"Hey, Quinn," Gabe called out to the hallway. Sara had always thought of Quinn as being a shadow of a girl. She didn't even bother to look up from her magazine as the girl stuck her head into Gabe's bedroom. "I found an awesome house. We're moving in two weeks, on the first of the month."
"I'm not your fucking house slave," she shouted, though for most people, it would have been considered talking with slightly increased volume. Without any explanation to why she felt that way, Quinn continued down the hall, while Gabe stared at the door. It was one of few times she'd ever spoken back.
"I think she's mad at you," Sara muttered, flipping the page in her magazine. Secretly, it made her happy. She knew Gabe looked at Quinn like she was family, someone he had to protect, but their relationship made Sara jealous. To make it worse, Quinn lived on the property. Not in same the house, but a smaller one that was obstructed from view by a small patch of trees. Gabe's family had an expansive property, and Quinn's parents managed it twenty-four seven. Quinn might not have been a slave, but when Sara thought about it, Quinn had been raised to be his servant, in a way.
"She's just pissed because I beat up that ass. She'll get over it," Gabe stated.
She answered him, by saying, "She wants to date an ass, let her. I do."
"It's going to be like that, is it?" he replied.
Sara rolled her eyes, but couldn't keep a smile at bay. "I'm just saying, baby. She doesn't need your constant protection; it's not doing her any favors. She's halfway through college, and doesn't have her own voice. Let baby girl get hurt, so she can grow her own claws."
"So I should let her get used, and abused," he said heatedly.
"You should have talked to her about your concerns, before you decided to knock her boyfriend unconscious," Sara replied. "And then, if intervention doesn't work, knock him out."As much as she didn't want to admit it, today's display had made even Sara want to scratch the face off that douche, before Gabe knocked him out. Sometimes she wanted to grab Quinn, shake her violently, and scream, why are you so weak? Why do you let yourself be used?
Gabe shrugged. "Sounds like I skipped a few steps, and streamlined the whole process." There was the faint sound of a doorbell, causing him to jump to his feet. "Daniel's here." He ran out of the room, like an excited child, and Sara rolled her eyes again.
A moment after he was gone, Quinn stormed back into the room, going to the closet to pick up the hamper. It was only half-filled with dirty clothes, as the other clothes were strewn on the floor. Cheeks flushed red with anger, Quinn bent down to pick up the strewn clothes. Sara raised her eyebrows. She'd never seen Quinn so angry, and she couldn't stop the thought from popping out of her mouth, "If you're so mad, why are you doing his laundry? I thought you weren't his slave."
"You're right," Quinn slammed the hamper on the floor. "He'll have to learn to do it himself." It seemed like she was going to walk away, but she timidly picked the basket up again, "Actually, I am paid to do it." Grabbing a grey sweatshirt, she tossed it back onto the ground. "But that wasn't in the hamper, and I'm not paid to pick his shit up."
Baby tiger is learning to growl, Sara mocked. It occurred to her that Quinn didn't curse often.
Kicking a book that was lying next to the bed, Quinn growled,"He can't even pick up his stupid textbooks."
The research paper on top of it flew off. Sara's voice was cold. "That was mine."
Never before had someone turned so pale, so fast. All the blood left Quinn's face so quickly, Sara was afraid the girl would faint for a second. Quinn dropped to her knees, picking up the book, and the paper, and placed them on the desk. Quietly, she apologized, "I'm sorry." Her eyes were staring at the floor, and her shoulders hunched as if she was preparing to get hit.
I'm not your dick boyfriend, Sara thought. What she said was, "Grab that nail polish, and do my nails for me."
Quinn blinked, but then did as she was told. The command was not unusual. Quinn gave the nail polish a quick shake before she opened the bottle. Secretly, she admired Sara. The woman always knew what she wanted, and she never got pushed around. Quinn was too anxious to be like her.
"Don't fuck up," Sara warned. When Quinn was done, Sara blew on her nails. Since the task was finished, Quinn started to stand. Sara surprised herself by not wanting Quinn to go. Gabe had clearly gotten distracted while doing something with Daniel. "Stop, grab a bright color out of the bag."
