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you're calling to me, i can't hear

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There was something significant in the way Waverly felt when she watched Nicole Haught talk to girls. 

She had a reputation, she was the head of the basketball team so of course she did. Parties to Nicole Haught meant cocky grins and drinking and a lot of sex, it meant using her charm and her school status to get what she wants, who she wants. 

And maybe Waverly is oblivious, but maybe she isn’t, because Nicole acts a certain way around her, but there are times where she’s different, as if she’s hinting at something more that might be there between them, that would be there between them if Waverly just gives in to whatever it is Nicole is trying to do.

And now, stood in the midst of dancing, sweaty teenagers, most of whom she unfortunately knows, it’s impossible to keep her eyes on Nicole for very long. Really, she’s lucky Nicole is so tall, because she can see the back of her head but not her. 

Waverly does know she’s talking to a girl, though. And it almost makes her look away entirely. 

Chrissy leans over to her, mouth close to her ear to yell over the music because god knows neither of them can even think in there over the sound of something awful and pumpy. “You know, going over to Haught and talking to her might help you out a little bit.”

Waverly narrows her eyes and nudges Chrissy’s shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It’s pathetic, covering up her attraction. While only a few people have actually recognised it, Chrissy being the first, those who do know milk it to no end and Waverly, admittedly kind of likes the images they’ve put in her head, all made much more visual by Waverly thinking about them (Nicole wanting to get in her pants, in the vulgar way Chrissy had described, had eventually turned into Waverly diving deeper and thinking about Nicole crawling between her thighs and using her mouth to draw out sides of her that she never thought possible. She’d inevitably ended up under the sheets of her own bed with her fingers working between her legs and Nicole’s name the only word she could remember). 

“I’m not stupid, Waves,” Chrissy rolls her eyes, hand curling around her elbow to pull her further into the crowd. “But if you really want to annoy her, follow my lead.” 

Waverly gives her a confused glance, tripping over moving people as Chrissy drags her to a less busy area.

Right into Nicole’s view.

She can feel Nicole’s eyes burning into the back of her head as they flick between her and whoever she’s talking to, whoever is smiling up at her and trailing fingertips up her bicep. Whoever will be there with Nicole tonight, in a stranger’s bed at the exact house party she’s at now. 

Waverly shudders.

“Do I do something?” Waverly asks, less yelled than before since it’s a bit quieter where they’re stood. “Do I just-”

“I say do something!” 

Waverly goes rigid at the arm around her torso and the sloppy, drunken kiss pushed to her cheek. She wrinkles her nose. Whiskey. Strong whiskey. 

Wynonna.

“Do you even know what we’re talking about?” Waverly groans, raising an eyebrow at her sister, who’s slurring and stumbling an hour into the party. 

Wynonna shakes her head. “Something to do with Big Dick Nic, probably.” Wynonna cackles to herself and downs another mouthful of whiskey. Waverly widens her eyes and grabs at the bottle. There’s only so many dick jokes she can put up with. “Usually is. Anyway, anyone seen Dolls? Oh and hey! He has a big d-”

“Wynonna, please!” Waverly presses her palm to her forehead. 

“Want me to get him to show you? And Nicole! I’m sure she’d pull her co-”

“Wynonna!”

“Fine,” she mumbles, squeezing at Waverly’s hip. “I’ll just...go find Dolls.”

Wynonna stumbling away is a relief. Her drunk sister being around her while she’s done nothing but stare at Nicole all night is the last thing she wants on her list, what with Wynonna’s big mouth and her tendency to shout things at the top of her lungs. Nicole would know in a heartbeat how much Waverly thinks about her. 

That was certainly not on tonight’s to-do list.

Waverly turns to glance behind her out of interest, mainly to see what Nicole’s doing, and admittedly she does see Chrissy roll her eyes at the motion. To be fair to herself, she’s kind of annoyed, too. 

When she turns, she panics, because Nicole meets her eye and dammit, it’s not even remotely subtle . Nicole’s smirking, though. She’s still glancing back and forth between the girl stood in front of her (Waverly thinks her name is Joanie, but she’s seen the same girl stare at Nicole in class, at basketball and cheerleading practice, during all the games, and that annoys her too much to even think about learning her name, let alone to remember it), but there’s a look on her face that Waverly can’t read.

Maybe it’s nothing, but the way she narrows her eyes at Waverly with cocky smirk on her lips followed by a wink leads her to believe that Nicole is just being hey, look at my school status Nicole. And it should frustrate her, really. She should be astounded, overwhelmed and completely against that side of Nicole because she knows the sweet and gentle Nicole better than anyone else and a different side to someone would usually annoy her to no end.

