2-1 Combo

Author note: This is my entry for YAY TEAM: The Sex & Sports Author Organized Challenge 2025.

"Eat my fucking pussy-" Belle began, pulling off the finishing move while I was reeling from her last attack, "-bitch!"

On screen, Tiffany arced through the air upside down and backwards, crashing her heels into Bruce's face in a split second. He went down, a lump of useless muscle, and the game screeched "Total Brain Smash!' at us, signifying that Tiffany had won without taking a single hit.

"Fuck that," I replied, chucking my controller down. I was annoyed that I'd lost because I was competitive, but I wasn't angry, and the throw was more of a performance gesture to accept the loss gracelessly.

Belle cackled happily while the screen showed Tiffany, her fighter, posing over Bruce's motionless body and flexing her gigantic undead thighs as she relentlessly bounced from foot to foot.

"Another round?" the game announcer asked.

Since Belle was still holding her controller, she used muscle memory to navigate out of the match and back to the main menu. "Ghoul Dueller..." the announcer said now, like he always did on the menu, and the logo flashed up. Underneath it the name of the developer, TKO Games, was displayed prominently.

"What's for dinner, then?" I asked, resigned to it.

"Star Burger. I didn't think I was that hungry, but pounding the fuck out of you has really worked up an appetite," Belle said happily, putting her controller down and picking up her water bottle from the floor.

"Fuck off. I knew you'd pick the expensive option."

"Then you shouldn't have made the bet. You're always whinging and trying to get out of them."

"No I'm not. I just resent being screwed over by you. You know the Tiffany-Bruce matchup isn't balanced in this patch."

"You had free pick of any character. You chose Bruce. This is entirely on you, Caitlin."

Infuriatingly she was right, so I dropped the topic. It had been a bone of contention between us that my main pick in Ghoul Dueller, Bruce Iato, was underpowered since the last patch from TKO a week ago. I'd been playing as Bruce since literally the first week the game was released and I wasn't going to give up on him, but it had made our friendly games unpleasantly one-sided. I always felt like I was just one more game away from working out how to win with Bruce, whilst fervently hoping that a patch to correct the balance would be released as soon as possible. Particularly because it was Varsity against Herkensford University at the weekend.

"I messaged Grant at TKO again," I said, picking up my phone and absent-mindedly checking for notifications, even though I knew I didn't have any. "Bruce's winrate is down to like, thirty-five percent. It's shit. He said there's something coming soon."

"It's complete bullshit, I agree," Belle replied, a rare admission from her that my poor performance was down to the game's balance and not individual talent. "Even Phoebe reckons so. But Grant is always saying everything is coming soon.""

I snorted because Belle was right. "I'll go down to TKO's offices and fuck them up. If this screws up Varsity for me I'll not be answerable for my actions."

An expansion of Ghoul Dueller's original six-character roster had been promised for a year, but TKO was a small team and barely had time to keep up with the game, let alone expand it. Grant, who was their community relations manager and bug-tester, was a nice guy and usually did his best to help. And in any case, it was an empty threat: I was a five foot four inch twenty-one year old who spent nearly all of her free time playing or talking about playing a computer game. Bruce might beat the shit out of opponents on-screen, but in real life I would struggle to throw a decent punch.

Belle grinned at me. "I hope they never fix this so I can keep booting you up the arse and getting you to buy my dinner."

Maybe I should learn to throw that punch, so I could punch Belle.

"Whatever. It's unfair. It's shit. Life's shit. What burger do you want?" I asked, opening the food delivery app.

"Triple Tropical, chips, jumbo dip, and, uh, I suppose diet lemonade," she rattled off instantly.

