Kaia didn't sleep that night. She lay in bed with her phone clutched to her chest, screen dimmed, mind loud. Nova's name burned behind her eyes like a brand. Every time she closed them, she felt fingers. Mouth. Heat. Her body still ached, nerves strung tight like a bowstring pulled too far. She didn't cry. Not this time. But she didn't feel whole either—like she'd cracked something open that wouldn't close again.
She showered with shaking hands and stood under the water too long, trying to scrub the scent of Nova off her skin even though part of her didn't want to. Her thighs were sore. Her lips bruised. Her chest tight.
In the mirror, she barely recognized herself. Her cheeks were pink, eyes glassy, collarbone glitter still faint even after the washcloth. She didn't look like a girl who was surviving. She looked like someone who'd just tasted something dangerous and wasn't sure if she wanted to spit it out or starve without it.
At school, she wore long sleeves. No makeup. Hair pulled back. She couldn't explain why—only that she didn't want anyone looking at her too closely. Not when her skin felt like it was humming with secrets.
Nova didn't say anything that morning. Just walked past Kaia in the hallway like they hadn't done that in the locker room thirty hours ago. Like she hadn't had her fingers inside her, whispering "good girl" with a smirk and a softness that cut deep.
Kaia's stomach flipped. Not because she was surprised. But because of course Nova was that kind of girl. The kind who kisses you like a promise, fucks you like a prayer, then vanishes like a ghost the next day.
In Art, Kaia tried to paint. Tried to focus on light and shadows and skin tone. But everything turned into Nova again. Her lips. Her hands. The way she'd looked at her right before she said "Don't fall in love with me." Kaia had barely nodded. Hadn't said it out loud. But it was too late anyway.
At lunch, Nova sat with her usual crew. Loud, glittery, half-punk half-something-else girls with knee socks and vape pens. Kaia watched from across the cafeteria, untouched tray in front of her. Nova didn't look over. Not once. She laughed at something the blonde next to her said and shoved a fry in her mouth like she hadn't just split Kaia open and licked the seams closed.
Kaia hated her for that. And hated herself more for still wanting her anyway.
---
That night, Kaia painted again. Not with care. With rage. With hunger. Her hands moved fast, slapping color onto canvas, reds and blacks and that impossible, endless brown of Nova's eyes. She painted teeth. Tongues. Lips. Clenched fists. Hands gripping hips. She didn't care if it looked good. She cared that it felt like something.
By the time she stepped back, sweat clung to her back. Her fingers were stained. Her heart was an open wound and her thighs ached again from sitting cross-legged too long.
She didn't touch herself this time. She just sat in the quiet, staring at the chaos she'd made.
Then her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: You still awake?
Her heart skipped. She typed: Who is this?
Three dots. Then—
Unknown Number: Don't play. You know.
Kaia stared at the screen, pulse banging against her throat. She typed slowly: Why are you texting me now?
Pause.
Nova: Because I want to.
Nova: Because I'm thinking about your mouth.
Nova: Because I can still taste you.
Kaia's legs clenched so tight it hurt.
She replied: So what, you get bored and I'm your backup?
Nova: If that's what you think, delete my number.
Nova: But if you're still wet when you think of me, meet me tomorrow.
Nova: Drama Room. After school.
Nova: Don't make me beg.
Kaia didn't reply. But her hands shook.
She didn't sleep.
---
Friday, she didn't tell anyone where she was going. Didn't go home. Didn't text her mom. She just walked through the empty hallways like she was in a dream. Every step closer to the Drama Room made her stomach twist.
Inside, it was mostly dark. The backlights from the stage glowed blue. Curtains half-drawn. Silence swallowing everything.
Nova was already there. Sitting on the edge of the stage. Hoodie off. Tank top again. This time navy. Kaia hated how her mouth watered just looking at her.
"You came," Nova said, casual, like they were just running into each other.
"You texted me like a threat," Kaia muttered.
Nova smirked. "Wasn't a threat. It was a promise."
Kaia crossed her arms. "So what's this, a hook-up schedule? Mondays, lockers. Fridays, theater?"
Nova stood, slow. Walked down the steps like a storm in a pretty dress. "You want it to be that?"
"I don't know what I want."
Nova stopped in front of her. Close enough to touch. "Liar."