But, Nicole, no.

The school status version of Nicole did nothing but turn her on, leaving her buried between sheets with a desire hungry enough to devour her whole. It was inappropriate, of course it was, she’d be the first to admit it.

But, god.

Everything about her, particularly the crisp, white shirt that currently frames her torso. It’s perfect on her, in every sense of the term. It shows the definition in her biceps, the undone buttons display the creamy skin of her neck, and if she looks close enough, her collarbones, too. It forms perfectly, making her shoulders look broad but still beautifully feminine, as though she could bend Waverly over her and pound her until she’s whining, but could also within a few minutes, pull Waverly into her chest for a relaxed embrace and cover her forehead in gentle kisses.

Waverly’s own thoughts gave her whiplash, to say the least. 

The wink that Nicole throws in her direction definitely does not go unnoticed by Chrissy, either. “Jesus, does she think she’s being subtle?”

“Shut it, Chrissy.” Waverly doesn’t take her eyes off Nicole, who’s looking back at Joanie, coy grin on her face and hands on her bare forearms where the sleeves have been rolled and cuffed at her elbows. Waverly wants to tear her gaze away, she really does. Watching Nicole flirt was definitely not her favourite way to pass the time and she’d be the first to admit that. Watching the Nicole charm quite literally smother the girl before her, who’s doe-eyed, but in contrast, somewhat prepared to pounce. “God, look at her.”

“Who, Nicole? I know, I must say even I’m creaming a little.” Chrissy admits, more confident than she would normally be with the alcohol running through the system. She wouldn’t normally be so honest. 

Waverly widens her eyes, mouth falling open just slightly as she turns her gaze to Chrissy briefly. “I meant the whore that Nicole’s talking to. Though that’s been noted. Thanks, Chrissy.”

Chrissy now has the tendency to blush, both at her misunderstanding and her very vulgar admittance.

Waverly rolls her eyes and stares at the barely touched vodka and coke in her hand. With a final glance at Nicole, she gulps the whole thing, leaves the cup on the beer pong table (to which, someone from a sports team, maybe hockey, thanks her profusely with alcohol on his breath), and looks back at Chrissy. 

“I need something harder.” Waverly states. Though her frame is small, she’s an Earp, which means alcohol intake is never something she has to worry about, unless she was to be on a budget in which she’d have to spend too much to actually get to a point where she could feel the alcohol rush to her head. 

“Wynonna has whiskey.” Chrissy shrugs, and then points to the corner of the kitchen where Wynonna stands, whiskey discarded on the kitchen island and hips pressed tight to the counter by Dolls. “Christ. She’s not hiding him anymore, huh.”

“Oh, believe me, this is nothing.” Waverly shivers. “I went downstairs this morning and Wynonna’s mouth was elsewhere.” 

Chrissy fake-gags, though Waverly is unsure why because she’s certain Chrissy had mentioned a time where she and Robin had gone a little further than just making out in the backseat of his car. And she’d explicitly stated that she’d need to practice taking something down her throat if she wanted to seduce the captain of the hockey team. Though Waverly had told her that Perry, said captain of said hockey team, was definitely not like that, Chrissy had shrugged it off and carried on Googling the most obscene blowjob tips and porn close up enough to disturb anyone. That was the point that Waverly had given up trying to lure Chrissy in the right direction. 

“Wynonna said he was big…” Chrissy wonders. “Is he?”

“I didn’t look!” 

“Fine! Just wondering, you know what they say-”

“Chrissy, shut up.”

Chrissy breaks down in laughter at the look of disgust on Waverly’s face, likely from a memory of something she’d rather not have seen or heard about. 

“Did you remember what I told you about Robin or what you caught Wynonna doing?”

“Something much worse. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Something to do with Hardy, perhaps?” Chrissy nudges her elbow into Waverly’s side a few times. Waverly gives her a look, the please just shut your mouth look, and Chrissy knows. 

When Waverly turns again to glance at Nicole, her heart breaks and her anger snaps, her fists ball and nothing else is present, not even Chrissy, other than Joanie’s fingers curling around the back of Nicole’s neck, the hands that go to Joanie’s waist when Nicole just lets her move closer, lets herself be kissed. 

Kissed, by someone that isn’t Waverly. 

Chrissy raises an eyebrow and the trace of the smirk from before is gone, it’s replaced with what Waverly thinks is anger, too. Heartbreak. Disrespect, maybe. All because she’s been praying for Nicole and Waverly to realise their attraction to each other before even they were aware of it, and now that she thinks Waverly is comfortable with it, though she refuses to talk about it or admit it, there’s nothing that she can do, now. 

