girl, you're like a weird vacation, 2/3, adam/kris
girl, you're like a weird vacation, 2/3
part one
Graduation flies by. Kris expects to be more affected by all the commotion surrounding the last few weeks of school and the ceremony, but she’s just kind of bored. And restless.
“You never liked it here,” is all Katy says. “Plus you’re jetting off to your glamorous girlfriend in California, so just shut up and let the rest of us saps cry a little.”
“Adam is not my girlfriend,” Kris replies, but Katy makes a face at her and rolls her eyes.
Kris spends the summer alternately freaking out about moving clear across the country and being so excited to just get there already that she can barely stand it.
Adam coaches her through it, reasonable and ridiculous as usual. “You just gotta jump in! Do a cannonball into the pool of life, Kris.”
“You,” Kris replies, “are a huge dork.”
Kris wheedles away the months with Katy, mostly, spending as much time together as possible before they part ways in the fall. Katy’s got a job lifeguarding at the pool, and Kris joins her most days, lounging on a towel next to the big lifeguard chair, sunbathing.
“It doesn’t even seem real,” Katy muses one afternoon. “Like that we’re actually going to be living in separate places. Like - miles away. It’s so - weird.”
Kris watches her rub suntan lotion into the skin of her shoulders, proud of the almost non-reaction she has to the borderline erotic sight. “I know,” she says, tapping her sunglasses up further on her nose. “It’s like you and Adam are switching places, almost. Adam’ll be the one in the same place with me, while you’ll be the one I’m texting and calling all the time.”
“You better,” Katy says, nudging Kris’s knee with one bare foot. “I guess it’s only fair, though. I did have years with you. Kinda Adam’s turn now.” She grins, tongue poking through her teeth and Kris waves her finger at her warningly.
“Do not make a dirty joke,” she says sternly. “You’ll ruin this touching friendship moment.” Katy giggles.
They get drunk for the first time together, too, in Katy’s basement, with a bottle of vodka she’d gotten from one of her brother’s friends.
“It’s preparation for college parties!” Katy announces, and hiccups.
Kris laughs at her, dizzy and floaty from the alcohol. “You are such a lightweight.”
“You’re one to talk!” Katy shoots back, and hiccups again. “Oh, fudge.”
It’s at one point during that night that Kris tells her - finally - about her ill-fated crush, a side effect of the vodka and maybe, if Kris is being honest, the fact that she’s moving away in three and a half weeks.
Katy’s eyes go wide in her face, her expression mirroring the one Kris had seen the afternoon she’d come out to her. “You - on me?“ she squeaks. “But - why?”
“Why?” Kris repeats. “I tell you that I had a crush on you and that’s your reaction?”
“I’m nothing special, though,” Katy says, and blushes. Kris feels a rush of love for her so powerful she almost wants to cry. Almost.
“You are my best friend,” Kris says honestly. “And you’re beautiful, come on. Don’t even try that on me, anyone would be lucky to be with you.”
Katy shrugs, smiling softly. “I guess.” She blinks. “Do you still - “
“No,” Kris cuts her off. “I mean - no. Not really. It’s just - it was part of the process, I think.” She swallows the last of the vodka quickly, the kick barely noticeable now. “It was almost like I was - testing it out, with you. What it would feel like, to like a girl, you know?”
Katy smiles. “Well, I’m honored then,” she says decisively. “And if I were gay, or if you were a guy, we’d totally be an awesome couple.”
“The best,” Kris agrees, and lets Katy hug her, laughing when she kisses Kris’s cheek messily, through the double curtain of their hair.
The pictures from that night are pretty epic, although Kris expressly forbids Katy from putting them on Facebook. She instead, sends the juiciest ones to Adam, who calls Kris while she looks through them, just so Kris can hear her make fun of her.
“Is that a Batman costume?” Adam asks incredulously, laughter lifting her voice.
“Katy has a bunch of old clothes and stuff in her basement,” Kris says haughtily. “So what. I look awesome in it.”
“This is amazing,” Adam replies emphatically. “What’s next, exactly, a - “ she cuts off abruptly, silence ringing over the line, and Kris pauses, confused.
“Adam?”
Adam clears her throat, and when she speaks again. “Yeah, sorry,” she says, sounding a little weird. “I uh, thought I heard something outside?”
“Oh,” Kris says, concerned. “Are you okay?” She blinks. “You live in a safe neighborhood, right? Like, there are no drug dealers or criminals living above you, are there?”
“Uh, nope, just drag queens,” Adam says, still sounding a little strange. “It was just the air conditioning kicking in.” She laughs, sounding a little strained. “Anyway. I’m jumpy.”
Kris lets it go, still a little taken aback. It isn’t until she makes Katy show her exactly which pictures she’d sent to Adam that she figures it out.
“Oh my God,“ Kris exclaims. “You sent her that one?“
Katy grins. “What? Like you thought I wouldn’t?”
It’s a photo of Kris, taken outside when she and Katy had gone out and run through the sprinklers to cool off. She’d been wearing shorts and this tiny white tank top, and soaking wet and plastered to her body, the outline of her breasts is clearly visible. She hadn’t even been wearing a bra, so her nipples show through the material too, of course.
“You look hot,” Katy says. “Objectively speaking.”
Kris’s cheeks burn hotly. “God,” she mutters, “I can’t believe you.”
“Lighten up,” Katy says. “You’ll thank me later.”
“Doubtful,” Kris shoots back, glaring.
A couple days before she’s set to leave, she’s sitting in the middle of a gigantic pile of clothes, freaking out over what to take and what to leave when Daniel pokes his head in, snorting at the mess.
“Dinner’s ready, spaz,” he says, and Kris rolls her eyes.
“In a minute,” she says, marveling at the number of belts she’s amassed over the years. She doesn’t even wear belts that often - like, what? When she looks up though, Daniel’s still standing in her doorway, looking uncharacteristically unsure. “I said I’d be down in a minute,” she repeats quizzically, and he starts.
“Yeah,” he says gruffly. “Listen, I just wanted to say that - you know. I’m proud of you.” He jerks his chin towards the mess in the room. “About moving and everything. It’s really cool.”
“Oh,” Kris says, surprised. “Thanks.”
“And if you wanted,” Daniel goes on, “maybe I could come visit, for spring break, or something?”
Kris’s expression softens into a pleased smile. “Yeah,” she says genuinely. “That’d be great.”
Daniel nods, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Okay,” he says. “And - that girl you’re dating? With the weird name? Maybe I could meet her.”
Kris blinks. “Adam?”
“Yeah,” Daniel says, with a nod.
Kris clamps down the urge to yell we’re not dating! at the top of her lungs, and instead just smiles again, not wanting to reject the gesture. “That’d be great,” she says, and Daniel smiles awkwardly, backing out of her room quickly.
“So FYI,” she tells Adam later that night, “my brother might think we’re dating.”
“What?” Adam says. “Why would he think that?” She says the words a little too quickly, something off in her tone, and Kris frowns.
“He told me he wanted to come visit me at UCLA, and that he wanted to meet my girlfriend ‘with the weird name.’ I didn’t want to like, ruin the moment. It was totally progress.”
“Oh,” Adam says, still sounding weird. “Oh, okay, that’s awesome, babe. Really! I’d love to meet him.”
Kris smiles weakly, still thrown off by the vibe that’s suddenly present between them. She tells herself not to worry about it, firmly. She’s got enough to be nervous about already.
The day of her departure, as her family waits in the driveway for her, Kris takes one last walk throughout her house, feeling a wrenching sadness. It’s not like she’ll never be back, but it won’t be the same, after this. It’s an odd, scary feeling.
As she’s shutting the front door behind her, her phone vibrates in her pocket, a text from Adam. T minus six hours! it reads, and Kris smiles. Now, it really feels permanent.
She cries a little when she hugs her family goodbye at the airport, and even more when Katy shows up unexpectedly, lifting her favorite necklace over her head and threading it around Kris’s neck, shushing her protests.
“It’s yours,” she says, voice thick with held back tears. “Because you’ll always be my best friend. No matter what.” Kris hugs her fiercely, holding onto the necklace all the way through the gate and onto the plane, rubbing it with her fingers like Katy always does as she watches through her window.
Her dad holds onto her hand the entire plane ride, turning his face away to try and hide when he starts to cry. Kris squeezes his hand every time this happens, feeling her heart lurch every time she catches sight of his kind, brave face.
Her first impression of LA is noise, and people. She emerges from the airport to a cloud of exhaust and smoke, and she coughs, trying to settle her pulse. Her dad manages to find a taxi and they make it to the campus in one piece, although the traffic is absolutely insane, and Kris feels a creeping dread for the day when she will be forced to get a car and drive through that mess herself.
By the time she’s all moved in to her dorm room, her father is a bit of a wreck, arranging and rearranging the things on her desk nervously. He hugs her for a long, long time, and Kris clutches on desperately, holding back tears herself.
“You call us anytime,” he says fiercely, running his big hands over her hair. “Any time. You get lonely, or sad, or in trouble - call us and we’ll jump on a plane within the hour.”
“Okay,” she mumbles into his shirt, nodding.
“I love you so much,” he says softly. “And I’m so proud of you. My little girl.” Kris can’t speak, it’s just too much.
She feels hollowed out once he leaves, needing to fly back to Arkansas right away to make an important meeting for work. She putters around her room, trying to keep busy and to keep her mind off her unfamiliar surroundings before she starts to freak out - setting up her computer, going over the orientation schedule, making her bed. Her roommate hasn’t arrived yet - her RA had told Kris that she was going to be moving in late, so Kris will have the room to herself the first night. Kris isn’t sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, honestly.
She finally remembers to plug in her phone, and as she turns it on, a barrage of texts pop up, all from Adam. Kris grins, heart lightening instantly at her name, almost incredulous that she hadn’t thought to text her before now.
Opening the latest one, from just a few minutes before, she laughs at Adam’s impatience. I’m gonna be mad if ur not dead and just ignoring me, it says, and Kris just hits ‘call.’
“Are you here?” Adam says, by way of greeting, and Kris smiles fiercely.