A triple burger was going to cost a fortune; it was practically the most expensive order you could make. With anyone else, I'd be telling them to stick it. But Belle and I were best friends going back years: we'd actually met on a chat channel dedicated to Ghoul, when I'd read a two-page tirade she'd written about why Tiffany's aerial combo was underpowered. For some reason I'd actually admired this random internet weirdo's dedication to an extremely niche topic. We'd spent our last year of school on voice chat most nights, massacring opponents online, and then both applied for Beckfield Uni because it had an esports team that played competitive fighting games.. No other reason, which, in hindsight, was insane. I blame my parents for not stopping me. In any case, we'd had adjacent rooms in the hall of residence when we were freshers and our remote gaming sessions had become in-person for the past two and a half years. And whatever the topic at hand was, whether it was who was buying dinner or who was cleaning the bathroom, it was always decided by Ghoul.

"Fine," I said quickly, scrolling around to find Star Burger and then entering her order, pretending I couldn't see the ridiculous cost. I added a single Tropical burger for myself, since it was the best thing at Star Burger, then dragged myself up off the sofa.

"Better ask Phoebe if she wants in," I said, hearing Belle grunt a response at me as she picked up her controller again.

The only other person at Beckfield who understood our obsession was Phoebe, who made up the third person in the three-bedroom house we rented even though she was a year older than us. She was Captain of our esports team and a genius at Ghoul: she mained Hashadaphut XI, an Egyptian mummy character colloquially known as 'Hash'. Generally everyone disliked playing as Hash because his damage output was low and he had an extremely high skill ceiling. Phoebe had thoroughly shattered that ceiling.

"Phoebe, you streaming?" I asked through her bedroom door after knocking.

"Not right now," she replied.

I opened the door. "We're getting Star Burger, you want in? I'm paying."

She was in the middle of an online game of Ghoul, her fingers whirling over the controller, so she didn't pause it, just pushed one headphone off her ear. "Lost to Belle again, right?"

"It's the fucking balance," I said, getting annoyed all over again. "The last patch really fucked Bruce up. His blocks are too slow now, and even with perfect prediction you still get destroyed by the combos. I got Total Brain Smashed."

Phoebe didn't respond, still focused on the game in front of her, her long, straight black hair arranged neatly over her shoulder, away from her headphones. "Bad luck," she replied, the corner of her mouth turning up.

"Fuck off. Burger or not?"

"Just get me some chips."

Belle and I were both envious of how Phoebe managed to spend almost all day sitting in front of Ghoul and still kept her slim, boyish figure. For us two, having a sedentary hobby meant regular time in the gym on top of uni lectures and homework assignments, otherwise we were prone to attacks of the wobbly thighs.

I confirmed the order on the app and rejoined Belle on the sofa.

"Rematch?" she suggested as I picked up my controller. "You should really pick someone other than Bruce."

"Then you pick someone other than Tiffany," I told her.

"Alright."

We called these types of games, where we were using different characters to our usual mains, 'left-hand' matches. Because it felt as if you were using your left hand to do something; everything was similar but slightly off. Neither of us were any good at using Hashadaphut, and I wasn't going to copy Belle with Tiffany, which left three other characters to choose from. Countess Sylvan was a tall, thin vampire who could spend a long time in the air and could restore her health by draining the opponent's. Chef Fatso was almost the exact opposite: he could hardly jump, but his attacks did the most damage in the game. Finally there was Cullector, an ethereal skeletal ghost who could disappear and reappear in a different part of the screen. I hadn't mastered Cullector's ability yet so I grabbed Chef Fatso, and Belle, probably thinking similarly, picked the Countess.

"I can barely remember any of the combos," Belle said as the stage loaded.

"Already making excuses," I teased and she shot me a dark look.

There were a handful of Ghoul players who specialised in being good all-rounders who could use any character. I envied them in a way as I sent Fatso moving clumsily around the screen, unable to catch the Countess who could move much more quickly. But she would have to attack eventually. I longed for the sweet movements of Bruce, spotting opening after opening that I couldn't take advantage of.

