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The sound of running water bounces across the tiles, the girls’ bathroom empty as light from the sunset leaks through the crevices on the windows. Inside, Rhonda has her head dipped in a sink, a thin string of water wetting her digits. She straightens herself up, hands on black curls, free from the hat’s prison for once. Droplets hit the mirror in front of her when Rhonda ruffles her hair. It curls up, moistened. She hadn’t completely soaked it up, just wanted to bring the natural look back for a moment. When she’s done, Rhonda pauses, staring at herself. Her eyes roam her own features – forehead hidden by glossy curls, strong eyebrows, pinkish cheeks, lips curving up slightly without her permission. Rhonda tries to cut it out, to no avail.
The girl in the mirror doesn’t even look like herself. She looks unburdened. Lighter than she’s been in literal centuries. Happy? Rhonda feels something pulling at her heartstrings and swallows. Now, that’s a big word.
Maybe it’s too soon to start naming feelings she was sure she’d forgotten somewhere along the road. Snapping out of her reverie, Rhonda leaves the bathroom, her new outfit following suit.
Other than two or three janitors, the school is empty. No late-afternoon clubs, no overworking teachers. Just empty air and ghosts roaming hallways, each with their own mission and anguish. Simon was gone, Wally needed some time alone to process everything that happened in the past week, Charley and Yuri were learning how to navigate each other again. The loopers were looping and Rhonda was busy with her own things.
Well, one thing in particular.
She arrives at her destination and opens the door to the music room slowly, head peeking inside. Piano notes reach her ears and her shoulders instantly relax. The sunlight bathes the room in orange hues and warmth, bringing every note to life, and Rhonda stays there for a moment soaking up in the atmosphere. After a minute, she closes the door and walks towards the musician, hands behind her back.
Quinn doesn’t notice her. Too focused on the song they’re apparently composing, Quinn bites their lower lip with each note, repeating some chords to create a simple melody. They keep at it, laser-focused on refining the song, and Rhonda finds it endearing.
She does announce her presence at some point, though. “Nice melody.”
Quinn nearly falls off the seat. They jump, hand on their chest as they look up. “Oh my God, don’t do this— Oh, woah.” They clam up as soon as their eyes hit Rhonda. “Your hair!” A brief pause, “And your clothes, your… woah.”
Rhonda can’t hold back a tiny smile. She licks her lips and plays with one of her curls. “I thought a change was in order,” And then, a little quieter, “You like it?”
Quinn seems to short-circuit for a brief moment, stunned silence plastered on their face. Rhonda starts getting a bit self-conscious. Maybe the new outfit was too much? She didn’t really shift drastically from her preference for black, just found a nice light-gray poncho and dark-blue pants. Same collar, same shoes. If they were all going to be leveled with the school anyway, she might as well play with the theater kids’ outfits backstage.
“Yeah! I love it,” Quinn manages to reboot. They smile and then laugh, nervously. “It suits you. I think anything suits you, but, you know. Yeah.” And with this spectacular review, Quinn turns back to the piano, cheeks hot.
The silence could cut glass, and Rhonda isn’t here for it. She takes a step forward, hips bumping against Quinn’s shoulder. “Move over, Mozart.”
A brief stutter follows, but Quinn obliges. They sit side by side by the piano, the white keys almost entirely orange due to the time of day. No one speaks. Rhonda puts her index finger on the C key but doesn’t press it. She rubs it, getting a feeling for it.
“You know how to play?” Quinn asks, finally breaking the awkward silence.
“I haven’t played in ages,” Rhonda murmurs. “But I’ve always had a thing for musicians.”
It’s another critical hit to Quinn’s psyche and they breathe out another ridiculously nervous laugh. Rhonda smiles too. Her dead heart is honest-to-god racing. She hasn’t casually flirted with another soul in so long, but it feels… good. Her blunt remarks aren’t meant to tease Quinn, but it’s just so nice to know with every fiber of her being that someone is into her. Truly, genuinely attracted to her. Everything has been happening so much, and Rhonda hasn’t had the time to do this with Quinn yet.
“Well, I’d say I qualify as a musician.” Quinn replies after clearing their throat, gathering some courage of their own.
“Oh, yeah?” Rhonda’s eyes shine. “What were you composing before I got here?”
“Just something that’s been on my mind since…” Quinn chokes on their words, but pushes through. “Since we kissed.”