“Yes,” she says. “All moved in.”
“Stay right there,” Adam commands and hangs up. Kris blinks, pulling the phone away to stare at it incredulously.
Seriously? she texts, and gets some kind of emoticon back that she can’t decipher. She thinks it might be an angry face, but she’s not sure.
One of the girls who lives in the room across the hall comes by then, poking her head in Kris’s open door and asking sheepishly if Kris knows the name of the RA. She’s taller than Kris, with curly short red hair, and a friendly smile that puts Kris at ease instantly.
“I think it’s Lucy,” Kris supplies, and the girl smiles in relief.
“Oh good, okay,” she says. “God, I’m terrible with names. Why doesn’t anyone have name tags?“ Kris laughs.
They’re still chatting when Kris gets another text from Adam, asking her the name of her dorm. Kris texts the name back, grinning stupidly, heart jumping at the prospect of actually seeing Adam, in person. Her new friend - Suzanne, is her name - notices her excitement and asks if it’s her boyfriend she’s been texting.
“Oh no,” Kris says, surprised. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” Biting the inside of her cheek, she gathers her courage, remembering her assertion to be more confident, and says, “I’m actually gay, so - boyfriends aren’t really my thing, you know.”
Suzanne grins slowly. “Wow,” she says. “Good to know.” She sounds almost - seductive, and Kris’s jaw drops.
“Um,” she says. “Yeah.” Suzanne smiles mysteriously and changes the subject, leaving Kris reeling inwardly. Did she just get - flirted with?
They’re still talking, about the classes they’re signed up for, when a commotion at the other end of the hallway draws their attention. Kris hears Adam’s voice and breaks out into a huge smile, heart jumping up into her throat.
“Woo, baby,” she hears, and a flash of black hair and leather, and suddenly there’s Adam, in the flesh, grinning crazily, sunglasses pushed up on her head and a gigantic cup of iced coffee in her hand. “This place is a freaking prison ward! They almost didn’t let me in, like I’m a terrorist or something, jeez. Hello there,” she says, smirking as a couple of girls walk by, staring at her with wide eyes. “I’ll be here all week. Tip your waiters.”
“Adam,” Kris calls, overwhelmed. “Oh my God.”
Adam’s eyes zero in on her and she smiles delightedly, face lighting up. “Kristina Allen, as I live and breathe,” she calls boisterously. “Get the fuck over here, girl.”
Kris laughs, zooming over the few feet between them and throwing her arms around Adam’s neck, almost dizzy with giddiness. “You’re here,” she squeals, squeezing Adam tight, who squeezes back just as hard.
“You’re here,” Adam counters. Kris can smell her perfume, some kind of tangy spicy scent, and the faint smell of hairspray and makeup. She can feel the leather of Adam’s jacket, and her body heat through it, and when Adam speaks, her voice is familiar, but the vibration of it against Kris’s cheek is not, and it gives Kris a shivery thrill of excitement. “Let me look at you, oh my God.” She pulls back, holding Kris at arm’s length, smiling toothily as she looks Kris up and down. “You are even cuter in person,” she announces. “Holy shit. I can’t believe this. It’s so unreal.”
“I know,” Kris says, devouring Adam with her eyes. It almost doesn’t seem real, that Adam is there, standing in front of her. “You’re gorgeous,” she blurts, and blushes, covering her mouth. “I mean. I didn’t mean to say that. I mean you are, but I didn’t mean to say it.”
Adam giggles. “Thank you, baby,” she says, doing a little curtsey for Kris’s benefit. She’s wearing a leather bomber jacket, over a purple dress that clings to her legs and hips, and ridiculous high heeled boots. It’s the difference between seeing pictures of her on the computer and actually seeing it in person, and Kris finds herself almost breathless. They hadn’t done Adam justice, not even close. “You’re no slouch yourself, missy. Look at this hair!” she exclaims, running black-tipped fingers through Kris’s bangs, leaving a trial of shivers in her wake. “So beautiful.”
Kris blushes again, moving forward for another hug, squeezing Adam’s neck as tightly as she dares. She can feel the cold condensation of the coffee in Adam’s hand on her back and she shivers again, cataloguing every detail of the moment in her memory so she will remember forever.
“Oh!” she pulls away abruptly. “Sorry, uh.” She turns to Suzanne, standing a bit awkwardly at the doorway to Kris’s room. “This is Suzanne. Suzanne, this is my friend Adam. We got a little carried away,” she finishes sheepishly. “Suzanne lives, uh, right there,” Kris says to Adam, pointing to the room across from Kris’s. “My neighbor, I guess.”
Adam smiles pleasantly. “Hi there,” she greets amiably. “Sorry, didn’t mean to ignore you.” She throws a casual arm around Kris’s shoulders as she leans forward to shake Suzanne’s hand, and Kris feels shivery with excitement, leaning into her marginally, as much as she dares to.
“That’s okay,” Suzanne says, smiling back. “How do you guys know each other?”
“Old friends,” Adam says, squeezing Kris’s shoulder. “Long story.” She shares a grin with Kris, who grins back, still giddy with Adam’s mere presence.
“Ah,” Suzanne says. “So you live here - um, what was your name again?”
“Adam,” Adam supplies.
“Adam, right,” Suzanne says. “Isn’t that a guy’s name?”
“Yep,” Adam says, smile freezing in place for a second before loosening back up, chin tilted to the side. “To both questions. From San Diego originally, moved here a few months back. What about you?”
“Oh, I’m from Seattle,” Suzanne says.
“Cool,” Adam says, a little tightly, and the air turns abruptly awkward.
“Um,” Kris says, trying to get things back on track, “so you wanna see my room?”
“Hells yes,” Adam says enthusiastically. “I’ve never seen the inside of a dorm before - does it look like Joey Potter’s?”
Kris laughs. “Um, no. It definitely doesn’t.”
Suzanne smiles, a little awkwardly. “I’ll leave you guys to that, then,” she says. “I need to go buy my books anyway. But hey, Kris, I’ll catch you tomorrow for lunch, yeah? After the assembly thing?”
“Sure thing,” Kris agrees, laughing as Adam pulls her impatiently away, waving to Suzanne over her shoulder. “That was rude,” she chides, laughter cutting the tone in half as Adam slams the door shut behind them, tossing her purse on the ground and setting her melting coffee on the top of Kris’s mini-fridge.
“Couldn’t wait to do this again,” Adam says, and wraps her arms around Kris, burying her face in Kris’s hair. “I missed you,” she says, muffled. “Is that weird to say to someone you’ve never met in person?”
Kris laughs, snuggling into Adam’s embrace contentedly. “Maybe,” she says, squeezing back. “I won’t tell, though.”
Adam doesn’t reply, just squeezes Kris tighter. When she pulls away, her eyes are suspiciously bright. “I think you might be my best friend,” she says. “If you don’t mind me saying. And I’m really, really glad you’re here. You have no idea.” She laughs, wiping at her cheek impatiently. “Shit. I’m such a dork.”
Kris grabs her hand, “no, don’t, you’ll smear,” she says, reaching up with her thumb and carefully wiping at the moisture beneath Adam’s eyes, taking care to avoid smudging the dark eyeliner lining the lids.
Adam makes a tiny noise, almost like a squeak, and Kris catches her gaze, hand freezing in place.
She kind of feels like she can’t - breathe, almost, Adam’s hand squeezing hers, the skin of her cheek soft and silky beneath her fingers. Adam’s eyes widen fractionally, and she leans in towards Kris, making her breath hitch, before leaning back again, blinking and breaking the spell.
“Thanks,” she says, squeezing Kris’s hand one last time before dropping it. Taking a step back, she smiles brightly, “so this is what a real dorm room looks like, huh. I much prefer Joey Potter’s room. No offense.” She wrinkles her nose at the rickety lofted bed and the desk shoved beneath it.
Kris blinks, taking a deep breath to fortify herself, the spell falling away and leaving a vague sense of embarrassment in its place. “Yeah,” she says, a little sheepishly. “Glamorous, huh?”
“Glamorous is as glamorous does,” Adam says sagely, as if that makes sense at all. Then she turns on one sharp heel, grinning. “What are you doing today?”
“Nothing?” Kris says, uncertainly. “Today’s just move-in, orientation doesn’t start until tomorrow.”
“Fantastic,” Adam says, and makes a beeline for Kris’s closet. “Let’s change your clothes. I’m taking you out.”
Kris frowns as Adam starts going through her clothes, most of them still piled in her suitcase, left open on the floor of the small closet. “Out where?”
“Out everywhere!” Adam says, making a noise of triumph as she unearths a pale yellow sundress. “Ooh, this is perfect. Such a good color for you.” She tosses it in Kris’s direction, waving her hand impatiently. “Go on, we don’t have all day. Or do you want to go into the bathroom to change?” She raises one eyebrow teasingly.
It feels almost like a challenge, and Kris can’t turn it down. “Nope,” she says, and strips her shirt off boldly, tossing it aside. She feels a little thrill as Adam’s eyes widen in surprise before she turns away quickly, rummaging through the jewelry on Kris’s desk fixedly. Stepping out of her jeans too, she pulls the sundress over her head, all of the emotional turmoil from her father’s departure forgotten and a mix of confidence and excited happiness in its place. “So where exactly are you taking me?” she asks, smoothing her hair out, pulling Katy’s necklace from beneath the dress and laying it carefully on top of her chest, sitting neatly between her breasts.
“Well,” Adam says, turning around and holding out a pair of silver earrings, “I’ll take you to West Hollywood first, of course. That’s where I live, it’s awesome, you’ll die. And you can see my place, and then - who knows. Wear these.” She hands over the earrings with a smile. “Maybe we’ll go to the bar, you can meet Danielle and the others.”
“Bar?” Kris repeats uncertainly, struggling to slip her foot into her sandal while her hands are occupied with the earrings. “I’m still only eighteen, you know. Well - almost nineteen.”
Adam smirks. “You’re so cute,” she says, and Kris flushes, rolling her eyes. “It’s okay. This place doesn’t card, I know the owner.” She grins. “You didn’t think I’d let a little thing like you not being legal get in the way of partying together, did you?”
