"Can I come home with you?" Amy asks Karma after the dance. "I know I said that sticking it to my mom felt good and everything, but I'm kind of nervous to go home-"

"Are you kidding?" Karma says, swinging Amy's hand as they walk across the parking lot. "You know you don't have to ask."

They get back to Karma's house late. Karma's parents spring up from their floor cushions, their eyes bright with excitement. "Oh, our little Sapphic sweethearts, how did everything go tonight?" Karma's mom asks.

"Great, Mom, all shooting stars and rainbows," Karma says flatly, tugging Amy past the family room.

"Have fun snuggling!" Karma's mom calls. "I'll bring you some yerbe mate in a minute!"

Karma shuts her bedroom door and spreads her back and arms against it like she's protecting a castle under siege. "They are seriously the weirdest people ever," she says with her eyes on the ceiling. "I don't know how I came from them."

"You're pretty weird yourself," Amy says. "Besides-their weirdness is kind of nice right now. At least they're not crying because they think you're a lesbian."

Karma fixes her with an empathetic look. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be sorry. I'm glad my mom knows now. Even if I'm not a real lesbian, she should still be able to love me no matter what."

"I love you no matter what," Karma says, stepping toward her.

"I know," Amy says, holding onto her like she did at the dance just an hour ago. "I'm lucky."

As promised, Karma's mom delivers mugs of yerba mate for both of them. "I want you to know," she says, handing over their mugs like she's transferring delicate chi, "that your dad and I won't be interrupting you at any point tonight or tomorrow. This is a safe space and we want you to have the freedom to express your sexuality here. Lay around naked together and absorb the energy that comes from bare flesh. That's what your father and I did when we-"

"Mom," Karma says. "We get it. We'll get all hot and sweaty together, I promise. But can you please leave now?"

"I can actually feel the joy flowing forth from my hands," Karma's mom says, kissing their foreheads. "I'd always hoped one of my children would discover an alternative sexuality, but after Zen brought home that accountant girlfriend, I knew you were my only hope, Karma-"

"Mom."

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Ashcroft says, squeezing her hands together and bowing in their direction. "Sleep well, girls, and remember your dream catcher, Karma, okay?"

Then they're alone again, and Amy's brain is buzzing with the echo of Karma's voice saying hot and sweaty. The buzzing gets worse when Karma unzips her homecoming dress and drops it unceremoniously to the floor, so that she's now standing in nothing but a red thong and strapless bra. Amy doesn't know where to move her eyes: she has a strange urge to look away-but when have they ever been shy in front of each other's bodies before?-and to take in everything she can at the same time.

"What, are you gonna sleep in that dress and itchy cardigan?" Karma says, throwing Amy one of her threadbare t-shirts.

"This cardigan isn't itchy."

"It is absolutely itchy. My cheeks were scratchy the entire time we were dancing."

"Well why didn't you say something, then?"

Karma shrugs in-between pulling on her t-shirt. "Didn't care enough. I was having a nice time dancing with my girlfriend, so why ruin the moment?"

Amy smirks and tosses her cardigan at Karma's face. Karma squeals in an exaggerated way and throws the cardigan back at her. Amy's belly starts to hop with warm feelings-new feelings.

"Get changed, you itchy dork," Karma says, stepping toward the dresser to take off her jewelry.

Amy reaches back to unzip her dress but finds the zipper is stuck. She struggles for a short moment before Karma notices her in the mirror. "C'mere," Karma says, spinning her around and undoing the zipper herself. She drags the zipper down to the small of Amy's back and shimmies the dress off Amy's body, and Amy's insides heat up.

Karma spins Amy back around and tugs the threadbare t-shirt over her head. "You have the cutest little tummy," she says, pinching Amy's skin.

"Stop," Amy laughs.

"It's true," Karma says, leaning into her for a hug.

Amy holds her close, pressing her cheek into her hair. "Are you bummed about Liam?"

"Yeah," Karma exhales. "But I won't be for long. He'll fall in love with me soon enough."

Amy catches sight of herself in the mirror: her sad eyes, her dead expression. The image alarms her. She closes her eyes against Karma's hair.

"What's wrong?" Karma asks.

"Nothing. Can we just-let's just get in bed and watch The Food Network."

They burrow beneath Karma's sheets, and just like every other sleepover, Karma pats her own shoulder until Amy lays her head there. But this time, in a break from tradition, Karma kisses Amy's hair.

"I meant what I said earlier," she murmurs. "I'm proud of you for tonight."

Amy gives in to the feelings in her belly. She rolls over until she's half draped over Karma, her arm locking Karma away from Liam and Hester High and every other thing on the earth, at least for tonight.

"Thanks," she whispers, and then, surprising herself, she kisses Karma's cheek.

Karma's eyes flicker over to her, but she doesn't say anything about the kiss. "You need anything?" she says instead.

Amy is quiet for a moment, wondering. "Just hold me," she decides.

Karma squeezes her arm around Amy's back, holding her close, holding her where Amy wants to be.

Author's Note: More Faking It fics to follow. If you liked this, check out my original novel (link in profile).