"Screw this," Belle muttered under her breath, finally closing the gap and unleashing a kick. Fatso blocked quickly and I pivoted into a counter, vaguely remembering a combo and beginning to input it. The Countess was too fast, though, parrying and jumping backwards to exit the engagement.

"Oh come on," I complained through gritted teeth, trying unsuccessfully to close the gap as the Countess soared overhead, reversing the direction I was desperately lunging. She had fractionally more health remaining than Fatso and I was getting frustrated.

"On one hand," Belle began saying, backing away yet further, "I don't want to play a long, drawn-out game to run down the timer."

"And on the other?" I asked, advancing with Fatso, blocking two ranged attacks the Countess sent my way.

"On the other, I really don't want to lose to you," she said, waiting until I was tantalisingly close to making contact before going out of range in another series of jumps. I was waiting this time, though, and sent up an aerial attack to intercept her, a laugh already forming on my lips because she'd left her dodging too long. But Belle had been playing Ghoul just as long as I had and anticipated my attack perfectly, hanging back to let it pass harmlessly.

"Fuck!" I said, desperately chasing her down as Belle laughed.

"Too slow, like always," she taunted.

"This is why I hate playing against you. We're both too competitive and it doesn't go anywhere," I said, going for a ranged assault that Belle neatly leapfrogged.

"I wish I could remember the combos," Belle said, inching closer to Fatso before losing her nerve and pulling back.

I paused the game. "Two minute break to check the combos?" I proposed.

"Alright," Belle said, dropping her controller and grabbing her phone.

An instant later, I unpaused the game and closed in for the kill as Belle yelled obscenities at me, scrambling around to grab her controller again. She was too slow, and Fatso's barrage of heavy punches against the helpless Countess built up damage. When Belle finally managed to chain a series of blocks and jumps and get away, she had a sliver of health remaining and realised it was over anyway. She dropped the controller and let me finish it with a ranged attack.

"Brain Smash!" the announcer intoned as the chef wobbled his unhealthy grey skin over to the camera and leered.

"Cheater," Belle said simply.

"Too bad. We'd have been playing that match for ages," I said, cancelling the remaining rounds and returning to the main menu.

"Remind me never to play another left-hand match. It's like a completely different game when I'm not playing Tiffany," Belle said as the game announced for the millionth time: "Ghoul Dueller..."

"We've got time until the food arrives," I said, checking my phone. "One more match?" I barely needed to look at the screen to enter versus mode and select Bruce.

"One more match," Belle said, smiling at me. I'd heard those words from her so many times that they comforted me, in a way.

If I had one regret in life, it was economics. As a teenager I'd been suckered in by rumours of highly-paid jobs and astronomical bonuses and definitely thought I could see myself getting some of that. The reality of studying the subject, though, was interminable essays about modelling growth in American mid-caps or micro-analysis of consumer habits during periods of economic upswing or God who cares please kill me and spare me from this madness.

"When we consider the incentives of positive corporate governance policies, it is important to discern where these differ from disincentives of negative corporate governance policies," the lecturer said, his words barely penetrating the grey soup that my brain felt like the next morning. One more match between Belle and I had turned into a burger-and-bad-romance-movie-marathon, which had reverted back to Ghoul when we got bored of the movie. Several matches later it was way past midnight and I still hadn't made the breakthrough with Bruce. Now I felt tired in a way that coffee didn't seem to have helped.

I idly scribbled in my notebook to check my pen was still working. For some reason, even though the economics was failing to make an impact, I did have room to think about Ghoul. There was still no sign of the balance patch and with Varsity coming up fast, I needed to make a decision between sticking with Bruce or attempting a last-minute switch. Putting it in economic terms, I needed to evaluate whether I could produce more value from an underpowered Bruce or a hastily-learnt alternative. As things stood, I'd lost essentially every game using Bruce against Belle or Phoebe. Herkensford Uni didn't have any female players in our league, but could they beat me if I was stuck using a character who struggled to win a third of his games at the highest level of competition?