Kris huffs. “I never even entertained the possibility.”
Adam grins, reaching down and grabbing her bag, swinging it over her head. “You look wonderful,” she says warmly, reaching out and brushing Kris’s hair away from her cheek in a smooth motion. Kris smiles bashfully, straightening the dress nervously. “Ready?”
“I just need to get my purse - “
“Nope! No paying today, it’s your first day in LA!” Adam says. “After that, bets are off. But for today, I’m taking you out.” Adam slides her arm around Kris’s shoulders again, and Kris marvels at how the motion already seems natural.
“Well,” Kris replies, “in that case, can I get one of those before we go?” she asks, nodding at Adam’s mostly-melted coffee.
Adam laughs, tipping her head back and exposing her creamy throat, earrings jingling against her jaw. “Kris, darling,” she says, pulling Kris closer and grinning, “this is gonna be fun.”
--
Adam drives a Mustang. Kris stares at it in unadulterated shock.
“How in the hell could you afford this?” she asks, running a hand over the hood. It’s not in great shape, and it’s obviously an older model, and one of the headlights is broken, but it’s still a freaking Mustang, holy crap.
Adam grins proudly. “I know people,” she says. “Get in, baby, and hold on.”
She drives like a maniac, zooming around corners and pressing the pedal to the floor on the interstate. Kris laughs wildly, thrumming with adrenaline, even though she’s totally white-knuckling the handle at the same time.
They go to Adam’s apartment, and it’s even more surreal, somehow. Kris has seen most of it in the background of Adam’s pictures, and actually standing inside it is really, really weird.
Adam insists on doing her make up, and makes Kris hop up on the bathroom counter, nudging in between her thighs, and Kris has to hold her breath, resisting the urge to wrap her legs around Adam’s waist. It’s a special form of torture, but when she pulls away, turning Kris around to view herself in the mirror, the look on her face as she smiles at Kris is worth it.
“Gorgeous,” she proclaims, and Kris feels a strange little flutter in her chest.
She takes Kris around her neighborhood, introducing her to a couple of the people in her building - an old Russian man who pinches Kris’s cheeks, and his partner - a much, much younger man with bright blue streaks in his blonde hair. There’re also the dancers who live in the apartment above Adam’s (“music. All night long,” Adam whispers, rolling her eyes, “not that I blame them, but a girl’s gotta sleep sometime, you know?”) and the drag queens across the hall, who descend on Kris like she’s a new toy on Christmas morning.
“Kris, meet Bambi and Lola,” Adam says, laughing, “girls, this is Kris, remember I told you about her?”
The one who Kris thinks is Bambi grins sunnily, throwing an arm around Kris’s shoulders, squeezing them companionably. “Your pen pal?” she says, turning to Kris, “darling, tell me that Adam didn’t drag you here to be her arm candy.”
“No,” Kris says, “I dragged myself here to be her arm candy,” and all three of them burst into laughter.
“I like you,” Bambi announces decisively. “Adam, I like her.”
“I like her too,” Adam says sassily, “so give her back, bitch.” She and Bambi descend into a bickering match, and Kris watches, grinning.
Lola, whose name is also Robbie, makes some coffee, dragging Kris into the living room. Kris sits down on the overstuffed futon, sipping at her mug as she chats with him - her (“whichever, sweets, I’m not picky”) and still half-listening to Adam and Bambi’s boisterous conversation/argument in the entryway.
Lola finds out that Kris plays guitar and lights up in excitement, racing into one of the rooms in the back and emerging with a tiny acoustic, thrusting it out to Kris and demanding a performance. Kris takes it, giggling at the expression on her face, strumming it experimentally and wincing at the sound.
“When was the last time you tuned this?” she asks, reaching up and adjusting the G string.
Lola shrugs. “Nineteen ninety - seven?”
Kris raises an eyebrow. “So when you said you played too, you meant - ”
“I play-duh. Past tense. Hello.” Lola snaps her fingers impatiently. “Please to be playing me something, cutie pie.”
Kris laughs, picking up the guitar and wandering over to the small keyboard in the corner, using it to tune the strings by ear. By the time she’s happy with it, Adam and Bambi have filed in, sitting next to Lola on the couch, staring at Kris expectantly. “Uh,” Kris says.
“Oh my God,” Adam says, before Kris can go on, “how long have we been friends and I still haven’t heard you sing? Like, honestly, Kris.”
“I sent you that YouTube video,” Kris counters playfully.
“Oh, right, okay, she sent me a video of her playing the viola in a school concert when she was fourteen,” Adam fills in, rolling her eyes. “Not that it wasn’t adorable beyond all reason, but it doesn’t exactly count. It was like thirty seconds long!”
“Okay, okay,” Kris says, plopping down on the bench. “What should I play?”
“The Beatles,” and “Christina Aguilera,” are Lola and Bambi’s suggestions, and Kris wrinkles her nose, grinning.
Adam waves one hand grandly, “no, no, no, play one of your songs.”
“She writes?” Bambi says, surprised. “Oh, oh, yes. Play one of your songs, which you write yourself, apparently.”
“She wants to be a rock stah,” Adam says proudly, and Lola and Bambi nod in approval.
“I don’t know if they’re even all that good,” Kris argues, and all three of them stare at her incredulously. “Okay, fine. Sad or happy?”
“Happy!” Adam says boisterously, propping her chin in her hands and looking expectantly at Kris, eyes wide. “This is a happy day.”
Kris nods, takes a deep breath, and launches into a song she wrote the day she got accepted to UCLA, about new beginnings and taking chances, bouncy and fast-paced. By the second chorus, Adam is singing along softly, Lola humming harmony, and Kris smiles as she sings, hands dancing on the strings.
They make her keep going, overflowing with praise and cheesy applause at the end of each song, Adam and Lola even giving her suggestions on some of them. Adam sings along on almost every single one, and every time their eyes meet, Kris feels a little click, like a puzzle piece falling into place.
Bambi kicks them out after Kris wears out her repertoire of memorized songs, saying they have to get ready for work, which is apparently a drag revue at a club downtown. “21 and over only, baby,” Lola tells Kris apologetically. “The bouncers are pretty strict. But I’ll try to sneak you in sometime, don’t worry. You shouldn’t have to go without the singular experience of seeing Bambi’s act.”
“It is mind blowing,” Bambi agrees solemnly.
Kris grins, handing Lola her guitar back. “My mind is blown just by standing in your apartment,” she informs them, and they smile happily, giving her enthusiastic hugs and cheek kisses.
“I think they like you more than me,” Adam says mournfully, on their way back out of the building.
“Cuz they’re smart cookies,” Kris says, and hip checks her playfully. Adam throws one hand over her heart in mock indignation.
Adam takes her around to a couple of shops in the neighborhood after that, and buys her a pair of feathery earrings that are totally fabulous and it would be a crime were you not to have them, Kris protesting the whole time that she can pay her back. Adam waves her hand dismissively, sticking the package in her purse and vowing to force it upon Kris later, if she has to.
Adam gets a text halfway through a coffee break from her friend Danielle, who descends on the shop fifteen minutes later with a shrill yell, waving her arms crazily.
“Holy crap, it’s Kris,” she says, throwing her arms around Kris’s neck and squeezing tightly. “You have no idea what it’s like you meet you, seriously, Adam talks about you all the time. I feel like I’m meeting Elvis!”
Kris laughs, hugging back, raising an eyebrow at Adam over Danielle’s shoulder. Adam just shrugs sheepishly. “Thank you, thank you very much,” she says, in her best impression, and Danielle bursts out laughing.
“Oh, God, you are unreal,” she says, and plops down in the seat next to Kris, looping their arms together.
They order huge muffins that take up like, an entire plate and cut them into thirds, sharing them all between them, Kris stealing tiny bites of Adam’s portions when she isn’t looking. Danielle totally gives it away by giggling, though, and Adam retaliates by stealing a huge gulp of Kris’s coffee, regardless of Kris’s shrill warnings that she’s going to have an early heart attack from drinking so much damn caffeine.
Danielle and Adam have been friends forever, Kris already knows that, but watching them together is a little bit like watching Abbot and Costello. Or maybe - Ren and Stimpy is a better comparison. They riff off each other so naturally, causing Kris to collapse into fits of giggles every two minutes. She quickly learns to not take a drink when they get on a roll so as to avoid another choking incident.
They don’t make Kris feel excluded though, involving her in the conversation at every turn, even when it’s about things or people that Kris has no clue about. Kris hits it off with Danielle easily, chatting with her about school and her classes at UCLA while wrangling some embarrassing Adam stories out of her in the process.
“If you tell her the naked rosebush story I will never forgive you,“ Adam declares, and Kris perks up in interest.
“What’s the naked rosebush story?” she asks, and Danielle giggles insanely.
“She’s going to find out eventually,” she informs Adam, who just scowls, shaking her head.
“No, seriously, what’s the naked rosebush story?” Kris insists. “And who was naked, you or the rosebush?” Danielle snorts with laughter.
It’s dusk by the time they leave the coffee shop, the staff sending them occasional dirty looks for loitering so long. Danielle and Adam insist on taking Kris to a real dinner next, and they go to a fancy restaurant downtown, and Adam and Danielle spend the first twenty minutes pointing out all the celebrities out to Kris.
“Is that Zachary Levi?” Danielle asks, and Adam shakes her head.
“Nah, it’s his stunt double, I think,” Adam replies, and Kris blinks.
“Who’s Zachary Levi?” she asks.
Danielle laughs. “Oh my God, Kris,” she says, “you are unreal.“
“I still don’t know what that means,” Kris says, and Adam reaches over to rub her back.
“It means you’re adorable,” she informs her. “Now shut up and eat your octopus. It’s a delicacy.” Kris wrinkles her nose, studying the plate warily.
“So,” Danielle announces, as the waiter takes their plates away, “Kris, I have to say. I was not expecting you to be awesome, but you are. Awesome.”
Kris smiles. “Thank you,” she says graciously, and Adam’s mouth twitches. “I think.”