Now it’s Rhonda who loses her breath a little. She licks her lips again, turning her face to stare at Quinn. She hadn’t realized how handsome they were so up close. She knows that Quinn feels comfortable with their current outfit, but she imagines a change of style, maybe shorter hair to suit an androgynous look, an unbuttoned shirt, piercings. It does something to her heart.
Rhonda’s eyes flutter to their lips for a second before they’re back up. “Oh, yeah?”
“I— Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” Brave, through and through. Quinn seems to get more confident by the minute and places their hands back on the keys. “Been thinking about you a lot.”
They still haven’t looked at Rhonda, but Rhonda likes it this way. Quinn speaks to the piano and Rhonda admires them, and when Quinn starts playing again, it’s almost something out of a fairytale. The song carries over across the room, floating in the air like clouds. Rhonda closes her eyes and everything dims, a universe of their own where no one exists but Rhonda and Quinn. It sounds so nice, a reality where everyone is still dead but together, bound by trauma but not defined by it. The school isn’t about to be demolished and their days are still boring, but now Rhonda has someone, and suddenly she understands how Wally can smile or how Charley can crack jokes. Those days feel so distant now, just like the song coming out of Quinn’s soul. Rhonda feels tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she takes a deep breath.
When the song reaches the part that Quinn was working on earlier, Rhonda opens her eyes again. Quinn ends it on an awkward note, but smiles, nonetheless.
“That’s all I’ve got so far,” They say. And then, Rhonda’s own question back at her, “Do you like it?”
Tiny fireworks go off inside Rhonda’s chest and she stares at Quinn full of reverence. “I really do.”
The moment feels perfect, frozen in time. It would be so easy to kiss Quinn again without saying another word, but Rhonda came with a purpose and a prayer on her tongue, and ignoring them feels wrong.
“Quinn,” The name melts on her tongue. “I spent the whole day thinking, today.”
For once Quinn looks at her, eyebrows frowned in worry. “Bad things?”
“Not… Well, not entirely.” Rhonda turns her whole body to face them. “Look, everything is fucked. For the first time I feel like our days here are numbered, and not in a good way. I don’t think there’s any chance of us getting our doors before this place goes to shit, and honestly, even if we did, I—” It’s hard to say the next part out loud when everything Rhonda’s wanted for as long as she can remember was to get her door and get out of this nightmare. “I wouldn’t go through it. Not right now.”
“Wait, really?” That stuns Quinn. “But it’s your biggest wish.”
“It is, but…” Rhonda pauses. She was getting side-tracked. “Look, that’s a whole other can of worms. What I mean is that we don’t have time. Quite literally, with Simon gone, it’s just a matter of Wally getting his head back in the game until we’re all scurrying back for answers, and I just…”
Ghosts don’t need breath, but Rhonda stops to catch hers on instinct. She lets her eyes memorize Quinn and finishes her line of thought. “If I go to Forever Hell before getting to enjoy this… enjoy us, I’ll be super fucking pissed.”
It’s so honest and raw. This was Rhonda exposing herself in ways she never had. She feels naked, almost; her chest completely open and vulnerable, ribs out to be played with, and if Quinn decided to strangle her right now, it would be solely on her. She didn’t think she could do this again, not after everything. But this is Quinn, and if she can’t trust Quinn with her heart, then no one else is worth it.
Of course, the musician in front of her rises to the occasion with a smile and soft eyes. With one hand they brush a curl away from Rhonda’s face, gently cupping her cheek. Slowly, like a wounded beast that’s been loved for the first time, Rhonda lets her eyes close and leans against the warm palm.
Quinn rubs a thumb against her temple. “I want that too.” And because they can help themselves, “God, you’re so pretty.”
Rhonda lets out an airy laugh. “I better be, I got all dolled up for you.”
“You can’t say that,” Quinn’s voice cracks. “You come out here looking like a goddess and I’m wearing my everyday bibbers? You should’ve warned me.”
Eyes open, Rhonda’s look changes to pure desire. She gazes down, then back up, leaning closer as she murmurs. “But where’s the fun in that?”
The air changes, and Quinn is just a normal person. When all is said and done, they think there was no one in the world, alive or dead, who could resist Rhonda Rosen at this moment.
Like a magnet, they come together in a kiss, Quinn’s hand sliding to the back of Rhonda’s head. This time around they’re the one guiding it, and they have a feeling that’s what Rhonda wants anyway. Like everything else about her, her speech hid something deeper, the need to let go and stop thinking for once. Quinn understands her more than anyone.