As this debate raged in my head, I dimly began to realise that I hadn't listened to a word of the lecture and might as well have stayed in bed. After briefly making a half-hearted effort to take some notes about boardroom direction and top-down culture, my phone buzzed with a text from Belle and I abandoned any pretence of paying attention.

Belle: Are you at a lecture? X

Caitlin: Unfortunately x

Belle: Want to meet at the gym? Xx

Caitlin: YES I def need to clear my head this morning

Belle: Need me to get you an energy drink?

Caitlin: I love you babe, yes please x

Belle: You can have the half-drunk one that's been under my bed all year

A nice quirk of the way the university treated esports was that, despite our 'sport' requiring no physical fitness whatsoever, we had access to the good gym in the sport complex, rather than having to share the ratty old one they let the general student population use. It was mostly empty when Belle and I got there late morning, with only the usual hardcore sportspeople there who were destined for professional careers in cricket or rowing or something like that.

I was right that doing some exercise would clear my head, and after an hour on the treadmill listening to hype tunes, I felt a lot more confident. Not about my prospects of a decent score in my exams, which were dismal at best. But I'd made up my mind that I needed to drop Bruce for the competition and spend my entire waking time between now and Varsity learning a new character.

Belle was looking at her workout stats on her phone when I interrupted her to tell her what I planned to do.

"Okay," she said thoughtfully, immediately closing the workout app and switching to the Ghoul reference guide we both had open almost permanently. "You'd better avoid Tiffany and Hash so our team doesn't have any common weaknesses."

I nodded. "You're right. I wondered about Cullector."

Belle skimmed through the winrate percentages on the website. "Cullector's doing well this patch. That's a decent idea."

"I think Cullector is most similar to Bruce in combos, too, which will probably help me develop muscle memory for them."

"That makes sense. And I think once you master the disappearing mechanic, the rest of its moves aren't too complicated. Listen, I've got like, one seminar this afternoon that I'll ditch if you want to spend the day sparring."

Despite her rough edges and the way she sometimes seemed to live to revel in my downfall, Belle always came through for me. I looked at her, her eyes still skimming the reference guide, and felt a weird urge to hug her. I wasn't insane, though, so I just smiled at her. When she wasn't looking.

"Hey," a male voice said, and I turned to look at who it was.

He was a tall guy with a mess of dark curls on the top of his head, his gym bag slung casually over one shoulder, like he was just stopping for a second on his way somewhere. The presence of two of his similar-looking mates made me suspicious.

"Hey," Belle deadpanned, much better at these situations than I was.

The guy looked meaningfully at her and then at me. "You two sisters?"

This wasn't the first time someone had made that mistake, but I really had no idea why it kept coming up. Belle and I did not look alike. We both had blonde hair which, since we were in the gym, we both had tied up in a similar way. And we were almost exactly the same height. And we just so happened to share the same bra size: not that this was something a random guy in the gym could possibly know. But in every other way, we were different. My skin was naturally much lighter than Belle's; she had brown eyes, mine were blue; our facial shapes were completely different; Belle had dimples, I didn't; I had naturally long eyelashes, Belle didn't... the list was endless. We didn't even sound alike.

I rolled my eyes as obviously as possible, while Belle opted for the sympathetic smile of someone who's just come across a particularly stupid breed of dog.

"Um, no, strangely enough, two people who do not look anything like each other are not actually related," she said sarcastically.

As expected, he reacted badly to this treatment. "You don't have to be a bitch about it; I was only asking."

Belle scoffed. "You weren't asking, you were perving. Now fuck off."

He adjusted his bag on his shoulder and looked like he was going to reply, but he thought better of it and sloped off, muttering to his friends.

Glancing over at Belle, I watched her watch them leave, then she looked at me and smirked.

"That was a shame, because his mate in the green jacket was fit as anything," she said, biting her lip.

"I didn't really look at his mates."

"You should have."

I let out a sigh and glanced around the gym to check nobody was close enough to overhear me.

