[Disclaimer] SM owns everything Twilight; I just borrow her characters to have some fun. Maybe one day, I'll have my own characters to play with. Wouldn't that be awesome?

[A/N] I wrote this story as a one-shot but figured out that I'd like to explore the subject of Coming Out a little deeper. Don't expect too much, because I don't know where I'm going to take this. Creativity is a crazy thing and you never know where it goes...

**I can't think straight**

I sipped on the white wine in front of me, desperately trying to look as if I belonged into this place, when sure as hell I knew that I didn't. My hands grabbed around the plastic cup. Jeez, they served wine in plastic cups. When was the last time you drank wine out of a cup instead of a glass? Was that on college maybe?

It was cold inside the club and I wished that I had chosen to wear jeans and a sweater instead of the dress. I pulled the tiny mirror out of my handbag and checked my reflection. My makeup was okay, although I should probably have put on some more concealer. The dark circles under my eyes were still visible.

"You're pretty vain, aren't you?" a light voice next to me asked me, making me drop the entire content of my bag on the floor.

I kneeled down to grab it again, thankful for the long curtain of my hair that would hopefully manage to hide my embarrassed blush.

"I didn't startle you, did I?" the voice asked again and after taking a deep breath I finally dared to look up to see to whom the bell-like voice belonged.

She had short hair that was arranged into messy spikes with a lot of hairspray. Her pale skin formed a beautiful contrast to the ruby colored top she was wearing and when a wave of the cold wind reached us from the opening door her nipples pebbled under the thin layer of fabric.

I forced myself to look at her face, knowing that it would be completely rude and inappropriate to keep starring at her breasts for too long.

She stood up from her chair, leaning down to help me grab the dozens of tiny items. Yes, I carry one of those bags, that you could spontaneously leave the country with, around me all the time.

It's embarrassing and being here is even more embarrassing. Damn it, what the hell do you think you're doing here, Isabella?

"Sorry," the dark haired girl whispered. She handed me my cell and I stuffed it back quickly before I stood up again.

"I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." she continued after a few awkward moments of silence, taking a sip from the bottle of diet coke in front of her. I wondered how old she was. She wasn't drinking, that probably meant she's underage. No that couldn't be, could it?

"Aren't you going to talk to me? It would really help to improve this conversation if you would make a verbal response to what I'm saying."

"Conversation?" I managed to croak out hoarsely. God, I'm sounding like a complete idiot.

"When two people talk that's usually called a conversation. Look, if I'm not your type, you can just tell me and I leave you alone. It's just that…,"

"Your type?"

Her mouth curved into a smile, exposing a row of milky-white teeth. She took another sip from the bottle in front of her, while her eyes, their color a brown that was a few shades lighter than mine, moved up and down my body.

"Yes, you're my type, apart from your lack of verbal abilities."

"Sorry," I mumbled so low that my voice is barely audible.

"I'm just so nervous and I don't really know what to say. I've never been to a place like this."

"That's your first time in a gay club, really? And how do you like it so far?"

I sighed and emptied the cup of wine, before I twisted my hair into a knot at the back of my neck.

"Honestly? I don't know what came over me tonight, but I don't feel like I belong here. This is not who I am."

"Probably because this is the crappiest club that you could have chosen for your...," she seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"…for your coming out,"

"Coming out? I don't need a stupid coming out." My voice raised two octaves, sounding way to shrill now in my own ears.

"Yeah, I get it. You're straight and you're only here to do some research for a good friend, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not. My friends don't know that I'm here tonight."

"Do you think, they would mind?"

"Yes, no…I don't really know. Look, I'm not some homophobic nerd, it's just…I am not that way."

She leaned over to me, her cool breathe tickling the exposed skin on my neck. I lowered my head what turned out to be a stupid idea for my eyes starred straight into her cleavage, giving me just enough sight of the black lace bra she was wearing underneath her shirt. It was enough to soak my panties; that and the thought of running my tongue over the edges of the thin material. Oh right, Isabella, keep telling yourself that you're not that way.

"So you're not that way." she whispered into my ear, before she leaned back again.

"I'm not that way." I repeat halfheartedly, biting my lower lip nervously.

"It's okay, you know…to have these feelings about other women. I bet you've fantasized about being with one for weeks, haven't you?"

Weeks? More like years…God, I'm so pathetic. What in heaven's name is wrong with me?

"Having fantasies about other women doesn't make me a lesbian."

"And would that be a bad thing if it did? Call yourself curious, call yourself bi or call yourself a dyke. Whatever you call your desires, it doesn't change who you are. It doesn't change you, because whatever name you put on your orientation, your body language shows it pretty well that you hunger for my touch. That your body craves the pleasures I can give it."

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly felt too dry to speak and I reached for the cup, realizing that it was empty when I tried to take a sip.

She chuckled and shoved her bottle over to me. The coke was lukewarm and the artificial sugar in it left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.

"Can I buy you another drink?"

"No, thanks, I should better leave now, it's already late."

"Is your husband waiting for you at home?"

Why does her voice sound so hurt now? Does she think I came here to cheat on someone? Damn it, Isabella, it doesn't matter at all what she thinks or doesn't think. You won't see her again – ever.

"I don't have a husband or a boyfriend or a…girlfriend."

"Neither have I." she told me cheerfully, before she pulled out a chapstick that made her full lips shine in the awful neon light that surrounded us.

"So, since you and I are both…not bound to anyone else, we could leave this lame excuse of a club and make the best of the rest of this night."

I didn't know if it was the wine or the fact that something like an electric current went through my entire body when her leg brushed against my bare thigh but somehow I managed to nod my head in response.

