History was probably one of Fiona's least favorite classes, and it was made bearable only because Imogen and Eli were in the class as well. She felt like she could make it through the next year of Mr. Demars's droning on about the Red River Rebellion and Prince Edward Island and whatever else he had to talk about, but two weeks into the year their teacher was already assigning them a project, and Fiona wondered if it was too late to just drop out of school altogether.
"Alright, now find yourselves a partner," Demars called out, and Fiona didn't even have to look for one before Imogen's hand landed on her forearm.
"Found mine!" she called cheerfully, Eli and Adam pairing up on the other side of the room and already talking animatedly about the subject of their project (probably something that had a lot of guns, Fiona guessed).
Demars passed around a sheet of paper to document the groups so that he could come up with an appropriate schedule for presentations. Just as he was finishing up, Drew Torres raced into the classroom. "Sorry I'm late! I was, uh, talking to the coach."
Even Imogen had to roll her eyes at that lame excuse, but Demars merely raised his eyes to scan the groups. When his gaze lingered just a little too long on Fiona and Imogen, Fiona started to pray that he didn't choose them to stick Drew with. Any other group but them. Eli and Adam, maybe, or those two girls over there who always laughed fakely at whatever Drew said.
"Fiona, Imogen, you wouldn't mind having Drew in your group, would you?"
Dammit. "Of course not, Mr. Demars!" Imogen was all too happy to add another person to the group, and Drew took his seat next to them, pulling his bag over his head and introducing himself like they didn't already know him.
Fiona crossed her arms on her desk and propped her chin on them, sighing.
"When did you tell Drew to get here?" Imogen asked, twirling around Fiona's coffee table and flopping gracefully down onto the couch. She picked up one of the magazines on the table and began to flip through it, waiting for Fiona to come back from whatever section of the loft she was in.
"I think seven. Is that okay?" Fiona appeared from the kitchen with two waters in her hands, giving one to Imogen before sitting down next to her. She glanced over Imogen's shoulder and pointed to one of the pages. "Spring 2012, Paris, the new Fendi line. I wish I could afford it," she said wistfully, twisting off the cap to the water.
"Money situation still not any better?" Imogen asked sympathetically, putting her water and the magazine down on the coffee table and leaning back against the curve of the couch. Fiona shook her head, capping the water and placing it next to Imogen's.
"Not at all. My mom says any day now, but who really knows?"
Imogen shrugged her shoulders, feeling a little helpless. Fiona checked her phone and brightened suddenly before tossing it on the coffee table. "So, it's only six thirty."
Fiona let her eyes roam up Imogen's body before meeting her eyes again, and when she spoke her voice was decidedly more husky. "So we've got half an hour before Drew is coming over."
Imogen smirked, pushing off the back of the couch enough to take a fistful of Fiona's shirt and pull her back on top of herself. "I think we can do a lot in half an hour," she murmured before kissing Fiona, letting go of her shirt and finding the bottom of it instead, her hands slipping under it and skating over Fiona's skin, causing the older girl to shiver.
Drew knocked on the door again, checking his watch. He was ten minutes early, but that was the only time his mom would drop him off and he figured that Fiona and Imogen wouldn't have minded too much. They had to have been there, because they knew he was coming. Finally, with a sigh, he tried the door, surprised to find it unlocked. Hesitantly he stepped inside, glancing around at the place. It looked a bit bare, but there was no doubt that Fiona came from money.
He could hear faint voices coming from his left, he thought, so he followed them, turning a corner and very nearly falling over in shock.
Fiona and Imogen were on the couch, engaged in what looked like a very heavy make out session, with Fiona's shirt unbuttoned and one of Fiona's hands somewhere underneath all the tulle in Imogen's skirt.
"Shit!" Drew hadn't meant to speak but the second he did the two girls jumped apart, trying to look like they hadn't just been walked in on. Fiona spoke first, holding her shirt together and sounding pissed.
"Drew! What are you doing in here?"
"I just - I - the door - and - I - " he stuttered, his brain not even forming coherent sentences just then. He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry when he saw Imogen trying to surreptitiously hook her bra again without him seeing.
"Drew, go wait outside."
"I - "
He slunk outside, sitting across from her door and waiting for them to come and get him. It took him only a few seconds before the reality of the situation hit him and he grinned, pulling out his phone and texting Adam. Yeah, Adam had had a thing with Fiona, but his brother would appreciate this as much as Drew was.
"Did that just happen?"
"Imogen, why is there a button missing on my blouse?"
"Sorry, I got impatient," she explained, a little sheepish. Fiona just rolled her eyes and took the shirt off entirely, walking into her bedroom to find a new one. Imogen followed her, biting her lip. "What are we going to do about Drew?"
It took Fiona a minute or two to answer. "What do you mean?" She finally pulled out another blouse, holding it up to the mirror and then taking it off the hanger.
"He did just kind of walk in on us making out, Fi. Won't it be awkward now?"
Fiona waved her hand, pulling her shirt over her head. "Just pretend it didn't happen. I'm sure he will, too, and we'll just get through this project and then we can go back to what we were doing."
She winked at Imogen and then kissed her on the cheek before exiting the room.
Imogen sighed. The perks of having a girlfriend with a loft all to herself.