Danielle rises her wine glass, the red liquid twinkling in the candlelight from the table, “to Kris!” she calls jovially, “and to Adam. Only you would sign up for a pen pal program to build your freakin’ resume and get a hot chick in the bargain.” She grins saucily, draining the last of wine in her glass, stem tipping into the air.
Adam laughs, clinking her own wine glass against Kris’s glass of soda, rolling her eyes. “Nice, Dani,” she says.
Kris sips at her Coke, eyeing Adam over the rim. “She thinks I’m hot,” she stage whispers, as soon as Adam starts to drink, and watches in satisfaction as Adam chokes on wine and laughter. “Score,” she says, and across the table, Danielle laughs so loudly that Zachary Levi’s stunt double turns and gives her a dirty look.
--
The rest of the night passes in a blur of new faces and places, Adam dragging her along by the hand on a sort of Kris Allen, this is Adam Lambert’s life special. They end up at the bar that Adam had mentioned, tucked into a booth and surrounded by Adam’s “closest twenty friends, oh - sorry, Sasha, twenty-one” and Kris’s head spins, sipping on vodka screwdrivers and listening to Adam’s crazy cast of friends try and outdo each other with stories, all of them trying to impress Kris. It’s surreal and exciting and a little scary and totally, totally awesome.
Adam drives Kris back to her dorm sometime around two in the morning, pouting because she’d wanted to take Kris dancing, but Kris has orientation in the morning and she has to meet her advisor and like, be a college student and stuff, and there’s no way that her first impression is going to be a hungover one.
“I didn’t come to LA to be your arm candy, Adam,” Kris teases, and Adam huffs.
“College,” she says derisively, “is for losers.” Kris pokes her in the stomach and she doubles over in laughter. “Stop, stop, ticklish! I’m driving, this is LA, you don’t mess around with the driver, dude!”
She lets Kris go with a long, monster hug, rocking her back and forth goofily, pressing their cheeks together and scratching at the small of Kris’s back with her nails. She waits until Kris disappears into the dorm to drive away, and Kris races up to her room so she can watch the Mustang pull out of the parking lot, tires squealing madly.
She’s distracted all day throughout all the orientation activities, grinning madly to herself like a crazy person and glued to her phone, giggling to herself every time a text from Adam comes in. She’s fairly sure that she freaks out most of the people in her dorm floor meeting, and manages to miss three separate guys who walk up to her and attempt to initiate conversation.
“They were totally trying to flirt with you,” Suzanne tells her, as they meander around campus, trying to find the cafeteria. “And you were just like, what?“ She makes a ditzy face, and Kris rolls her eyes.
“I don’t look like that,” she protests, and jumps as her phone goes off, scrambling to get it out of her pocket.
Suzanne watches her with a tiny smirk. “Someone’s in love,” she teases, and Kris looks up at her sharply.
“Oh,” she replies, “no, no, we’re not - we’re just - “
“Friends?” Suzanne supplies, smiling. “Oookay, then.”
“We are,” Kris insists. “We are!”
“Oh hey, the cafeteria,” Suzanne says, feigning innocence. “Ooh, no line, even. Score.”
Kris meets her roommate, too, when she comes back to her room after lunch and finds a tiny redhead unpacking boxes in the middle of the floor. Her name is Kendra, she says, and she chatters along a mile a minute, barely letting Kris edge a word in.
“I’m a history major,” she informs Kris, tacking a Nickelback poster to the wall. “What about you?”
“Uh, music,” Kris supplies. “Is that - a Smurf?”
Kendra turns, nodding, holding up a tiny, stuffed Smurf. “I have a whole collection!” she says merrily, and Kris gulps.
“Great,” she says weakly, escaping to the common room before she gets too depressed.
She’d missed a call from Katy that morning while in one of the meetings, so she plops down on the couch and calls her back, tucking her feet beneath her knees and shivering under the powerful air conditioning.
“Kris!” Katy exclaims, when she picks up. “Holy crap. How are you? I’m overwhelmed. Just - totally gobsmacked.”
Kris laughs, feeling comforted by the familiar voice. “My mind has been blown,” she says, and Katy squeals in excitement.
“Tell me everything,“ she says.
Kris goes into as much detail as she can, talking about her day with Adam, getting side-tracked with stories about her crazy amazing friends, babbling a mile a minute.
“Wow,” Katy says, when Kris breaks for air, “you sound so giddy and happy right now. It’s a little weird.”
“Shut up,” Kris says. “I’m totally a happy person.”
“Well you are now,” Katy counters, laughing. “And is that because of Los Angeles, or Adam?”
Kris scoffs, chewing on her thumbnail. Against her ear, her phone beeps quietly, signaling another incoming text, the third since she’s been talking with Katy. It’s gotta be Adam, and Kris blushes.
“She’s awesome,” she says, “like, so much more awesome in person. It’s going to be so much fun, being her friend. Is that a weird thing to be excited about?”
“Of course not,” Katy says. “But Kris, all of that stuff you just told me about - meeting all of her friends, going shopping, out to dinner - it sounds more like a date.”
“What? No,” Kris says. “It wasn’t a date. If it was a date, I would know.”
“Oh really?” Katy asks skeptically.
“Okay,” Kris concedes, “well, Adam would’ve told me.”
“Oh r - “
“It wasn’t a date!” Kris exclaims exasperatedly.
“Whatever you say,” Katy replies innocently.
Later that night, lying in her bed, Kris tries to block out the faint sounds of Kendra’s iPod and thinks about what Katy had said, trying to work it out logically in her head. She’s not totally clueless, she knows she has a tiny crush on Adam - well, more like embarrassingly gigantic, okay - but it’s gotta just be the rush of meeting her in person, right? Like - it’ll fade, right, after Kris gets used to being around her?
The only thing is - the entire day she’d spent with Adam, meeting everyone and shopping and joking around, it’d felt almost like - she was taking a test, in a way. It was how Bambi and Lola and Danielle had sized her up a few times, when they didn’t think Kris was paying attention, throwing little smiles at Adam. And how Adam stuck close to Kris’s side the whole time, stepping in whenever the conversation stalled, arm practically glued to Kris’s shoulders. It had felt like Kris was - meeting the family, almost. And had been given an enthusiastic stamp of approval, no less.
But if Adam wanted it to be like that, wanted to date Kris, she would’ve said something, right? Kris thinks to all the conversations they’ve had about dating, and relationships, and over and over Adam had talked about how she’s almost always the first one to make a move, and how she doesn’t have any patience for mind games. So - it’s nothing. Kris just has to get over it, because Adam is her friend, the best friend she has in LA, and that’s more than enough awesome all in itself. So there.
Classes start the next day, and Kris gets swallowed up by the realities of actually being in college. As a music major she has lessons in addition to the regular schedule of classes and it takes her a couple weeks to get used to the workload, such a drastic change from the joke that high school was that it’s more of an adjustment than she’d been expecting.
Adam takes her out on the weekends to keep her from going completely crazy, taking Kris on adventures around the city, always a bright source of energy and happiness. Tarot readings, and concerts, and open mic nights that make Kris itch to get her own guitar and play, and tiny little shops and bizarre little events and finds in every corner of the city that Adam has an uncanny habit of hunting down.
And before Kris knows it, Adam’s friends are kind of her friends too - she goes out for coffee with Sasha on Thursday afternoons, who works really close to campus and always stops by on that day since she gets off early. Brad takes her shopping with him a few times, taking on the mission to spice up Kris’s wardrobe and she always returns with new outfits that she never would’ve been brave enough to buy herself had Brad not been right at her shoulder, urging her on. Lola is a fixture too, and Kris goes over to her apartment whenever she can to jam, helping her learn how to play the guitar again in exchange for keyboard lessons. Danielle and the two Allisons - “Allison-with-an-o or Alisan-with-an-a?” - and Cassidy and his roommate Barbie, Monte and his kick-ass wife, Joshua and Rahab (they count as two people, Kris learns) and Kris’s contact list just keeps expanding and expanding every day.
Kris finds a solid friend in Suzanne, too, and her roommate Kelsi, a super ditzy chick who kind of fulfills every blonde stereotype in existence. Kris would probably despise her if she wasn’t also the sweetest person in the world. There’s also Cale, a fellow music major who hits on Kris pretty constantly for a couple weeks before she puts him out of his misery and tells him she’s gay, out of pure irritation.
“Aw, damn,” is his reaction. “But if you were straight, you would totally have coffee with me, right?”
Kris rolls her eyes. “Sure, whatever,” she says, and he pumps his fist in triumph.
He’s a goofy guy, but sweet, and an awesome guitarist, and Kris takes him over to Lola’s one night to jam. He and Lola hit it off like crazy, and with Lola on keyboards and Kris and Cale on guitar, it almost sounds like a real band.
“We should totally do it,” Cale insists, “start a band, I mean. Why not? That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
Lola laughs. “I’ll leave that up to you two,” she says. “I’m too fabulous to be a rock star. You two though,” she wags one blue fingernail at them teasingly, “you’re both gonna be big.”
Cale preens, and Kris takes another sip of Lola’s special strawberry lemonade, and kind of believes it. (And that’s how Kris And Cale’s Unnamed Band is born, even though Cale really wants to call it Green Snow - because it’s ironic! - but Kris refuses to ever touch a guitar in his presence if he doesn’t come up with something better than that, so.)
There’s Kendra, too, sort of, maybe. Except for how she totally disapproves of basically, everyone Kris likes.
“It’s kind of funny?” Adam says one night, after they are driven down to the common room because of Kendra’s squirrel-like behavior around them. “Like, in a really abstract way?”
Kris groans. “She doesn’t even like Kelsi. How do you hate Kelsi? It’s like hating a kitten.”
Adam stretches out on the couch next to her, propping her feet in Kris’s lap with a content sigh, nudging at her until Kris concedes and starts massaging them. “Well, if she starts throwing bibles at you or something, you are totally welcome to move in with me. Oh holy God, that feels good.”