Kaia's breath stuttered. "You ignore me at school."
"I'm not good at soft."
"No shit."
Nova tilted her head. "You want soft?"
Kaia hesitated. Then shook her head. "I want real."
Nova's eyes didn't blink. "This is real."
"Then stop hiding."
Something shifted. Nova reached out. Hand on Kaia's cheek. Gentle. Careful. Like maybe she heard the break in her voice and didn't want to press too hard.
Then she leaned in. Not rushed. Not rough. Just lips brushing lips. A question. An ache. Kaia answered with her whole body, fingers tangling in Nova's braid, mouth hungry.
This kiss wasn't fire—it was smoke. Slow. Suffocating. Filling every space.
Nova whispered against her mouth: "No one makes me feel like this."
Kaia whispered back: "Then stop pretending I don't exist."
Nova pushed her gently down onto the dusty drama room couch. And Kaia let her. Again.
Nova's thigh pressed between Kaia's legs like she knew what she was doing—and she did. Her hands were slower this time, like she was trying to memorize the shape of Kaia's ribs, the slope of her stomach, the way she gasped when fingers traced the dip of her hip. The couch creaked under them, old and stained, half-covered with forgotten costumes, and Kaia couldn't bring herself to care.
Nova kissed her like she had all the time in the world. Lips soft, tongue teasing, teeth nipping the edge of Kaia's mouth until she whimpered into the space between them.
Kaia's shirt was off before she even noticed Nova reaching for it, her own hands too busy clinging to whatever she could. When Nova's palm flattened over her chest, Kaia arched, breath stuttering. "You always this sensitive?" Nova asked, voice low, smug.
Kaia couldn't answer. Just nodded, cheeks flushed, hands gripping Nova's waist like she'd fall apart otherwise.
"God," Nova murmured, mouth brushing Kaia's collarbone, "I like you like this. All needy."
Kaia hated how much that word made her pulse pound.
She let Nova unhook her bra, let the air kiss her bare skin, let Nova's tongue drag across her nipple slow enough to ruin her. "Nova," she breathed, barely a whisper.
"Mmm?" Her lips moved lower.
"Don't stop."
And she didn't.
---
Later, Kaia lay there with her jeans shoved halfway down, shirt balled up under her neck, breath still shaky, thighs sticky. Nova sat beside her, sipping from a stolen water bottle like she hadn't just turned Kaia inside out with nothing but her fingers and her mouth and a goddamn look.
Kaia watched her. Not with love. Not yet. But with something that lived in the same house.
Nova finally spoke. "You okay?"
Kaia blinked. "You're asking now?"
Nova smiled, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I always ask after."
Kaia sat up slowly, pulling her shirt over her head, wiping at her neck. "You confuse the shit out of me."
Nova tossed the water bottle in the bin without looking. "Yeah. I do that."
Kaia stared at her. "Do you even like me?"
Nova looked over, serious now. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."
"But—"
"But I'm not a girlfriend, Kaia. I don't hold hands in the hallway. I don't do 'what are we.' I don't meet moms."
Kaia swallowed hard. "So what is this?"
Nova shrugged. "Whatever we want it to be."
Kaia didn't know whether to scream or kiss her again.
She stood instead, pulling her hair back, trying to tame the flush still blooming across her chest. "You can't keep touching me like this and pretending it doesn't mean something."
Nova looked away. "It means something. But it doesn't have to mean everything."
Kaia hated that she got that. Hated it even more that she agreed.
---
They left the Drama Room separately.
Nova went first. Said "wait ten minutes" like they were in a heist movie and not a high school hookup with too many feelings. Kaia waited eleven, just to be safe. Her heart thudded the whole walk home.
That night, Kaia sat on her bed with her sketchbook open, but she didn't draw. Couldn't. Her fingers wouldn't move.
She just stared at the blank page, thinking about the way Nova looked right before she kissed her. Not the smug part. The part under it. The flicker of something real.
She wondered if Nova ever sat like this. Quiet. Alone. Wondering if she was being thought about too.
Then her phone buzzed again.
Nova: You forgot your necklace.
Nova: Still smells like you.
Nova: Don't make me give it back.
Kaia didn't reply. She just stared at the screen and let herself smile.