars Frankie, you don't have that much."
"You don't know what I've got, lioness."
"I do actually."

And that was a big mistake.
I had to cover up two big bruises and a black eye after that evening.
Do not be fooled, I am not scared, I got him back. He's not gonna touch me again, I am not scared of him (anymore).

Anyway, I developed an interest in makeup, colors and shapes, and experimented with it, almost as quickly as I did with fashion. God be my witness, I hella loooooove fashion. That, combined with my love for music, I've been playing the piano since I was six years ols and continue to do so, to this day, and I'm really into movie music and modeling, that's what attracted me to Blackwell in the first place and it was my mom, Rose, among others, who was so committed to the school expanding the art program and even bringing it more into focus. The Ambers have always donated a lot of money when it was useful for themselves.


Fashion sense and good make-up are great ways to get closer to girls. They confide in you because you make them pretty and when you're done with them, they are even a little prettier than before.
I listen, I give my opinion only when asked and I don't judge-ever! and that's why they trust me and love me.

I had a friend who occasionally visited me at home when my parents weren't around, there was nothing going on, he just liked it when I put my make-up on him, sometimes he would choose outfits for me, he is very sensitive and good looking, he knows what looks good on me or other girls too, he always liked my dresses and mini skirts, which I can't wear myself yet.
We would always go to my walk-in closet and choose something for him and something for me.
I dolled him up, let him wear my heels and took his pictures that I would only let him see and he would return the favor.

Except my parents and doctors of course, Nathan is actually the only person I've ever undressed in front of, at least down to the underwear.
Sometimes I wasn't sure whether he might wanted more and that I should have kept more distance from him, especially because Chloe distrusts and dislikes him so much, but I can and could always feel when people need me and that's why I wanted to stay friends with him and I'm not someone who just lets you down, or leaves you when you need a shoulder to cry on (or sleep with) even if I'll move away in the near future.
So no, I'm not afraid of him, never was, he would never hurt me like I would never betray him. We trust each other. This is how it works.

I don't know how much of this Chloe understands.
I can't see myself by his side at all, I never could. I have nothing against boys, not at all.
I like them, I like men, a lot. Especially when they are strong, I like their dominance, especially in direct competition, it's like a challenge. Debating with them is like stepping into a lion cage and defeating them, beating them fairly and honestly at something, gives me the absolute kick and drives me further, because what they don't know is that I love to win and I always win, because I am the lion that they are caged in with.

But yeah, I love girls, women, God, how I love them.
They can be hard but also soft, shy but also wild, open and honest but also sneaky and mean, women are challenging and often difficult to see through and that is what makes them so magical and fascinating.
You love them and you love to love them, if you don't love them, you want to be them and sometimes you hate them and you love that too, you love to hate them and they love you because you make them happy, or they hate you because they think they know something about you or because they want to be like you without knowing who you are and what you want in life and how hard you struggle to push through, but none of this prevents you from loving them, wanting to understand them, wanting them, wanting more of them. Sometimes more than they can give you or more than you dare to ask of them.

 

Girls are strong. The way they grab you, by your shirt, or your hair, how they demand you love them, or use them, or fuck them.
I just love it when you can be open with me like that. And just tell me what you want and how you want it. How you want to be touched and loved. But I also like to play before I eat. I like to figure things out.

Guys faces when they come, are just weird. Girls can make weird faces too, but I just laugh at that, it's so fascinating.

The way she closes her eyes, and her hair hanging from the bedside, her slightly opened mouth, the trembling legs, her soft moans or sometimes loud screams, how you hold hands after and jump from action to some bullshit to gush about or just stargaze and smoke at a junkyard. How she opens herself up to you over time and lets you in, literally in, more and more after you earn her trust and you think back on how it started, how she told you, that she's a little insecure and never did this with a girl before, and you told her how pretty she is and how you both would just go with the flow and let magic work the rest, how you asked her, how she did, when going solo, and she would take your hand and do what makes her happy.
And she would always get so quiet, that's when you know, she is about to ...
And it makes you happy, because you did this to her, no for her.

But what am I talking about? I don't know shit.
Chloe is the only girl I ever slept with.
Chloe is the only girl I've ever wanted to sleep with, celebrity crushes don't count.
But she didn't sleep with me. I wouldn't let her.
I would use her as my drug, get high on and of her and be really happy with her and then later, I would think back and then jerk off to her, quietly and ashamed and in the safe darkness of my huge closet at home, between my exactly 182 flat ironed flannel shirts, or in my dorm bed after the sun went down, face buried deep into the pillow, because Well's neck may be thick, but the walls in Blackwell girl's dorms are thin.
She couldn't take that anymore after some time and moved on and I understand. Because whatever else I am to her, I am a friend first and foremost and we will always stay friends, closer than ever, if not physical.