“You so take advantage of me,” Kris says, but Adam just moans, head tipped back against the couch, so mouth-wateringly hot that Kris doesn’t - really have room to talk, like, at all.
part three
part one
Graduation flies by. Kris expects to be more affected by all the commotion surrounding the last few weeks of school and the ceremony, but she’s just kind of bored. And restless.
“You never liked it here,” is all Katy says. “Plus you’re jetting off to your glamorous girlfriend in California, so just shut up and let the rest of us saps cry a little.”
“Adam is not my girlfriend,” Kris replies, but Katy makes a face at her and rolls her eyes.
Kris spends the summer alternately freaking out about moving clear across the country and being so excited to just get there already that she can barely stand it.
Adam coaches her through it, reasonable and ridiculous as usual. “You just gotta jump in! Do a cannonball into the pool of life, Kris.”
“You,” Kris replies, “are a huge dork.”
Kris wheedles away the months with Katy, mostly, spending as much time together as possible before they part ways in the fall. Katy’s got a job lifeguarding at the pool, and Kris joins her most days, lounging on a towel next to the big lifeguard chair, sunbathing.
“It doesn’t even seem real,” Katy muses one afternoon. “Like that we’re actually going to be living in separate places. Like - miles away. It’s so - weird.”
Kris watches her rub suntan lotion into the skin of her shoulders, proud of the almost non-reaction she has to the borderline erotic sight. “I know,” she says, tapping her sunglasses up further on her nose. “It’s like you and Adam are switching places, almost. Adam’ll be the one in the same place with me, while you’ll be the one I’m texting and calling all the time.”
“You better,” Katy says, nudging Kris’s knee with one bare foot. “I guess it’s only fair, though. I did have years with you. Kinda Adam’s turn now.” She grins, tongue poking through her teeth and Kris waves her finger at her warningly.
“Do not make a dirty joke,” she says sternly. “You’ll ruin this touching friendship moment.” Katy giggles.
They get drunk for the first time together, too, in Katy’s basement, with a bottle of vodka she’d gotten from one of her brother’s friends.
“It’s preparation for college parties!” Katy announces, and hiccups.
Kris laughs at her, dizzy and floaty from the alcohol. “You are such a lightweight.”
“You’re one to talk!” Katy shoots back, and hiccups again. “Oh, fudge.”
It’s at one point during that night that Kris tells her - finally - about her ill-fated crush, a side effect of the vodka and maybe, if Kris is being honest, the fact that she’s moving away in three and a half weeks.
Katy’s eyes go wide in her face, her expression mirroring the one Kris had seen the afternoon she’d come out to her. “You - on me?“ she squeaks. “But - why?”
“Why?” Kris repeats. “I tell you that I had a crush on you and that’s your reaction?”
“I’m nothing special, though,” Katy says, and blushes. Kris feels a rush of love for her so powerful she almost wants to cry. Almost.
“You are my best friend,” Kris says honestly. “And you’re beautiful, come on. Don’t even try that on me, anyone would be lucky to be with you.”
Katy shrugs, smiling softly. “I guess.” She blinks. “Do you still - “
“No,” Kris cuts her off. “I mean - no. Not really. It’s just - it was part of the process, I think.” She swallows the last of the vodka quickly, the kick barely noticeable now. “It was almost like I was - testing it out, with you. What it would feel like, to like a girl, you know?”
Katy smiles. “Well, I’m honored then,” she says decisively. “And if I were gay, or if you were a guy, we’d totally be an awesome couple.”
“The best,” Kris agrees, and lets Katy hug her, laughing when she kisses Kris’s cheek messily, through the double curtain of their hair.
The pictures from that night are pretty epic, although Kris expressly forbids Katy from putting them on Facebook. She instead, sends the juiciest ones to Adam, who calls Kris while she looks through them, just so Kris can hear her make fun of her.
“Is that a Batman costume?” Adam asks incredulously, laughter lifting her voice.
“Katy has a bunch of old clothes and stuff in her basement,” Kris says haughtily. “So what. I look awesome in it.”
“This is amazing,” Adam replies emphatically. “What’s next, exactly, a - “ she cuts off abruptly, silence ringing over the line, and Kris pauses, confused.
“Adam?”
Adam clears her throat, and when she speaks again. “Yeah, sorry,” she says, sounding a little weird. “I uh, thought I heard something outside?”
“Oh,” Kris says, concerned. “Are you okay?” She blinks. “You live in a safe neighborhood, right? Like, there are no drug dealers or criminals living above you, are there?”
“Uh, nope, just drag queens,” Adam says, still sounding a little strange. “It was just the air conditioning kicking in.” She laughs, sounding a little strained. “Anyway. I’m jumpy.”
Kris lets it go, still a little taken aback. It isn’t until she makes Katy show her exactly which pictures she’d sent to Adam that she figures it out.
“Oh my God,“ Kris exclaims. “You sent her that one?“
Katy grins. “What? Like you thought I wouldn’t?”
It’s a photo of Kris, taken outside when she and Katy had gone out and run through the sprinklers to cool off. She’d been wearing shorts and this tiny white tank top, and soaking wet and plastered to her body, the outline of her breasts is clearly visible. She hadn’t even been wearing a bra, so her nipples show through the material too, of course.
“You look hot,” Katy says. “Objectively speaking.”
Kris’s cheeks burn hotly. “God,” she mutters, “I can’t believe you.”
“Lighten up,” Katy says. “You’ll thank me later.”
“Doubtful,” Kris shoots back, glaring.
A couple days before she’s set to leave, she’s sitting in the middle of a gigantic pile of clothes, freaking out over what to take and what to leave when Daniel pokes his head in, snorting at the mess.
“Dinner’s ready, spaz,” he says, and Kris rolls her eyes.
“In a minute,” she says, marveling at the number of belts she’s amassed over the years. She doesn’t even wear belts that often - like, what? When she looks up though, Daniel’s still standing in her doorway, looking uncharacteristically unsure. “I said I’d be down in a minute,” she repeats quizzically, and he starts.
“Yeah,” he says gruffly. “Listen, I just wanted to say that - you know. I’m proud of you.” He jerks his chin towards the mess in the room. “About moving and everything. It’s really cool.”
“Oh,” Kris says, surprised. “Thanks.”
“And if you wanted,” Daniel goes on, “maybe I could come visit, for spring break, or something?”
Kris’s expression softens into a pleased smile. “Yeah,” she says genuinely. “That’d be great.”
Daniel nods, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Okay,” he says. “And - that girl you’re dating? With the weird name? Maybe I could meet her.”
Kris blinks. “Adam?”
“Yeah,” Daniel says, with a nod.
Kris clamps down the urge to yell we’re not dating! at the top of her lungs, and instead just smiles again, not wanting to reject the gesture. “That’d be great,” she says, and Daniel smiles awkwardly, backing out of her room quickly.
“So FYI,” she tells Adam later that night, “my brother might think we’re dating.”
“What?” Adam says. “Why would he think that?” She says the words a little too quickly, something off in her tone, and Kris frowns.
“He told me he wanted to come visit me at UCLA, and that he wanted to meet my girlfriend ‘with the weird name.’ I didn’t want to like, ruin the moment. It was totally progress.”
“Oh,” Adam says, still sounding weird. “Oh, okay, that’s awesome, babe. Really! I’d love to meet him.”
Kris smiles weakly, still thrown off by the vibe that’s suddenly present between them. She tells herself not to worry about it, firmly. She’s got enough to be nervous about already.
The day of her departure, as her family waits in the driveway for her, Kris takes one last walk throughout her house, feeling a wrenching sadness. It’s not like she’ll never be back, but it won’t be the same, after this. It’s an odd, scary feeling.
As she’s shutting the front door behind her, her phone vibrates in her pocket, a text from Adam. T minus six hours! it reads, and Kris smiles. Now, it really feels permanent.
She cries a little when she hugs her family goodbye at the airport, and even more when Katy shows up unexpectedly, lifting her favorite necklace over her head and threading it around Kris’s neck, shushing her protests.
“It’s yours,” she says, voice thick with held back tears. “Because you’ll always be my best friend. No matter what.” Kris hugs her fiercely, holding onto the necklace all the way through the gate and onto the plane, rubbing it with her fingers like Katy always does as she watches through her window.
Her dad holds onto her hand the entire plane ride, turning his face away to try and hide when he starts to cry. Kris squeezes his hand every time this happens, feeling her heart lurch every time she catches sight of his kind, brave face.
Her first impression of LA is noise, and people. She emerges from the airport to a cloud of exhaust and smoke, and she coughs, trying to settle her pulse. Her dad manages to find a taxi and they make it to the campus in one piece, although the traffic is absolutely insane, and Kris feels a creeping dread for the day when she will be forced to get a car and drive through that mess herself.
By the time she’s all moved in to her dorm room, her father is a bit of a wreck, arranging and rearranging the things on her desk nervously. He hugs her for a long, long time, and Kris clutches on desperately, holding back tears herself.
“You call us anytime,” he says fiercely, running his big hands over her hair. “Any time. You get lonely, or sad, or in trouble - call us and we’ll jump on a plane within the hour.”
“Okay,” she mumbles into his shirt, nodding.
“I love you so much,” he says softly. “And I’m so proud of you. My little girl.” Kris can’t speak, it’s just too much.
She feels hollowed out once he leaves, needing to fly back to Arkansas right away to make an important meeting for work. She putters around her room, trying to keep busy and to keep her mind off her unfamiliar surroundings before she starts to freak out - setting up her computer, going over the orientation schedule, making her bed. Her roommate hasn’t arrived yet - her RA had told Kris that she was going to be moving in late, so Kris will have the room to herself the first night. Kris isn’t sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, honestly.
She finally remembers to plug in her phone, and as she turns it on, a barrage of texts pop up, all from Adam. Kris grins, heart lightening instantly at her name, almost incredulous that she hadn’t thought to text her before now.
Opening the latest one, from just a few minutes before, she laughs at Adam’s impatience. I’m gonna be mad if ur not dead and just ignoring me, it says, and Kris just hits ‘call.’
“Are you here?” Adam says, by way of greeting, and Kris smiles fiercely.
“Yes,” she says. “All moved in.”