Orange hues have all but disappeared, giving way to the outside lights from the campus. The music room is dark and the piano stool is way too small for six decades of hunger, so Rhonda leans back for a moment before shutting down the wooden piano fallboard with a loud bang and getting up, propping herself up there. This grants Quinn a vision – Rhonda’s legs spread as she breathes heavily.
“Come here.” Is all she needs to say before Quinn is stumbling their way up. Hands on her waist, Quinn pulls her into another kiss, languid and sweet. Rhonda’s arms wrap around their neck and she sighs. It’s a wild thought, that someone wants her this bad. She can feel it in the way Quinn’s inexperienced body reacts, small moans, hands roaming, lips a bit too eager. And Rhonda doesn’t think, doesn’t try to be mature or set the pace. She wraps her legs fully around Quinn and licks, tongue against teeth, teeth against lips. Quinn groans and curves her back, a slight hump to Rhonda’s front.
Quinn stops, pulling back slightly, breathless. “S-sorry, I’m not… I never—”
Rhonda shakes her head, and breathes against their lips. “Please, don’t stop.”
She’s never been this polite or desperate, and Quinn, bless their heart, dives back in with renewed hunger. They’re smashed together, Rhonda’s legs refusing to let them go, becoming one. Quinn has never kissed someone, not like this. Childhood pecks with a random kid in their neighborhood didn’t count, and for a brief moment they wonder if Rhonda likes it, if they’re doing well. They stop thinking entirely when Rhonda moans, voice coming loud and clear from the depths of her throat. It’s like a drug. No mushroom could ever make them feel as insane as this moment.
One hand starts exploring skin, diving under Rhonda’s poncho. Quinn remembers everything that’s happened and breaks the kiss for a bit to whisper, “Is this okay?”
Rhonda feels rough digits against her sides and swallows. She process it, the touch against her bare skin. Checks on her body, how it’s reacting. Remembers that this is Quinn. Rhonda nods, kisses them again.
Braver than ever, Quinn caresses smooth skin, one palm fully against her side, another following suit. Rhonda sighs, hands moving into Quinn’s hair, pulling them closer still. She leans back as much as she can. The wood from the piano frame digs into her back uncomfortably, but it keeps her aware. Rhonda thinks that her first time in the afterlife needs a little awareness.
Rhonda’s mouth slides across Quinn’s jaw, down their neck. She needs to swallow them whole, make them hers. The thought is scary. How much does she actually like Quinn? She was so full of bravado when she saw herself in the bathroom mirror, pretty and powerful, ready to get what she wanted and fluster Quinn in the process. It’s fun to flirt. It makes her feel invincible when she’s wanted, but to want them back this bad is quite frankly terrifying. Rhonda feels fire in her loins and the room grows way too hot suddenly.
Quinn reaches Rhonda’s shoulder blades under the poncho and freezes when they notice she’s not wearing a bra.
They groan and laugh all at once. “You came really prepared, huh?”
A smile against their neck, and Rhonda pulls back to smirk. “I never half ass anything, babe.”
The pet name gets to Quinn.
Tentatively, Quinn moves their touch to Rhonda’s front. They try their best not to shake, but it’s clear how clumsy the touch feels when Rhonda’s skin goes from firm ribs to soft underboob. Rhonda gasps softly and Quinn removes their hand immediately.
“Sorry! Sorry—”
“No, it’s not that,” Rhonda laughs, nerves getting to her as well. “That was a good reaction, I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quinn,” Rhonda’s voice is hoarse and low and, – Quinn knows that now is not the time, but – so sexy, “I’ll let you know when to stop, okay? I’m… relearning all this, too.” She leans back in to give a devious lick to Quinn’s earlobe. “Now grab my fucking tits before I explode.”
“Yes, ma’am.” With their orders in hand, Quinn finally touches Rhonda where she wants.
They’re soft. Softer than Quinn’s. They never realized how different breasts could be, not really caring much for their own. A squeeze gets another wonderful sound out of Rhonda, and Quinn learns everything that makes the girl in front of her tick. It’s fascinating and hot all at once, having someone so sensitive in their hands like this. In time, Quinn might even learn to tease Rhonda back, be bolder with their words. Their circumstances suddenly feel so unfair. Quinn wants to devote their afterlife to make Rhonda happy like this, every single day.
The thought makes them snap. The girl they might be utterly in love with is here, begging them to touch her, and Quinn has been holding back. Rhonda trusts this part of herself to them; the least Quinn can do is cherish it.