I would see her with assholes, I would see her with people who had disrespected her in the past or were talking smack behind her back or who were dumb, lazy, or simply disgusting- she didn't seem to mind and I didn't say anything, because she didn't ask for my opinion and I didn't judge her.
But I wanted so see her with someone better.
I just couldn't continue what I was doing, stepping in the same river twice. I wanted to see her with myself.
It hurts. But she never asked me, and I didn't feel entitled to it, if what she was doing was hurtful to me or if I was jealous and because she didn't ask, I didn't have to lie about it.

I once told Chloe, I think it was still May or early June, when we just got involved with each other, and used to being around each other, when we were talking about it, that you can have sex with many people and never get the hang of it. Or you can not ever have had sex at all, but read about it and learn through others and be very wise about, being a good friend and listener helps a lot here.

So yes, I like boys, I like girls, I love them and yes, I love Chloe and yes, despite that I am technically still a virgin.

 

 




 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chloe

 

There was a see-through little box in the kitchen that morning, I saw it when I got myself a strong black coffee.
A sticky note was attached to it. "Try, hella good"
I opened the box and there were fried pickles in it.
Hella no, I've had enough of pickles for the rest of my life. I don't want them in my mouth or anywhere else.
I closed the box again and looked around, since Rachel finally had a front door key, she only came through the window at night, if at all, I preferred to drive to her home when her parents were not there or to the campus when a security service employee was absent due to illness, but my favorite thing to do was chill out with her in our junkyard. Yes, it had become OUR junkyard by now.
I didn't care what others thought, if they got there at all. The only one who got lost in the middle of nowhere was Frank and we saw him less and less together, mostly I had to look for him when I wanted shit and then I met him alone and only for a few minutes.

She was standing in the living room by the door to the garage, a small mirror she had leaned against the ashtray on the dresser.
I had to grin because that ugly part was still in the house, just like me, was still in the house. For whatever reason. Eighteen years in this house.
Rachel was on the phone, I heard a female voice but could not assign it, she put on makeup while eating, looked somehow different than usual but I thought she might try something new again. Or it would be a surprise.

"No ... No, you won't. No way. You're gonna get expelled Kelly-Jean.
Because that's stupid. And racist ... of course it is.
I beg you Kelly-Jean, the clothes you sent on the photo look good, you can tell who it should be, that's enough.
What is that, anyway, what you smeared on your face Looks like shoe polish ... Good God Kelly !!!!
Why do you even go as Mrs. Grant? Go as Mister Jefferson, like everyone else ... because ... because ... because he's everyone's favorite teacher and it's a dress-like-your-favorite-teacher-thing, also everyone posted their picutres already or dmed me. There are a quadrillion Mister Jeffersons, including mine ... I will still need to fix the hair though ... of course I am the best looking one, well except him, but he isn't competing ... bitch no, that's a rumor ... why? ... no, I am not sleeping with him ... no ... because ... because you asked and I said no ... oh my God, now you're just being dumb , I already get straight A's, why would I suck his dick for better grades? ... yeah, see? ... apology accepted ... that's because you're an idiot, also why would I fuck my gay teacher ?. .. uh yeah, he is ... because he is ... of course he's gay, Kelly-Jean, have you SEEN the man? .. Really? ... Hmm ... so he's not gay? ... Oh, well then I'll totally consider it ... Oh my God NO, that was a joke, you know what, I don't have time for this, I am doing my make up, you are not, and I repeat , you are NOT going to do blackface, wash it off right now or I will bitchslap the hell out of you later ... yes I mean it ... okay, love you, bye, later.

I waited for Rachel to hang up and then "BOO YEAH".
She let out a little scream and winced pretty hard.
"You dumbass!" She laughed and threw her arms around me.
"A little more respect, you're talking to an adult."
"Tomorrow. You won't be an adult until after midnight and you still haven't told me what you want for your birthday."
"Nothing, can we just chill out?"
"Okay, I'll think of  something ... I won't drop by right after school, I'm working on a project, so it's going to get late evening. Is that okay?"
"Wow, I know I said I was an adult and all that but now you are asking my permission to stay out?"
"No. I'm telling you and I also want to make sure that you don't sit around here crying and twiddling your thumbs and staring at the ceiling or that you won't eat anything all day until I come back here."
"Who is Mister Jefferson?"
"What?"
"Oh nothing, you just talk so much and make yourself more important than you are."
Rachel laughed and called me a dumb twat.
I've been called something like that before, but it was meant differently.