“Stay right there,” Adam commands and hangs up. Kris blinks, pulling the phone away to stare at it incredulously.
Seriously? she texts, and gets some kind of emoticon back that she can’t decipher. She thinks it might be an angry face, but she’s not sure.
One of the girls who lives in the room across the hall comes by then, poking her head in Kris’s open door and asking sheepishly if Kris knows the name of the RA. She’s taller than Kris, with curly short red hair, and a friendly smile that puts Kris at ease instantly.
“I think it’s Lucy,” Kris supplies, and the girl smiles in relief.
“Oh good, okay,” she says. “God, I’m terrible with names. Why doesn’t anyone have name tags?“ Kris laughs.
They’re still chatting when Kris gets another text from Adam, asking her the name of her dorm. Kris texts the name back, grinning stupidly, heart jumping at the prospect of actually seeing Adam, in person. Her new friend - Suzanne, is her name - notices her excitement and asks if it’s her boyfriend she’s been texting.
“Oh no,” Kris says, surprised. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” Biting the inside of her cheek, she gathers her courage, remembering her assertion to be more confident, and says, “I’m actually gay, so - boyfriends aren’t really my thing, you know.”
Suzanne grins slowly. “Wow,” she says. “Good to know.” She sounds almost - seductive, and Kris’s jaw drops.
“Um,” she says. “Yeah.” Suzanne smiles mysteriously and changes the subject, leaving Kris reeling inwardly. Did she just get - flirted with?
They’re still talking, about the classes they’re signed up for, when a commotion at the other end of the hallway draws their attention. Kris hears Adam’s voice and breaks out into a huge smile, heart jumping up into her throat.
“Woo, baby,” she hears, and a flash of black hair and leather, and suddenly there’s Adam, in the flesh, grinning crazily, sunglasses pushed up on her head and a gigantic cup of iced coffee in her hand. “This place is a freaking prison ward! They almost didn’t let me in, like I’m a terrorist or something, jeez. Hello there,” she says, smirking as a couple of girls walk by, staring at her with wide eyes. “I’ll be here all week. Tip your waiters.”
“Adam,” Kris calls, overwhelmed. “Oh my God.”
Adam’s eyes zero in on her and she smiles delightedly, face lighting up. “Kristina Allen, as I live and breathe,” she calls boisterously. “Get the fuck over here, girl.”
Kris laughs, zooming over the few feet between them and throwing her arms around Adam’s neck, almost dizzy with giddiness. “You’re here,” she squeals, squeezing Adam tight, who squeezes back just as hard.
“You’re here,” Adam counters. Kris can smell her perfume, some kind of tangy spicy scent, and the faint smell of hairspray and makeup. She can feel the leather of Adam’s jacket, and her body heat through it, and when Adam speaks, her voice is familiar, but the vibration of it against Kris’s cheek is not, and it gives Kris a shivery thrill of excitement. “Let me look at you, oh my God.” She pulls back, holding Kris at arm’s length, smiling toothily as she looks Kris up and down. “You are even cuter in person,” she announces. “Holy shit. I can’t believe this. It’s so unreal.”
“I know,” Kris says, devouring Adam with her eyes. It almost doesn’t seem real, that Adam is there, standing in front of her. “You’re gorgeous,” she blurts, and blushes, covering her mouth. “I mean. I didn’t mean to say that. I mean you are, but I didn’t mean to say it.”
Adam giggles. “Thank you, baby,” she says, doing a little curtsey for Kris’s benefit. She’s wearing a leather bomber jacket, over a purple dress that clings to her legs and hips, and ridiculous high heeled boots. It’s the difference between seeing pictures of her on the computer and actually seeing it in person, and Kris finds herself almost breathless. They hadn’t done Adam justice, not even close. “You’re no slouch yourself, missy. Look at this hair!” she exclaims, running black-tipped fingers through Kris’s bangs, leaving a trial of shivers in her wake. “So beautiful.”
Kris blushes again, moving forward for another hug, squeezing Adam’s neck as tightly as she dares. She can feel the cold condensation of the coffee in Adam’s hand on her back and she shivers again, cataloguing every detail of the moment in her memory so she will remember forever.
“Oh!” she pulls away abruptly. “Sorry, uh.” She turns to Suzanne, standing a bit awkwardly at the doorway to Kris’s room. “This is Suzanne. Suzanne, this is my friend Adam. We got a little carried away,” she finishes sheepishly. “Suzanne lives, uh, right there,” Kris says to Adam, pointing to the room across from Kris’s. “My neighbor, I guess.”
Adam smiles pleasantly. “Hi there,” she greets amiably. “Sorry, didn’t mean to ignore you.” She throws a casual arm around Kris’s shoulders as she leans forward to shake Suzanne’s hand, and Kris feels shivery with excitement, leaning into her marginally, as much as she dares to.
“That’s okay,” Suzanne says, smiling back. “How do you guys know each other?”
“Old friends,” Adam says, squeezing Kris’s shoulder. “Long story.” She shares a grin with Kris, who grins back, still giddy with Adam’s mere presence.
“Ah,” Suzanne says. “So you live here - um, what was your name again?”
“Adam,” Adam supplies.
“Adam, right,” Suzanne says. “Isn’t that a guy’s name?”
“Yep,” Adam says, smile freezing in place for a second before loosening back up, chin tilted to the side. “To both questions. From San Diego originally, moved here a few months back. What about you?”
“Oh, I’m from Seattle,” Suzanne says.
“Cool,” Adam says, a little tightly, and the air turns abruptly awkward.
“Um,” Kris says, trying to get things back on track, “so you wanna see my room?”
“Hells yes,” Adam says enthusiastically. “I’ve never seen the inside of a dorm before - does it look like Joey Potter’s?”
Kris laughs. “Um, no. It definitely doesn’t.”
Suzanne smiles, a little awkwardly. “I’ll leave you guys to that, then,” she says. “I need to go buy my books anyway. But hey, Kris, I’ll catch you tomorrow for lunch, yeah? After the assembly thing?”
“Sure thing,” Kris agrees, laughing as Adam pulls her impatiently away, waving to Suzanne over her shoulder. “That was rude,” she chides, laughter cutting the tone in half as Adam slams the door shut behind them, tossing her purse on the ground and setting her melting coffee on the top of Kris’s mini-fridge.
“Couldn’t wait to do this again,” Adam says, and wraps her arms around Kris, burying her face in Kris’s hair. “I missed you,” she says, muffled. “Is that weird to say to someone you’ve never met in person?”
Kris laughs, snuggling into Adam’s embrace contentedly. “Maybe,” she says, squeezing back. “I won’t tell, though.”
Adam doesn’t reply, just squeezes Kris tighter. When she pulls away, her eyes are suspiciously bright. “I think you might be my best friend,” she says. “If you don’t mind me saying. And I’m really, really glad you’re here. You have no idea.” She laughs, wiping at her cheek impatiently. “Shit. I’m such a dork.”
Kris grabs her hand, “no, don’t, you’ll smear,” she says, reaching up with her thumb and carefully wiping at the moisture beneath Adam’s eyes, taking care to avoid smudging the dark eyeliner lining the lids.
Adam makes a tiny noise, almost like a squeak, and Kris catches her gaze, hand freezing in place.
She kind of feels like she can’t - breathe, almost, Adam’s hand squeezing hers, the skin of her cheek soft and silky beneath her fingers. Adam’s eyes widen fractionally, and she leans in towards Kris, making her breath hitch, before leaning back again, blinking and breaking the spell.
“Thanks,” she says, squeezing Kris’s hand one last time before dropping it. Taking a step back, she smiles brightly, “so this is what a real dorm room looks like, huh. I much prefer Joey Potter’s room. No offense.” She wrinkles her nose at the rickety lofted bed and the desk shoved beneath it.
Kris blinks, taking a deep breath to fortify herself, the spell falling away and leaving a vague sense of embarrassment in its place. “Yeah,” she says, a little sheepishly. “Glamorous, huh?”
“Glamorous is as glamorous does,” Adam says sagely, as if that makes sense at all. Then she turns on one sharp heel, grinning. “What are you doing today?”
“Nothing?” Kris says, uncertainly. “Today’s just move-in, orientation doesn’t start until tomorrow.”
“Fantastic,” Adam says, and makes a beeline for Kris’s closet. “Let’s change your clothes. I’m taking you out.”
Kris frowns as Adam starts going through her clothes, most of them still piled in her suitcase, left open on the floor of the small closet. “Out where?”
“Out everywhere!” Adam says, making a noise of triumph as she unearths a pale yellow sundress. “Ooh, this is perfect. Such a good color for you.” She tosses it in Kris’s direction, waving her hand impatiently. “Go on, we don’t have all day. Or do you want to go into the bathroom to change?” She raises one eyebrow teasingly.
It feels almost like a challenge, and Kris can’t turn it down. “Nope,” she says, and strips her shirt off boldly, tossing it aside. She feels a little thrill as Adam’s eyes widen in surprise before she turns away quickly, rummaging through the jewelry on Kris’s desk fixedly. Stepping out of her jeans too, she pulls the sundress over her head, all of the emotional turmoil from her father’s departure forgotten and a mix of confidence and excited happiness in its place. “So where exactly are you taking me?” she asks, smoothing her hair out, pulling Katy’s necklace from beneath the dress and laying it carefully on top of her chest, sitting neatly between her breasts.
“Well,” Adam says, turning around and holding out a pair of silver earrings, “I’ll take you to West Hollywood first, of course. That’s where I live, it’s awesome, you’ll die. And you can see my place, and then - who knows. Wear these.” She hands over the earrings with a smile. “Maybe we’ll go to the bar, you can meet Danielle and the others.”
“Bar?” Kris repeats uncertainly, struggling to slip her foot into her sandal while her hands are occupied with the earrings. “I’m still only eighteen, you know. Well - almost nineteen.”
Adam smirks. “You’re so cute,” she says, and Kris flushes, rolling her eyes. “It’s okay. This place doesn’t card, I know the owner.” She grins. “You didn’t think I’d let a little thing like you not being legal get in the way of partying together, did you?”