Quinn pulled out a bright orange, but there was no way that would go with her skin tone. "Not that bright," Sara said. On her second try, Quinn pulled out a bold blue color. "Put your hands on the bed," Sara ordered. When Quinn hesitated, Sara threatened, "Do it, or I'll paint your nails that hot pink color you hate." Grimacing, Quinn did that which was required of her. "You shouldn't date a Todd. It's not a manly name," Sara bullshitted. "You should date a Simon, or Peter, or Jimmy. Peters and Jimmys are always nice."
"What about Simons?"
"They're not always nice, so much as gentlemanly. You know, classy, reserved, appropriate," Sara explained. "And hot. Jimmy's are usually hot too."
"What about Peters?"
Sara grimaced, "Sometimes."
Quinn wanted to laugh, but if she moved her hands by accident, Sara would chastise her. Quietly, she said, "Todd didn't make me upset. Gabe should have asked, not assumed it was Todd."
"Who wouldn't assume? Todd's an ass," Sara stated, before she declared to her own surprise, "Break up with him."
"I can't. We're not dating," Quinn murmured.
Surprised, Sara looked at the girl, and said, "What?"
"Everyone just assumed. We're together a lot, because we're in a lot of the same classes, we help each other with our assignments," Quinn muttered. "I'm not dating him."
"Are you sure?" Sara wanted to know. It might seem like a stupid question, but sometimes Quinn was extremely passive. "He's always got his arm around you, and you always have plans on the weekends. He's talked about sexual escapades between the two of you, a major turn off, by the way."
"Have you ever taken discrete mathematics? Nothing is more stress relieving than a little sexual deviancy. It's not like we've had sex," Quinn said. Against her will, Sara laughed. She hadn't expected that. Quinn indicated the hamper, "I should take this to the laundry room."
"I dare you to touch anything before those nails are dry," Sara challenged. "Except the TV. I'm bored." My stupid bf is probably playing videogames with his best friend. If he wasn't back upstairs soon, she was going downstairs, and beating all of them at whatever game it was, until they cried, and begged for mercy. Quinn reached back and turned on the TV. Wiggling her feet, Sara commanded, "Massage my feet for me."
Compliantly, Quinn worked some magic. As demanding as Sara was being, her feet really did hurt. Unlike her boyfriend, she had not been blessed with such extravagant wealth. She was probably as poor as Quinn, but without the luxury of rich people's hand me downs. Plus, Gabe's father really liked Quinn, and helped out on her college tuition. Sometimes Gabe's parents acted like Guinn was their second daughter, and sometimes Sara thought they liked Quinn better.
Like Quinn, Sara had a job where she was on her feet all day, coupled by an internship, which also included standing for long periods of time. Unlike Quinn, Sara still insisted on hearing heels in her free time. Kicking her feet away from Quinn, and sitting up, Sara said, "He does what he does, because you let him. You do whatever people tell you to."
Sara should have been impressed by her ability to disagree at all, even if it was with a weak grunt. "You've done everything I've said since you've come here."
"Yeah, but . . ."
Shadow Girl needs proof. "Don't ever see Todd again."
"But what? You're twenty fucking years old, and you're not going to see you sexually deviant homework buddy, because your dad's boss' son's girlfriend said so? What is wrong with you?"
Quinn cringed, "I thought, maybe, you know, after three years, we'd be friends."
You just wash my boyfriend's clothes. "He does what he does, because you never stick up for yourself. It's habit for him. Why would you do everything I tell you to do, anyway? Your job isn't to suck up to me, or make me happy."
"I could make you happy," Quinn muttered.
"This is what I'm taking about. No one can hear you," Sara scolded. "What did you say?"
Instead of repeating herself, Quinn stared up at Sara's lips. They were a soft pinkish-purple color. She had drifted off, thinking about those lips. Sara was nice to Quinn in a mean way. That sounded like something an abused person would say. Quinn knew Sara was probably jealous of how close Quinn was to Gabe, but they'd known each other their whole lives. Gabe was like an annoying relative she had to deal with. She blamed it on his name. Having the same name as an archangel made him too entitled, and too protective. Sara tilted her head half a foot above Quinn's, and said, "Are you even listening?"
Before she could stop herself, Quinn tilted her head, and quickly kissed Sara's lips.