“You know, Nicole probably won’t even talk to her after tonight. She doesn’t cuff herself to girls ever. It’s always a one night thing, and then she doesn’t remember their name.” 

Waverly accepts the comment, trying not to glare at them, trying to ignore the way Nicole pulls their bodies closer and deepens their kiss, and the way that Joanie breaks it to give her some kind of look, which ends with them getting up and disappearing into a hallway.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Not helping, Chrissy,” Waverly warns, lips pressing together hard as she turns back toward the kitchen.

“Right, sorry.” She looks at the floor, fiddles with the zip of her bag for a second. “I’m right though, she won’t see Jennie after tonight.”

“Joanie.”

“Do you care?”

“No.”

“Then don’t remember her name.” Chrissy tells her, sliding an arm up Waverly’s back to guide her into the kitchen before she blows a damn gasket, runs after them, pushes Joanie as forcefully as she can and then cheats on her boyfriend, which Waverly has seemed to completely forget about since she’d walked through the door of the party. 

Chrissy grabs Wynonna’s whiskey bottle and immediately, Dolls’ back hits the kitchen island and Wynonna has her palm out. “Hands off the juice, Nedley.”

“Your sister is in a crisis. I swear if this isn’t burning her throat in the next twenty seconds, the poor girl will get herself sectioned¹. Dolls?”

“On it,” he throws a drunken wink, and Wynonna is pushed to the counter again, memory of stolen whiskey unimportant. 

 

---

 

“How could she just-” Waverly steps on another solo cup, the plastic cracking and the crunching sound beneath her feet seeming somewhat soothing. “Does she not know?”

“Know what, m’love?” Chrissy bounces her leg as she watches the small ball of fury take her anger out on poor, red solo cups that did absolutely nothing to deserve their current treatment. “About your feelings?” 

“I don’t have any feelings.”

“Pretty sure you have feelings.”

“I don’t have any feelings, Chrissy!” Waverly pauses, staring down at where Chrissy sits. “I don’t feel anything for her.”

“So… your current breakdown is happening, why? Because you’re mad she’s having friendly sex with some whore from biology instead of you? Because you just don’t want her to have mindless, meaningless sex with said whore from biology?”

“Because I just want her to bend me over, dammit!” 

All eyes move to Waverly in a split second and she panics. “Emily Blunt?”

Amusingly, they all shrug it off and nod in what Waverly thinks is agreement, though she’s too damn drunk to read people in her current state. Even all the annoyingly layered in makeup popular girls give a nod, which Waverly can’t help but grin at. Fair enough. 

“Subtle.” Chrissy eyes Waverly, who’s about ready to curl up and die if she’s being completely honest with herself. “Jesus, you’re a nightmare.” 

Waverly flips her off, then sinks to the floor, lifting her legs and bringing them to her chest. Chrissy sighs and moves in front of her, sitting on her legs and placing her palms over Waverly’s knees. 

They’re outside now, on the concrete on the other side of the pool. There are people around, but they’re a fair distance away so Waverly can talk freely, this time without yelling, hopefully. 

“Let’s just have a good time, okay? Forget about her. And hey, it’s almost twelve. Champ will be here soon.”

Waverly smiles and they lift themselves up off the floor. Chrissy pulls her into a hug, and as much as she tries to ignore the look on Waverly’s face, she knows the smile isn’t the one that should be there. 

 

---

 

“God, my head.” Waverly attempts to lift herself up, but there’s a hand on her shoulder to push her back down. 

“Hey, drunky.”

“Oh my God!”

Waverly opens her eyes now, and the one person she’d rather not be faced with is, of course, kneeling beside her. 

“Nicole?”

“Well, she’s conscious.” Nicole looks up to Chrissy, who’s stood over them with a guilty look on her face. She knows Waverly will shout at her at some point soon. 

“Why isn’t Chrissy doing this job?” She wrinkles her nose. She can smell the alcohol on herself, and it’s worse than what Wynonna usually smells like on a Monday morning when Waverly slips into the driver’s seat of the Jeep. 

“Because she’s not used to taking care of the Earp family while drunk. I, on the other hand, have experienced it with Wynonna since she was thirteen.”

“Haught!” 

“Ow!”

The front of Wynonna’s boot leaves a print on Nicole’s tight, black jeans, right on the thigh where Wynonna had graciously kicked her. “She’s not supposed to know I’ve been drinking so long.”