"It's been so long since I got a really good railing," I complained to Belle, who nodded vigorously.

"I know, same here. Every time I seem to meet a guy he's either a dickhead or gay."

I giggled. "That's because you're with me. They see me and think: damn, she's a ten, and then you look like a three by comparison."

Belle looked outraged. "More like I look like an eleven by comparison. I've got the bigger tits."

"You have not."

"I have. My left one is the biggest."

"Yeah, but guys always go right."

"What the fuck are you on about? You're delusional."

"All I'm saying is that guys want two tits the same size. That's not delusional."

We realised we'd been talking too loud and were getting some looks from the handful of others in the gym.

"Let's go," Belle suggested. "You've got tons of practice to do. I'll text Phoebe and get her on board."

When we got back to the house, Phoebe was waiting in the living room, Ghoul already loaded onto the TV.

"I could tell that Belle's texts had an angry tone," she said, pointing to a neat pile of chocolate bars on the side table.

"Not angry about Ghoul," Belle said, taking the chocolate anyway. "Angry about the opposite sex."

Phoebe nodded mutely. In the years I'd known Phoebe, she'd never shown any interest in men or indeed in anyone from a romantic angle. If the conversation strayed too close to the topic of sex (which it frequently did with Belle and I) she usually sat quietly until the subject was changed.

"Another idiot making the 'are you sisters' comment," I explained.

"Do guys really think that if we were, we'd take one look at their skinny necks and jump into bed with them?" Belle asked nobody in particular.

"No idea what happens in their heads," I said.

"It would be a lot nicer if they could just not." Belle's mood seemed to be getting darker.

"Anyway," I said, changing the topic and getting a tiny grateful smile from Phoebe, "Cullector. I need to be top of my game before Varsity."

Belle and I sat down on the sofa either side of Phoebe. Belle tucked her legs up under her and began looking at her phone, while I picked up a controller as Phoebe did the same. The fuzzy comfortable feeling of being with my friends doing my favourite thing returned. Phoebe was my opponent, since she was the best at the game, while Belle fed me information about using Cullector and acted as a kind of tactical consultant. Of course, Phoebe was too good with Hash to ever be beaten, and even if I managed to pull off a decent combo or get past her defences, she'd recover and leave Cullector in a crumpled heap of black cloak every time.

"Brain smash!"

...

"Brain smash!"

...

"Brain smash!"

Hours passed as I slowly but surely made progress. It was nowhere near as good as playing as my one true love, Bruce, but Cullector wasn't bad. Phoebe had infinite patience, playing rematch after rematch, while Belle eventually got bored once I'd memorised all the combinations and wandered off to the kitchen to make dinner.

It was while we were watching some trashy video that Belle had found, all of us sitting in silence and eating her best efforts at scrambled egg on toast, that all three of our phones got a simultaneous notification.

"Weird," Belle said, putting down her fork precariously on the edge of her plate and reaching for her phone just as I did the same thing.

It was from the Ghoul chat server we were all part of.

"You're joking," I said, my jaw dropping just as Belle began to cackle with happiness.

"Hmm?" Phoebe asked, still attacking her eggs.

"The fucking patch has just dropped," I said, ignoring Belle's mirth.

"Oh," she replied, gently putting her plate down on her knee and switching the TV back to Ghoul. It took a second, but the 'update available' message pinged up and Phoebe exited to the menu so it could install.

"The patch notes aren't out on the website yet," Belle said in between another mouthful of food. "I'm refreshing, but..."

"I'm not even mad," I said, refreshing exactly the same website Belle was. "If it means I can use Bruce again, I'm happy."

"You're a tiny bit mad," Belle teased. "All those hours of practice wasted..."

"Well, they might not be if the patch doesn't fix it," I added ominously.

The game beeped to confirm it had the patch installed, and as it restarted the patch notes arrived and Belle began reading them out.