“Lean back,” Quinn is the one who asks now. Rhonda blinks, surprised, but does as she’s told. Hands on the hem of her poncho, Quinn looks in her eyes. “I’m going to take this off now.”
Rhonda’s gaze goes dark. She lifts her arms at the same time as Quinn pulls the whole thing off. Off, off, off, they need to see Rhonda right now, immediately.
It takes their breath away.
Milky skin, curves in all the right places. Rhonda has moles. Quinn’s eyes study her for a long, intense moment.
It’s almost enough to make Rhonda shy.
“Like what you see?” She asks in a breath to regain some control of the situation.
Quinn doesn’t answer. Instead they get close, almost in slow motion, and dip their head to kiss one of Rhonda’s moles right above her chest. Another on her shoulder. Then lower, going down her stomach. Every mole a new kiss, and Rhonda just watches with her arms holding her up on the piano as Quinn descends, lower and lower still.
She throbs in her pants, underwear ruined for a while now, but getting worse as Quinn goes on. Whatever happened to make them change attitude was enough to make Rhonda’s heart run a marathon.
“Quinn…” A plea.
Quinn looks back up, mouth on Rhonda’s bellybutton. Rhonda laughs, ticklish. Quinn smiles. Everything feels very silly suddenly. Silly, and lovely, and normal. Quinn hasn’t felt normal in a while.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Quinn admits in a vulnerable moment. “But I want to make you feel good. And safe, and happy.” With hands on the buttons of her pants, they ask, “Can I?”
And it’s at that moment that Rhonda realizes: she would say yes to anything Quinn asked of her.
“Yes,” So, she does, fighting the lump in her throat. Crying during sex would be so lame. “Yes, I trust you.”
Quinn smiles and the pants are off easily. Rhonda kicks them away, and they fall right on the couch. The two of them laugh again, Quinn makes a little joke, Rhonda caresses their hair and asks for a kiss before Quinn’s hand is sliding over her underwear, finding the sweet spot. A tease, foreplay, fingers finally touching wetness. Rhonda bucking her hips, a moan dripping from her lips. Quinn going slow, circling, trying to emulate what they do to themselves. Rhonda grabbing their wrist at some point to adjust, explaining what she likes. Quinn learning Rhonda. Finding her spot and making Rhonda see stars as the motion continues on top of the piano. Rhonda muffling her voice against Quinn’s neck, her legs shaking, Quinn’s hand cramping but refusing to stop. Rhonda getting close, finding pleasure after six centuries of trauma deprived her of connection, realizing that she can let go and enjoy this if it’s with the right person, someone she trusts, someone she cherishes, someone she—
It comes in waves, Rhonda’s legs tightening around Quinn’s waist and they kiss, small shivers keeping them there. Then, it subsides. Slowly. Quinn stops and removes her hand, both of them breathing heavily against each other.
It takes a moment for Rhonda to come back down to earth. Part of her just doesn’t want to let go of Quinn’s embrace, strong and comforting, so she stays there. Quinn lets her stay there for as long as she wants.
With a deep breath, Rhonda finally looks up. Quinn is smiling at her, goofy and nervous all over again. Her chest swells and her heart tips over.
Oh, so that’s what this is.
The moon is high in the sky when Rhonda learns to love again.
--
A few hours later, Rhonda finds herself completely naked with an equally bare Quinn in her arms, lying down on the couch of the music room. Music plays in the background record player. She toys with Quinn’s hair, tying one finger around their locks. Their bodies are intertwined, and Rhonda’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Her muscles had forgotten that configuration.
“So, let’s rate it.” Quinn speaks in a low voice. “From one to ten.”
Rhonda laughs, “Don’t even start.”
“I think I did pretty good. On that third time, anyway. The first one didn’t count.”
“Sure as hell did,” Rhonda pokes their ear and Quinn flinches. “You were a pro.”
“Absolutely not,” Quinn grabs her hand and places a kiss on her knuckles. “It was the worst one. I learned fast, though, right? Come on.”
“You can work your fingers, that’s for sure.” Rhonda caresses Quinn’s ankle with her own.
“Aha,” A victorious grin. “I knew joining band was going to help me in the future.”
And Rhonda breaks. Her laughter is loud and bubbly, coming from a place of pure joy. The chemicals in her brain dance around her head, the afterglow casting a perfect shadow on her heart and she can’t believe things can be so good when they were so bad.
When Rhonda is done laughing, she looks at Quinn and sees her whole future.
And finally, she spills her heart out.
“I love you.”
Whatever Quinn replies is for her, and her alone to hear.