Can I Go Where You Go?

Back at it again with stories! It's been two weeks of posting tags instead... Oops. If you like these short, cute stories, check out fangirl-of-letters  on AO3, she has the other half of our AUgust stories posted here.

I don't think I'm ready for college. Not ready for being social again after a blissful summer of pretending I wouldn't have to move out, driving around with iced-coffee and Abby. I'm not ready for all these people rushing around campus.

Abby's ready for college. She's bouncing on her toes now, wearing sneakers, having just gotten back from her morning run. Because yeah, of course she runs every morning, at fuck-o-clock when I'm still curled up in bed.

Abby's ready for anything. She's got her bag on her arm, her schedule in one hand and a map of the campus in the other, even though we moved into this close-walled but comfy dorm a week ago and she's already got the campus memorized. It's ridiculous how much I like this girl. It's nine.

I have my first class at nine and I'm so not ready. At least Abby will be there with me– it's her first class too. She's still waiting for me by the door, still bouncing, as I race against the clock to put on my make-up.

"You're not going to do anything with yourself before we go? We have twelve minutes," I tell her, because I'd feel better pushing time if she was also pushing time with me, but as it is, I feel like I'm holding us up.

"I have eyeliner on." She shrugs and comes over to stand by me. Her hair is short and loose, the curls tickling against my cheek as she kisses me, leaving lipstick on my cheek. "And lipstick in my bag."

"Abby!" I've finished my own make-up now, but there's the faint shape of her lips on the side of my face. I'm not going to my first college class with a kiss-mark on my face like some trashy movie cliché, no matter how much I like Abby. She doesn't understand– she looks good with anything. Wild, nerdy, sweet, sarcastic, anything goes on her. She's still achingly alluring. So easily likeable. I, on the other hand, have to cultivate my image, or I'll be the fat girl with the iced-coffee and the too-pretty girlfriend wearing the kiss on her cheek like a trophy. It's hard for a kiss on a cheek girl to be sarcastic. "God, really? Ten minutes, Abby. We have ten minutes."

She grabs my hand and squeezes it, laughing as I wipe at the mark on my cheek with my hand. She offers me a tissue. "Come on. It'll be fine."

"Easy for you to say that." I can't fucking focus. Abby's behind me, and wow she's the only person who will ever look this pretty after getting up and jumping right into a morning run, and I will stand by that statement like I stand by my status as a Potterhead. She has eyeliner and lipstick because she's the kind of person who doesn't even need mascara. I mean, what an unfairness. Who decided this was allowed.

She looks like a dream, but the realest dream I've ever seen. And three inches from my face. Her freckles are barely visible against her brown skin, just a touch darker. I only know they're there because I've spent God-knows-how-long staring at this girl.

My girlfriend.

I'm smiling at her like a fool now, which. I mean. Ugh, I've officially lost all control. I don't even want to go to class. I want to kiss her on her bed for the rest of the day. Lock the door. Do more than kissing, maybe, while everyone else is in class. Since I've only got eight minutes to get there anyway.

You go to class and learn shit. I stay indoors and have sex with Abby Suso. RIP but I'm different. I imagine it in Tumblr text. I die inside, on fire with want and also supreme embarrassment that I've even had a thought like that. I'm sure my face is flushed brighter than the sun.

"You're right," I babble, tearing my eyes from the curve of her breast in the tight top she's wearing in the mirror. And also in real life, but it's easier not want to drag her to bed if I think of her as wearing this in the mirror. Slightly more abstract. "We'll be late."

Abby laughs and lets me drag her out the door. "Okay," she says, "take me away."

Like a fucking cliché. And I love her. I giggle. "Oh God, this is it, isn't it? We're really in college, going to class, like, we're so boss." I feel giddy and out of it for a moment, that camera-flash moment when you realize it's real. The moment when you run after the girl crying and kiss her at prom because you realize this is what comes next.

"This is it!" She squeezes my hand. This is happy– holy shit happy. Holy shit, I'm so happy.

"Fuck," I blurt. I drop her hand and try to run without running.

"Leah?"

"I forgot my bag."

She just laughs. "Five minutes," she says, checking her watch. "We've got time."

"You would say that," I grumble when I come back out, my trusty bag once more on my arm. "You're a runner. What are you going to do? Run ahead?"

Abby shakes her head. "Of course not. I'm staying right next to you."

If you enjoyed this, consider checking out my other AUgust one-shots! They're all from different fandoms, though...

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