"Stability blah blah, something about shaders, who cares, balance changes, here we are. Bruce: blocking window increased to-"

I almost didn't care about the milliseconds as I kissed my phone with happiness. "Yes! They actually listened to me!"

"Ready?" Phoebe asked calmly as she loaded up a new fight, nudging my controller.

I let my eggs get cold on the plate as I hurriedly wiped my hands on my shirt and jumped into the match, my whole body buzzing with excitement. And the buzz only got bigger and bigger as the fight went on: not only was Bruce back to top form, but the weeks of frustrating effort playing with him while he was underpowered meant that my skills were razor sharp.

"Fuck," Phoebe said, the word slipping out as I pinned Hash up against the edge of the stage and began a barrage of punches. She parried some of them, but while she did I hit a finisher combo and there was nothing else she could do.

"Brain smash!"

"YES!" I yelled, relief flooding through me. Belle applauded politely, her face giving away the fact that she was genuinely impressed; I'd actually managed to beat Phoebe.

"Maybe Bruce is overpowered now," Phoebe wondered out loud as the winning animation played on the screen, Hash crumbling to dust inside his bandages while Bruce flexed his biceps.

"It's about time if he is," I grinned.

"My turn," Belle said, taking Phoebe's controller. "You might be able to beat the weak, boring mummy, but I still think Tiffany's too much of a challenge."

I beat Belle three times in succession, then got overconfident and lost to Phoebe, who'd somehow managed to absorb the way Bruce played after the patch and countered it. But I didn't care (that much): I was riding high.

On the morning of Varsity, I actually felt properly nervous for the first time in a while. Probably since the previous year's Ghoul Nationals. Economics exams had nothing on this.

But as if to prove that nothing in life is ever simple, as soon as we arrived at the auditorium where the esports competitions were being held, team captain Phoebe immediately spotted a problem with the competition schedule.

"This says we're playing in the mixed bracket; it should be women's," she pointed out to the adjudicator, a greying woman in a trouser suit.

"Herkensford don't have a women's team," she countered.

"Then they should forfeit," Belle interjected loudly. "They said they had a women's team or we wouldn't have scheduled a women's bracket."

"No," the adjudicator said, acting annoyed. "It's always been scheduled as mixed."

"No it hasn't," Belle insisted. "It says in the rules it has to be single-genders, probably."

"I interpret the rules, thank you," the woman said, getting cross. "It's scheduled as mixed and you can compete or withdraw, up to you."

"Bullshit; if this was a traditional sport, you'd never let a mixed team compete against an all-female team," Belle said, but the swear word was all the adjudicator heard.

"That's a penalty strike against Beckfield for abusing an official," she announced, picking up her pen to make a note. "What's your name?"

I dreaded to think what the next words out of Belle's mouth were going to be, so I grabbed her arm and forcibly pulled her away, leaving Phoebe to smooth things over. "Come on," I said to her, feeling how tense she was. "It's stupid but what are we going to do?"

"It's worse than stupid," Belle added, but she seemed to realise that being pissed off wasn't going to solve anything. "We'll just fucking destroy their team anyway."

"Phoebe will know what to say," I said, still keeping my hand on her arm in case she decided to go back for round two. "Anyway, looks like we're playing in front of a packed crowd."

The auditorium was almost empty. Aside from a handful of people sitting near the front, whose matching uniforms gave them away as competitors, there were no more than five actual spectators.

"It's only the heats. There'll be more for the finals this evening," Belle said, tossing her hair back over her shoulders.

On the other side of the room were the Herkensford players, all wearing the deep red colours of the university in some form. Beckfield's colour was baby blue and white, which I thought looked cute but Belle hated. Our team uniform was football-style tops but we could wear whatever we liked aside from that, and Belle and I had opted for jean shorts, hers white and mine black. We knew from experience that the combination of spectators and gaming computers tended to make the environment quite warm.

Phoebe hurried over to join us after a minute, carrying printed schedules.