When we walked over the parking lot I realized how small she was, small and breakable and yet way stronger than I would possibly ever be.

"Wait," she told me when I fumbled for the car keys in the depth of my handbag.

"There is something that I need to do before we…," she whispered, putting he arms around my neck. It was the first time she touched me on purpose and I couldn't help but smile at the thought.

What a weird situation. What a weird night. What a…

My inner monologue was suddenly silenced by the feeling of her warm mouth on mine. I gasped, more in surprise than for air but she nonetheless used the opportunity to plug her tongue into my mouth. For a split second I stiffened, this was new and I didn't have a clue what she expected me to do now. Then the part of my brain that was usually responsible for my actions went on standby modus. I stopped thinking, thinking had no place here. This was all about feeling…and tasting. God, she tasted sweet, like coke and strawberry chapstick and light. She tasted so light and the way her lips moved with mine was so light. Her hands moved down my back, while I nudged the tip of my tongue against her plump bottom lip. It felt smooth like velvet underneath it.

So this is it how it feels like to kiss a woman?

She pulled back, much too soon for my liking. I didn't want her to stop kissing me. I didn't want to stop kissing her.

"Your place or mine?" she whispered, moving her hand up my bare forearms.

People don't actually use that line anymore, do they? Damn it, it doesn't matter. You should just answer her question, Isabella. Your place? Definitely not, what would Charlie think if I showed up in the middle of the night with a girl? No, he wouldn't think anything bad about that because she's a girl. But still…


I raised one eyebrow, when she called me by my name and realized that I didn't have a clue what hers was. How did she know mine?

"How do you know my name?" I asked her, holding my breath when her dainty fingertips reached the sensitive spot right beneath my hairline.

"It's on your key ring."

"Oh, I see. Do you want to tell me yours?" I whispered, leaning back against the hood of the car.

She smiled again, and there was something about the way her lips twitched into that smile that made me melt from the inside out.

"My name is Alice."

"Like Alice in Wonderland?"

She giggled.

"Welcome to the other side of the looking glass, Bella."

With that she kissed me again. This time I didn't hesitate to response, my tongue nudged against hers and a low moan escaped my throat when she sucked my upper lip between her teeth to nibble on it.

"Your place or mine?" she whispered against my trembling mouth when she pulled back again. Her lips moved down my collarbone, leaving a trail of invisible flames wherever her mouth touched my skin.

Somehow I managed to open the door of the car and sat down on the passenger's seat.

Without thinking what I was doing I pulled her on my lap. She giggled and cupped my face between her hands.

"The car? You want to do it in the car; never thought that you'd be that type of girl."

"I don't really know what kind of girl, I'm supposed to be." I told her, fighting the urge to bury my face between her breasts. I bet her soft skin tastes salty on my tongue. Damn it, Isabella, try to act like you're not a complete moron who has no clue what is okay to do or not.

"You can be any kind of girl that you want to be, Bella."

"Which kind of girl do you want me to be?" I asked her, reaching out my hand to stroke over the exposed skin on her flat stomach.

"One that gives into what she needs to be happy…emotionally…physically…or however."

"Alice, I've already told you that…,"

"Shh," she whispered, putting a finger against my lips to silence me.

Her other hand moved between my thighs, where I was already slick and warm. My body is such a traitor, he knows all the secrets of my heart, all my longings, all my desires and he was responding to her touch, making it obvious that I wanted her in a way that I shouldn't want her.

Her fingertips stroked over the cotton fabric of my panties and I wondered what she was going to think when she felt how damp the thin material already was.

She kissed my mouth again, exploring the inside of it tenderly while her fingers rubbed up and down my slit in feather light movements.

"Touch me, Bella." She whispered hoarsely, guiding my hands to her breasts. I cupped them into my palms. They were small but perfectly shaped and when I pulled down her shirt to feel them without any clothing the tiny nubs hardened instantly under my caress.

I leaned forward to suckle one of the tips like a hungry infant while her hand moved under my ruined underwear.

"So wet, so incredibly warm and wet." she murmured against the crock of my neck while I pressed my lips against each other to keep me from moaning out like a whore.

Her thumb circled over the tiny pearl above my entrance before she dipped two of her fingers into my wetness.

"You thought about that before, didn't you? How it would feel like to be touched by another woman like that."

I nodded my head and whimpered slightly when she started pumping her fingers in and out of my entrance in a painfully slow rhythm.

"Tell me. Did you ever touch yourself, when you did that? Did you made yourself come while you thought about the way how a tongue would explore every single fold between your legs, licking up every drop of your essence?"

"Yes," I confessed, wondering if she would be able to hear me speak at all.

She lowered her head and disappeared underneath my dress. I held my breath when I felt the tip of her tongue against my swollen, overheated flesh. Then she licked over the throbbing pearl of my clit and I cried out in pleasure, bucking my hips against her tongue that continued circling up and down my slick folds.

My hands twisted into the spikey curls of her hair, as if I was afraid that she would suddenly pull back from me. It didn't happen. Instead she curled the fingers inside of me, rubbing them against the sensitive spot deep inside of me. My entire body went ridged, my toes curled and then finally, finally the sweet release of my climax washed over me, slowly at first but then way stronger than I had ever felt it before.

"Beautiful." she whispered when she raised her head again, to plant open mouthed kisses all over my collarbone.

"You're gorgeous."

Her mouth found mine again, letting me taste the tartness of my own lust. No, it wasn't really tart, more like sweet…or no, it was tart, the sweet component in it was her. Or it wasn't? Maybe somehow in a wondrously way they had melted into one.