Kris huffs. “I never even entertained the possibility.”
Adam grins, reaching down and grabbing her bag, swinging it over her head. “You look wonderful,” she says warmly, reaching out and brushing Kris’s hair away from her cheek in a smooth motion. Kris smiles bashfully, straightening the dress nervously. “Ready?”
“I just need to get my purse - “
“Nope! No paying today, it’s your first day in LA!” Adam says. “After that, bets are off. But for today, I’m taking you out.” Adam slides her arm around Kris’s shoulders again, and Kris marvels at how the motion already seems natural.
“Well,” Kris replies, “in that case, can I get one of those before we go?” she asks, nodding at Adam’s mostly-melted coffee.
Adam laughs, tipping her head back and exposing her creamy throat, earrings jingling against her jaw. “Kris, darling,” she says, pulling Kris closer and grinning, “this is gonna be fun.”
--
Adam drives a Mustang. Kris stares at it in unadulterated shock.
“How in the hell could you afford this?” she asks, running a hand over the hood. It’s not in great shape, and it’s obviously an older model, and one of the headlights is broken, but it’s still a freaking Mustang, holy crap.
Adam grins proudly. “I know people,” she says. “Get in, baby, and hold on.”
She drives like a maniac, zooming around corners and pressing the pedal to the floor on the interstate. Kris laughs wildly, thrumming with adrenaline, even though she’s totally white-knuckling the handle at the same time.
They go to Adam’s apartment, and it’s even more surreal, somehow. Kris has seen most of it in the background of Adam’s pictures, and actually standing inside it is really, really weird.
Adam insists on doing her make up, and makes Kris hop up on the bathroom counter, nudging in between her thighs, and Kris has to hold her breath, resisting the urge to wrap her legs around Adam’s waist. It’s a special form of torture, but when she pulls away, turning Kris around to view herself in the mirror, the look on her face as she smiles at Kris is worth it.
“Gorgeous,” she proclaims, and Kris feels a strange little flutter in her chest.
She takes Kris around her neighborhood, introducing her to a couple of the people in her building - an old Russian man who pinches Kris’s cheeks, and his partner - a much, much younger man with bright blue streaks in his blonde hair. There’re also the dancers who live in the apartment above Adam’s (“music. All night long,” Adam whispers, rolling her eyes, “not that I blame them, but a girl’s gotta sleep sometime, you know?”) and the drag queens across the hall, who descend on Kris like she’s a new toy on Christmas morning.
“Kris, meet Bambi and Lola,” Adam says, laughing, “girls, this is Kris, remember I told you about her?”
The one who Kris thinks is Bambi grins sunnily, throwing an arm around Kris’s shoulders, squeezing them companionably. “Your pen pal?” she says, turning to Kris, “darling, tell me that Adam didn’t drag you here to be her arm candy.”
“No,” Kris says, “I dragged myself here to be her arm candy,” and all three of them burst into laughter.
“I like you,” Bambi announces decisively. “Adam, I like her.”
“I like her too,” Adam says sassily, “so give her back, bitch.” She and Bambi descend into a bickering match, and Kris watches, grinning.
Lola, whose name is also Robbie, makes some coffee, dragging Kris into the living room. Kris sits down on the overstuffed futon, sipping at her mug as she chats with him - her (“whichever, sweets, I’m not picky”) and still half-listening to Adam and Bambi’s boisterous conversation/argument in the entryway.
Lola finds out that Kris plays guitar and lights up in excitement, racing into one of the rooms in the back and emerging with a tiny acoustic, thrusting it out to Kris and demanding a performance. Kris takes it, giggling at the expression on her face, strumming it experimentally and wincing at the sound.
“When was the last time you tuned this?” she asks, reaching up and adjusting the G string.
Lola shrugs. “Nineteen ninety - seven?”
Kris raises an eyebrow. “So when you said you played too, you meant - ”
“I play-duh. Past tense. Hello.” Lola snaps her fingers impatiently. “Please to be playing me something, cutie pie.”
Kris laughs, picking up the guitar and wandering over to the small keyboard in the corner, using it to tune the strings by ear. By the time she’s happy with it, Adam and Bambi have filed in, sitting next to Lola on the couch, staring at Kris expectantly. “Uh,” Kris says.
“Oh my God,” Adam says, before Kris can go on, “how long have we been friends and I still haven’t heard you sing? Like, honestly, Kris.”
“I sent you that YouTube video,” Kris counters playfully.
“Oh, right, okay, she sent me a video of her playing the viola in a school concert when she was fourteen,” Adam fills in, rolling her eyes. “Not that it wasn’t adorable beyond all reason, but it doesn’t exactly count. It was like thirty seconds long!”
“Okay, okay,” Kris says, plopping down on the bench. “What should I play?”
“The Beatles,” and “Christina Aguilera,” are Lola and Bambi’s suggestions, and Kris wrinkles her nose, grinning.
Adam waves one hand grandly, “no, no, no, play one of your songs.”
“She writes?” Bambi says, surprised. “Oh, oh, yes. Play one of your songs, which you write yourself, apparently.”
“She wants to be a rock stah,” Adam says proudly, and Lola and Bambi nod in approval.
“I don’t know if they’re even all that good,” Kris argues, and all three of them stare at her incredulously. “Okay, fine. Sad or happy?”
“Happy!” Adam says boisterously, propping her chin in her hands and looking expectantly at Kris, eyes wide. “This is a happy day.”
Kris nods, takes a deep breath, and launches into a song she wrote the day she got accepted to UCLA, about new beginnings and taking chances, bouncy and fast-paced. By the second chorus, Adam is singing along softly, Lola humming harmony, and Kris smiles as she sings, hands dancing on the strings.
They make her keep going, overflowing with praise and cheesy applause at the end of each song, Adam and Lola even giving her suggestions on some of them. Adam sings along on almost every single one, and every time their eyes meet, Kris feels a little click, like a puzzle piece falling into place.
Bambi kicks them out after Kris wears out her repertoire of memorized songs, saying they have to get ready for work, which is apparently a drag revue at a club downtown. “21 and over only, baby,” Lola tells Kris apologetically. “The bouncers are pretty strict. But I’ll try to sneak you in sometime, don’t worry. You shouldn’t have to go without the singular experience of seeing Bambi’s act.”
“It is mind blowing,” Bambi agrees solemnly.
Kris grins, handing Lola her guitar back. “My mind is blown just by standing in your apartment,” she informs them, and they smile happily, giving her enthusiastic hugs and cheek kisses.
“I think they like you more than me,” Adam says mournfully, on their way back out of the building.
“Cuz they’re smart cookies,” Kris says, and hip checks her playfully. Adam throws one hand over her heart in mock indignation.
Adam takes her around to a couple of shops in the neighborhood after that, and buys her a pair of feathery earrings that are totally fabulous and it would be a crime were you not to have them, Kris protesting the whole time that she can pay her back. Adam waves her hand dismissively, sticking the package in her purse and vowing to force it upon Kris later, if she has to.
Adam gets a text halfway through a coffee break from her friend Danielle, who descends on the shop fifteen minutes later with a shrill yell, waving her arms crazily.
“Holy crap, it’s Kris,” she says, throwing her arms around Kris’s neck and squeezing tightly. “You have no idea what it’s like you meet you, seriously, Adam talks about you all the time. I feel like I’m meeting Elvis!”
Kris laughs, hugging back, raising an eyebrow at Adam over Danielle’s shoulder. Adam just shrugs sheepishly. “Thank you, thank you very much,” she says, in her best impression, and Danielle bursts out laughing.
“Oh, God, you are unreal,” she says, and plops down in the seat next to Kris, looping their arms together.
They order huge muffins that take up like, an entire plate and cut them into thirds, sharing them all between them, Kris stealing tiny bites of Adam’s portions when she isn’t looking. Danielle totally gives it away by giggling, though, and Adam retaliates by stealing a huge gulp of Kris’s coffee, regardless of Kris’s shrill warnings that she’s going to have an early heart attack from drinking so much damn caffeine.
Danielle and Adam have been friends forever, Kris already knows that, but watching them together is a little bit like watching Abbot and Costello. Or maybe - Ren and Stimpy is a better comparison. They riff off each other so naturally, causing Kris to collapse into fits of giggles every two minutes. She quickly learns to not take a drink when they get on a roll so as to avoid another choking incident.
They don’t make Kris feel excluded though, involving her in the conversation at every turn, even when it’s about things or people that Kris has no clue about. Kris hits it off with Danielle easily, chatting with her about school and her classes at UCLA while wrangling some embarrassing Adam stories out of her in the process.
“If you tell her the naked rosebush story I will never forgive you,“ Adam declares, and Kris perks up in interest.
“What’s the naked rosebush story?” she asks, and Danielle giggles insanely.
“She’s going to find out eventually,” she informs Adam, who just scowls, shaking her head.
“No, seriously, what’s the naked rosebush story?” Kris insists. “And who was naked, you or the rosebush?” Danielle snorts with laughter.
It’s dusk by the time they leave the coffee shop, the staff sending them occasional dirty looks for loitering so long. Danielle and Adam insist on taking Kris to a real dinner next, and they go to a fancy restaurant downtown, and Adam and Danielle spend the first twenty minutes pointing out all the celebrities out to Kris.
“Is that Zachary Levi?” Danielle asks, and Adam shakes her head.
“Nah, it’s his stunt double, I think,” Adam replies, and Kris blinks.
“Who’s Zachary Levi?” she asks.
Danielle laughs. “Oh my God, Kris,” she says, “you are unreal.“
“I still don’t know what that means,” Kris says, and Adam reaches over to rub her back.
“It means you’re adorable,” she informs her. “Now shut up and eat your octopus. It’s a delicacy.” Kris wrinkles her nose, studying the plate warily.
“So,” Danielle announces, as the waiter takes their plates away, “Kris, I have to say. I was not expecting you to be awesome, but you are. Awesome.”
Kris smiles. “Thank you,” she says graciously, and Adam’s mouth twitches. “I think.”