"She agreed to drop the penalty strike," she said to Belle as she handed the schedules to us. "But she still seems like a bitch, to be honest."

"A mixed bracket is such crap," Belle replied, but she was content to leave it at that. Right up until she looked at the schedule properly. "What the actual fuck: we're competing against an all-male team?"

"Belle-"

"No fucking way, I'm going back over to that shitty woman and I'm going to-"

"Belle, seriously, that's not going to do anything," I protested, but as usual, Phoebe had the final word.

"I think that the 'Jamie' on their team is actually a girl."

"Oh. Okay. But still, two guys. It feels unfair."

"We're still better than they are," I pointed out to try and placate her further.

"Actually," Phoebe added, "Just in terms of online ranking, we should win. They have one guy, Darryl, who is ranked fairly high, but the other two are nothing special."

"And you only get points for overall Varsity winner depending on where you finish overall," I added. "So it doesn't even matter if Darryl wins some games; if we trash the other two we'll still get maximum points."

"Fucking Herkensford," Belle muttered. "I didn't even care about the Varsity thing before, but now I want them to lose everything."

The round-robin heats were only to determine your seeding for the finals tournament, so they didn't really matter: you could lose all your heats and then so long as you won all your finals matches, you'd win overall. But neither Belle or I wanted to lose, and Phoebe was practically unbeatable. As we were called up to the stage I could still feel fluttering nerves, but it was slowly being replaced with a kind of electric excitement.

"Team captains, shake hands," the adjudicator said, still looking as pissed off as she had before. Phoebe stepped up, looking tiny on the stage in front of the giant screen, and shook the hand of the solitary girl on the Herkensford team, Jamie.

"Oh my God, I have watched so many of your streams," Jamie gushed to Phoebe. "You're, like, so good at this game. You really inspired me to take it up."

Phoebe just smiled politely. "Thank you. Good luck."

"Yeah, uh, good luck to you too. All three of you."

Belle smiled sweetly at her and I bounced gently on the balls of my feet, itching to start.

"First competitors please take your seats; Jamie Llewellyn and Caitlin Mansfield."

I wasted no time settling into the chair and putting on noise-cancelling headphones. With the background noise of the auditorium gone, I could focus on my game. And I was ready. More than ready. Varsity was supposed to just be friendly competition, but I wanted to win. It wasn't even about Herkensford; I wanted to beat Belle and I wanted to beat Phoebe. It was possible. Maybe.

Jamie sat opposite me and I picked up the controller, adjusting my grip slightly to favour the inside buttons, which was where most of Bruce's combos launched from.

"Ghoul Dueller..." the in-game announcer said into my headphones as the game loaded, and I went straight for Bruce. Just seeing his stupid face grinning back at me from the monitor gave me confidence. I could do this.

"Fight!"

We had nothing to do between the heats concluding and the finals beginning hours later. Phoebe, content with securing the top seed, unbeaten in all matches, was going to go home for a nap, but neither Belle or I could be bothered walking all the way back to the house. We'd won an equal number of matches and I had the higher seed in the tiebreak, but Belle seemed to be taking it surprisingly well.

"Let's watch one of the other events," she suggested, pointing to a big list of all the contests going on that was taped to the wall near the entrance to the building. "There's got to be something good."

I scanned the list. Nearly all of them were sport, which were taking place over at the athletic centre which was a bit of a walk. But apart from esports, there were a handful of other options being held in the same building.

"Judo," I suggested.

"Sounds boring to watch. What about MMA, or cage fighting or something?"

I snorted with laughter. "There's no cage fighting on the list for some reason."

"What the hell is Sparks of War Trading Card Game?"

"I think it's based on those fantasy books," I said, vaguely recognising the name.

"They'll really let people play anything and call it a sport, huh."

I scoffed. "We're literally playing a computer game about undead creatures hitting each other."

"Good point."

Continuing to scan, I shouted out some possibilities.