"Can I borrow your phone?"
"Huh? You have yours in your hand, you just used it, bitch, what are you talking about? You're hella weird."
"I just want to look up something real quick, before I have to go, I used Nathan's phone last time, but there was so much weird stuff on it."
The least surprising thing ever. I handed Rachel the phone and she went on the internet and straight to a porn site.
"Hey, what the hell?"
"What? The site was recommended to me. And my parents trust me in certain things because I get good grades and never come home pregnant, but they check my cell phone and lap top."
"Why?"
"To make sure, I don't look up porn"

We laughed.

"You're crazy."
"Why do you think, I bought this phone for you?"
"Because you're selfish?"
"Hell yeah"
"What even... is that?"
"Artsy porn"
"What?"
"You know... it is porn, but art"
"Huh?"
"Well look, here, a guy sucking some girl's toes, but it's black and white and called 'revelations' and here, a dude enjoying a blowy by a beautiful lady and some other dude watching them, while holding... a dead fish I guess. I can't tell, the dark blue filter is strong here. Now I am confused, as to if I wanna fuck him, her, or him and the fish."

We both laughed hysterically.

"Can you zoom into this one, that's a nice ass"
"Uh, that's not an ass babe, that's some bald dude's head, there, you can see his ear."
"Oh shit! Okay, I'm done. This thing is haunted. Ban it"
"I gotta go anyways. See you later. Love you. Kiss"
I kissed her on the cheek.
"What the hell?"
"Huh?"
"I thought you like me."
"I do."
"That's how I kiss my grandmother... the one I don't like."
I wanted to say something silly back, instead I grabbed her, pushed her into a wall and kissed the fuck out of Rachel until her face turned red and she gasped for air.
"Okay, okay", she laughed and handed me back my phone. "Oh and by the way, last time I borrowed your phone, you didn't delete your browser history. That 'college girls compilation'... very nice, I enjoyed that just as much as you did.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!"
"Okay, see ya."
Rachel left and I stood there with my phone, gulping like a fish. That bitch. Maybe I should shove a fried pickle up her ass.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's been a hot minute since I've seen Steph.
After I stopped going to school, it was Rachel who kept in touch with her, I just stopped pretending to belong.
Steph had graduated by now and lived a life far from Arcadia, but we chatted every now and then, the last time we did, left me very confused.

In retrospect, it was a really stupid idea, but I just didn't know any better at the time.
I had helped mom in the diner, with my apron tied on and all that shit, and it wasn't even planned that I would serve anyone, who would let me go to other people with a clear conscience? But then at some point I had a pot of coffee in my hand and was re-filling Luke's cup when I heard Sebastian talk unabashedly about Rachel.
"... like a squirrel. And I was the tree."
"You're talking shit man." Luke snorted.
"You didn't fuck Rachel Amber."
"Hell yeah, I did, we did, last Tuesday, I went to her dorm room and asked her to let me in."
"And she did?"
"Oh yeas, she did. And I can tell you, she really is blonde", both of them laughed. And then screamed.  I didn't notice, that the hot coffee had run over the edge of the table and onto Luke's lap.

Mom refused to believe, it was an accident this time.
If I'm honest with myself, then I don't believe myself either. Not really.
Needless to say, this was the last day I was allowed to help out at the diner. Again I messed up something that was actually a good thing.

So I asked Steph later that day via chat. She didn't laugh at me.
She didn't roll her eyes and she wasn't annoyed by me.
She looked more concerned and asked me if I would believe these guys and not Rachel.
When I confessed to her, that I hadn't asked Rachel at all about this, she looked at me very strangely, but didn't go into it any further.
"Steph ... is Rachel uhm... is she... gay?"
She looked uncomfortable. "Shouldn't you really be asking Rachel that?"
I no longer knew what to think of what.
"Steph. I'm sorry, but I need to know. Why didn't you want to date Rachel, like why didn't you want to be with her? She was interested in you."
"Oh... well, uh... actually, I was initially interested in Rachel and then ... I was an idiot. I thought, I knew exactly what I wanted or rather what I didn't want and that's really how it was. I asked her on a date and she said yes, so we went and we got along, so I told her more about me and Rachel opened up to me as well, she told me what she thought she wanted... and I guess, I couldn't deal with it. I could have handled the situation better I think. Instead I backed out of it.
Today I would probably act differently, but it doesn't matter because that was a long time ago and we both moved on since. Back then, Rachel said, she wasn't ready yet to date seriously or be involved or anything like that really, and I was open and out there already. I got the sense though Chloe, that she is much more open and comfortable with you. Isn't she?"
"Hm."
"Like I'm surprised you asked me these things."
"Well, I thought maybe you knew something or maybe ..."
"Maybe I'm the reason? Maybe you have to ask me these things because it's my fault?"