Nicole fakes a whoops and Waverly glares at Wynonna who shrugs at the threatening look on Waverly’s face, unphased. She knows Waverly will yell at her later, but it’s likely she’ll be drunk again and won’t even remember it the next day. 

Nicole’s wearing the same shirt as last night, though it’s crinkled compared to what it was. The sleeves are still rolled right up to the elbow, and Waverly, who’s weak from the sight of Nicole’s forearms when she’s far away, is trying not to stare. 

“Can you get up?” Nicole softens, looking down at Waverly again. 

“No.” 

“Would you like me to help you up?” Nicole stands then and holds out both hands.

Waverly would be an idiot to turn this down. 

“Yes.”

Waverly takes her hands, gripping firmly, and her legs almost go weak at how strong Nicole’s grip is to make sure Waverly stands properly without getting so disoriented that she falls over. 

When Waverly stands, she faces Nicole, who’s smiling at her, somewhere between soft and teasing. “Thank you.” 

Nicole winks, and she definitely notices Waverly glance down, right towards the extra button that’s not fastened at the bottom of her shirt. Waverly can see it, only slightly, the definition of her abdomen, but she snaps her gaze up quickly and drops Nicole’s hands. 

“Champ’s outside.” Nicole steps back. “He’s waiting for you. Pissed according to Chrissy that he came to pick you up and you never showed.” 

Waverly’s eyebrows furrow and she barely resists clenching her teeth. Nicole is always nice with her. She’s gentle, caring, always there if she needs her. Truthfully, Waverly would rather go to Nicole about some things in her life than her own sister.

But Nicole was always cold towards her if Champ was involved.

To be fair, she gets it. She does. Waverly knows that Nicole doesn’t really like Champ, the two of them have had quite the feud over the years, mostly due to them liking the same girls at parties and Nicole inevitably the one to end up in bed with whichever girl was the pick of the night. Admittedly, this was because Nicole, while cocky, is still entirely respectful, whereas Champ is far from it. Wynonna, her sister and Nicole’s best friend, also strongly dislikes Champ and doesn’t hide it. Even Chrissy had warned Waverly about Champ and his actions, as well as his dire relationship with Nicole and how it would affect their friendship.

But Waverly went for him anyway, and almost a year later, somehow, they’re still standing. 

“Who called him?” Waverly reaches for the jacket Nicole hands to her. 

“I did,” Chrissy tells her. “I told him you were too drunk last night and he left. Now he has this idea that you’re about to spend the day with him.”

Waverly slips the jacket on, rolling her eyes at Champ’s behaviour. It was typical of him to turn up anyway and ultimately ruin her day. “Fantastic.”

Waverly swears she sees a smirk play at the corners of Nicole’s mouth, but she ignores it.

“I thought you broke up with him, Wave.” Wynonna, still somewhat drunk, slurs as she follows Waverly to the front door. 

“I did. Numerous times. He thinks I’m joking.” 

“So tell him you’re not?”

Waverly shrugs. “He’s a nice escape sometimes. Figured I may as well live my high school life, right?”

“Waves…”

“Bye, Wynonna. Thank Nicole again for me.” Waverly smiles fondly at her sister and exits the house, closing the door behind her. 

“Something’s up with her.” Wynonna states. “Something is up. Nedley?”

“Don’t look at me, she tells me nothing.” Chrissy holds her hands up in defence. “Seriously man, I don’t know a thing. I just think Hardy’s a jackass.”

“Oh,” Wynonna drops her accusation, face falling to neutral. “Well, fair enough.”

 

---

 

“Damn, Waves, rough night?” Champ gruffs when Waverly opens the door, sliding into the passenger seat. 

“Nice to see you too, Champ.” Waverly rolls her eyes, smoothing the ends of her dress the best she can. “Take me home.”

“We’re supposed to spend the day together?” Champ looks over as he pulls away. 

“I need to change first, then sleep in a real bed for a couple hours. Go home, I’ll see you tonight, okay?” Waverly smiles at him, something genuine behind the grin she gives him. 

He sighs. “Okay, babe. Whatever you want.”

Waverly can’t even be bothered to fight with him. 

The Homestead is empty when she gets there. Her mother hadn’t shown her face for going on over ten years, and her father would be too busy drinking to worry about her, or her sisters. There’s an empty bottle of whiskey on the table, laying on it’s side with the final drop of it forming a small puddle on the surface of the furniture. 

“Started already?” Waverly sighs, though is relieved to hear Champ’s car pull out of Earp property at a speed that’ll definitely get him pulled over. 

Only when she gets upstairs to shower does she realise the jacket she’s wearing is actually Nicole’s. 

 

-end