Danielle rises her wine glass, the red liquid twinkling in the candlelight from the table, “to Kris!” she calls jovially, “and to Adam. Only you would sign up for a pen pal program to build your freakin’ resume and get a hot chick in the bargain.” She grins saucily, draining the last of wine in her glass, stem tipping into the air.
Adam laughs, clinking her own wine glass against Kris’s glass of soda, rolling her eyes. “Nice, Dani,” she says.
Kris sips at her Coke, eyeing Adam over the rim. “She thinks I’m hot,” she stage whispers, as soon as Adam starts to drink, and watches in satisfaction as Adam chokes on wine and laughter. “Score,” she says, and across the table, Danielle laughs so loudly that Zachary Levi’s stunt double turns and gives her a dirty look.
--
The rest of the night passes in a blur of new faces and places, Adam dragging her along by the hand on a sort of Kris Allen, this is Adam Lambert’s life special. They end up at the bar that Adam had mentioned, tucked into a booth and surrounded by Adam’s “closest twenty friends, oh - sorry, Sasha, twenty-one” and Kris’s head spins, sipping on vodka screwdrivers and listening to Adam’s crazy cast of friends try and outdo each other with stories, all of them trying to impress Kris. It’s surreal and exciting and a little scary and totally, totally awesome.
Adam drives Kris back to her dorm sometime around two in the morning, pouting because she’d wanted to take Kris dancing, but Kris has orientation in the morning and she has to meet her advisor and like, be a college student and stuff, and there’s no way that her first impression is going to be a hungover one.
“I didn’t come to LA to be your arm candy, Adam,” Kris teases, and Adam huffs.
“College,” she says derisively, “is for losers.” Kris pokes her in the stomach and she doubles over in laughter. “Stop, stop, ticklish! I’m driving, this is LA, you don’t mess around with the driver, dude!”
She lets Kris go with a long, monster hug, rocking her back and forth goofily, pressing their cheeks together and scratching at the small of Kris’s back with her nails. She waits until Kris disappears into the dorm to drive away, and Kris races up to her room so she can watch the Mustang pull out of the parking lot, tires squealing madly.
She’s distracted all day throughout all the orientation activities, grinning madly to herself like a crazy person and glued to her phone, giggling to herself every time a text from Adam comes in. She’s fairly sure that she freaks out most of the people in her dorm floor meeting, and manages to miss three separate guys who walk up to her and attempt to initiate conversation.
“They were totally trying to flirt with you,” Suzanne tells her, as they meander around campus, trying to find the cafeteria. “And you were just like, what?“ She makes a ditzy face, and Kris rolls her eyes.
“I don’t look like that,” she protests, and jumps as her phone goes off, scrambling to get it out of her pocket.
Suzanne watches her with a tiny smirk. “Someone’s in love,” she teases, and Kris looks up at her sharply.
“Oh,” she replies, “no, no, we’re not - we’re just - “
“Friends?” Suzanne supplies, smiling. “Oookay, then.”
“We are,” Kris insists. “We are!”
“Oh hey, the cafeteria,” Suzanne says, feigning innocence. “Ooh, no line, even. Score.”
Kris meets her roommate, too, when she comes back to her room after lunch and finds a tiny redhead unpacking boxes in the middle of the floor. Her name is Kendra, she says, and she chatters along a mile a minute, barely letting Kris edge a word in.
“I’m a history major,” she informs Kris, tacking a Nickelback poster to the wall. “What about you?”
“Uh, music,” Kris supplies. “Is that - a Smurf?”
Kendra turns, nodding, holding up a tiny, stuffed Smurf. “I have a whole collection!” she says merrily, and Kris gulps.
“Great,” she says weakly, escaping to the common room before she gets too depressed.
She’d missed a call from Katy that morning while in one of the meetings, so she plops down on the couch and calls her back, tucking her feet beneath her knees and shivering under the powerful air conditioning.
“Kris!” Katy exclaims, when she picks up. “Holy crap. How are you? I’m overwhelmed. Just - totally gobsmacked.”
Kris laughs, feeling comforted by the familiar voice. “My mind has been blown,” she says, and Katy squeals in excitement.
“Tell me everything,“ she says.
Kris goes into as much detail as she can, talking about her day with Adam, getting side-tracked with stories about her crazy amazing friends, babbling a mile a minute.
“Wow,” Katy says, when Kris breaks for air, “you sound so giddy and happy right now. It’s a little weird.”
“Shut up,” Kris says. “I’m totally a happy person.”
“Well you are now,” Katy counters, laughing. “And is that because of Los Angeles, or Adam?”
Kris scoffs, chewing on her thumbnail. Against her ear, her phone beeps quietly, signaling another incoming text, the third since she’s been talking with Katy. It’s gotta be Adam, and Kris blushes.
“She’s awesome,” she says, “like, so much more awesome in person. It’s going to be so much fun, being her friend. Is that a weird thing to be excited about?”
“Of course not,” Katy says. “But Kris, all of that stuff you just told me about - meeting all of her friends, going shopping, out to dinner - it sounds more like a date.”
“What? No,” Kris says. “It wasn’t a date. If it was a date, I would know.”
“Oh really?” Katy asks skeptically.
“Okay,” Kris concedes, “well, Adam would’ve told me.”
“Oh r - “
“It wasn’t a date!” Kris exclaims exasperatedly.
“Whatever you say,” Katy replies innocently.
Later that night, lying in her bed, Kris tries to block out the faint sounds of Kendra’s iPod and thinks about what Katy had said, trying to work it out logically in her head. She’s not totally clueless, she knows she has a tiny crush on Adam - well, more like embarrassingly gigantic, okay - but it’s gotta just be the rush of meeting her in person, right? Like - it’ll fade, right, after Kris gets used to being around her?
The only thing is - the entire day she’d spent with Adam, meeting everyone and shopping and joking around, it’d felt almost like - she was taking a test, in a way. It was how Bambi and Lola and Danielle had sized her up a few times, when they didn’t think Kris was paying attention, throwing little smiles at Adam. And how Adam stuck close to Kris’s side the whole time, stepping in whenever the conversation stalled, arm practically glued to Kris’s shoulders. It had felt like Kris was - meeting the family, almost. And had been given an enthusiastic stamp of approval, no less.
But if Adam wanted it to be like that, wanted to date Kris, she would’ve said something, right? Kris thinks to all the conversations they’ve had about dating, and relationships, and over and over Adam had talked about how she’s almost always the first one to make a move, and how she doesn’t have any patience for mind games. So - it’s nothing. Kris just has to get over it, because Adam is her friend, the best friend she has in LA, and that’s more than enough awesome all in itself. So there.
Classes start the next day, and Kris gets swallowed up by the realities of actually being in college. As a music major she has lessons in addition to the regular schedule of classes and it takes her a couple weeks to get used to the workload, such a drastic change from the joke that high school was that it’s more of an adjustment than she’d been expecting.
Adam takes her out on the weekends to keep her from going completely crazy, taking Kris on adventures around the city, always a bright source of energy and happiness. Tarot readings, and concerts, and open mic nights that make Kris itch to get her own guitar and play, and tiny little shops and bizarre little events and finds in every corner of the city that Adam has an uncanny habit of hunting down.
And before Kris knows it, Adam’s friends are kind of her friends too - she goes out for coffee with Sasha on Thursday afternoons, who works really close to campus and always stops by on that day since she gets off early. Brad takes her shopping with him a few times, taking on the mission to spice up Kris’s wardrobe and she always returns with new outfits that she never would’ve been brave enough to buy herself had Brad not been right at her shoulder, urging her on. Lola is a fixture too, and Kris goes over to her apartment whenever she can to jam, helping her learn how to play the guitar again in exchange for keyboard lessons. Danielle and the two Allisons - “Allison-with-an-o or Alisan-with-an-a?” - and Cassidy and his roommate Barbie, Monte and his kick-ass wife, Joshua and Rahab (they count as two people, Kris learns) and Kris’s contact list just keeps expanding and expanding every day.
Kris finds a solid friend in Suzanne, too, and her roommate Kelsi, a super ditzy chick who kind of fulfills every blonde stereotype in existence. Kris would probably despise her if she wasn’t also the sweetest person in the world. There’s also Cale, a fellow music major who hits on Kris pretty constantly for a couple weeks before she puts him out of his misery and tells him she’s gay, out of pure irritation.
“Aw, damn,” is his reaction. “But if you were straight, you would totally have coffee with me, right?”
Kris rolls her eyes. “Sure, whatever,” she says, and he pumps his fist in triumph.
He’s a goofy guy, but sweet, and an awesome guitarist, and Kris takes him over to Lola’s one night to jam. He and Lola hit it off like crazy, and with Lola on keyboards and Kris and Cale on guitar, it almost sounds like a real band.
“We should totally do it,” Cale insists, “start a band, I mean. Why not? That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
Lola laughs. “I’ll leave that up to you two,” she says. “I’m too fabulous to be a rock star. You two though,” she wags one blue fingernail at them teasingly, “you’re both gonna be big.”
Cale preens, and Kris takes another sip of Lola’s special strawberry lemonade, and kind of believes it. (And that’s how Kris And Cale’s Unnamed Band is born, even though Cale really wants to call it Green Snow - because it’s ironic! - but Kris refuses to ever touch a guitar in his presence if he doesn’t come up with something better than that, so.)
There’s Kendra, too, sort of, maybe. Except for how she totally disapproves of basically, everyone Kris likes.
“It’s kind of funny?” Adam says one night, after they are driven down to the common room because of Kendra’s squirrel-like behavior around them. “Like, in a really abstract way?”
Kris groans. “She doesn’t even like Kelsi. How do you hate Kelsi? It’s like hating a kitten.”
Adam stretches out on the couch next to her, propping her feet in Kris’s lap with a content sigh, nudging at her until Kris concedes and starts massaging them. “Well, if she starts throwing bibles at you or something, you are totally welcome to move in with me. Oh holy God, that feels good.”
“You so take advantage of me,” Kris says, but Adam just moans, head tipped back against the couch, so mouth-wateringly hot that Kris doesn’t - really have room to talk, like, at all.
part three