I was silent, I just couldn't say anything about that, but Steph was right. I actually wondered why anyone would say NO to Rachel Amber, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

"Chloe, how much do you know about Rachel's childhood? Early childhood, I mean. Did she ever tell you how she used to live with her mom?"
"No, I don't think so. She doesn't remember her birth mother, she mostly talked about her adoptive parents, but now we don't really talk about parents anymore, it bothers us too much."
"I see."


Steph had sent me a letter. Old fashioned.
The week after this last conversation.
A brown envelope that David just threw at me, after getting the mail out of the box.
Three pictures, taken with an old camera.
The letter was a one liner: Chloe, please give these back to Dr. Rose Amber, I shouldn't have taken these in the first place. Thank you. -S.G.

What the hell? Why would she sent them to me then?

I decided to take a look.

The first picture showed a baby. Tiny little head, dressed up all blue, I turned it around. It said: Dylan, 1 day old - April 23
The second picture showed a cute little child with blonde curls on a bobby car that still had a bow wrapped around it, looking into the camera with big eyes with long lashes, a little coy and an elderly lady in the background smiling at the kiddo. I turned this one and it said: Dylan and Grandmother Rachel, Birthday - 2 years old - April 22
The last picture showed a little girl with long hair and glittery make up and an even more glittery fishtale, she was dressed up as a mermaid, I recognized her right away, but turned the picture around anyway. It said: Rachel, Birthday  - 5 years old - April 22.

She'd even been so cute, when she was that small, I remembered, how she told me, that she was named after her grandmother, who died, shortly after her third birthday and that she remembered her somehow, more than she remembered her birth mom. But maybe I was just too high in that moment, because I can't recall, she ever mentioned any  Dylan. 

 

I didn't see Rachel's parents, so I couldn't return the pics, but since I had hours to kill, I got them out again and looked at them again today.
And then something in my head clicked. The more I thought about it, the more sense I made of it.
It all made sense, but-... and Steph said nothing... and she said no... and... and the pictures... but why didn't she... just tell me... How could I've not known?
And then I got it, I felt like a complete idiot. And then I felt great.
For months now, I'd been worried, that something might be wrong with Rachel, that someone, something, might messed her up even more. But no.
I was just blind. And dumb. But no longer.


I looked at all the three pictures again. Yes. Now I could see it. Clearly.
I thought of the first time I saw Rachel in that gym, and how she stood there right in front of me, hiding behind that locker door and introducing herself to me.
I shook my head and laughed. - Then I called Steph to get confirmation, to be sure, because by know, it was clear to me, what had happened and that Steph knew and she wanted me to know, but she wanted me to figure it out myself. And I did. - I couldn't get through to Steph, it rang and rang, but she didn't answer it.
So I called Rachel- but her phone was transfered to mailbox, she was in class still.
I got up and walked through my room, I walked downstairs and upstairs again... I didn't know what to do and then I had an idea.

The people who moved in after the Summers left, right around the corner, had a baby party recently.
So I walked my ass over there and asked for leftovers. Not food this time.





 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rachel

 

An hour after I said, I'd be there, I finally actually got there.
The house was dark, i thought Chloe had left, but when I called her, she didn't answer.
There had also been a call on my mailbox, but she didn't leave a message, so I walked upstairs, calling for her name.
Her present for her birthday in my hands, I had thought about it long and hard and she would love it- I should say them- so MUCH.
I opened the door to her room, when I heard her in there and there she was, birthday girl in full glory, standing on her bed, hanging up some banner. No.
It was something else.
Blue. Pink. White. Pink. Blue.
It was a flag.

Chloe saw me and smiled.
She seemed to be very happy.

"Hey, happy Birthday Chlo - what's that?" I asked her.
"It's a pride flag. The transgender pride flag to be exact. I made it this afternoon, out of the baby party decoration from the neighbors." 

I stared at her. And since I didn't know what to say, I just asked half ironically "And you're trans?"

Chloe laughed and kept smiling at me.
She jumped off her bed and hugged me.

"No", she said then and her beautiful blue piercing eyes rested on mine, reassuring.
"No, I'm not, but... but my girlfriend is. And I want her to know, that I am cool with that."

 

 

 

art by the amazing Shep <3
thank you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

This story marks my 100th fiction on AO3.
Thank you guys so much for reading and following my works for years.

emcee and I elaborated on this idea a while ago, but then never got around to actually write it down.
So to end this year, this one is a shorter version for you. <3