"There's darts?"

"No, too much maths."

"Something called 'Go'. No, wait, that's not until later."

"Maybe we should just 'go' home for a few hours," Belle conceded.

"Wait: they've got chess."

Belle laughed. "You seriously want to watch competitive chess?"

"At least it's a game I understand the rules of. And if two girls are in the audience for that, the nerds will be sweating."

She giggled. "We'd easily be the hottest people in the room. Alright, I'm in."

Belle wasn't exactly correct, as it turned out.

"Fuck, he has absolutely no right being here," Belle whispered in my ear, flagrantly disregarding the 'absolute silence, please' notice that was displayed on the screen.

"He is fine," I agreed, eyeing the very handsome guy who was currently studying a chessboard intently from behind a pair of glasses, resting his chin on his fist. He was so unlike the other competitors, who weren't all irredeemable nerds but definitely had the look of people who went to chess club. His dark hair was messy and incredibly cute, and the bare forearm he was leaning on was banded with muscles far in excess of requirements for moving chess pieces.

He reached out quite casually considering the amount of thought he had put in. He moved the black queen backwards a single square and pressed the button to stop his clock, then went back to studying the board in exactly the same position as before.

"Great move. Elite," Belle whispered and I had to stifle a laugh.

"If I was playing him I'd be very distracted," I replied with a giggle, but then someone pointedly shushed us and, chastised, we went quiet.

Although I knew how to play chess, the intricacies were lost on me, and after a few more seemingly minor moves for each player, they suddenly shook hands and there was applause from the audience. Released from the silence, Belle and I clapped loudest of all, and Belle even cheered. Obviously unused to such an enthusiastic reaction, Hot Guy looked over at the crowd, a bemused smile on his face. I cheered too, unsure if he'd actually won or not, and he gave us a little wave before walking over to the judge's table to sign off the result.

Most of the sparse audience went over to study the board, which had been left untouched after the end of the game. Belle and I went over too and peered at the pieces, pretending to understand.

"You can see that the material advantage lies with black and white has a bad bishop," a bloke said to the guy he was with, pointing vaguely at the bishop.

"Ah, yes, I can see that," his companion said, and Belle nudged me, trying to get me to laugh.

"I'd absolutely be bad if that guy was playing me," she muttered, her hand over her mouth, and I squeezed my mouth shut so I wouldn't make any noise.

"Hello," a voice said and we spun around to look straight at Hot Guy, who was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking at us. "Come to admire my endgame?"

"Er... great, um, pawn positioning?" I tried, and he smiled.

"Look," he said, stepping past me and leaning over the board. "The two principal moves for white are moving the king here." He indicated the square. "But that leaves the bishop exposed and my advantage will widen. The other option is to move the bishop." Again he gestured. "But that exposes the pawns and the endgame resolves in my favour. So, it's zugzwang."

Belle couldn't hold it in any longer and cracked up, while I just bit my lip and tried to respond. "Nice zugzwang, then."

"Thank you. I think I can safely assume that the two of you aren't really chess fans, right?"

I shook my head while Belle recovered her composure. "Um, not really. We're just here killing time."

He nodded. "You're from Beckfield?"

"Yes," I said, looking down briefly at my uniform top. "You?"

"I'm afraid I'm the enemy. Herkensford through and through. I'm Ben, by the way."

Somehow, the enmity didn't seem to matter as much as he smiled at me, making me feel things that I had never associated with chess before. "I'm Caitlin, and this is Belle."

He looked over at Belle. "What event are you two in?" he asked, sounding curious.

"We're competitive Ghoul Dueller players," Belle replied confidently. "Have you played it?"

"Oh, yeah, I have, actually. It's fun; one of my flatmates is quite into it at the moment," he said, nodding. "I, uh, usually play as the crazy Italian burn victim."

"Bruce!" I said triumphantly. "Yes! He's the one I play."

Ben smiled at me again. Fuck. Then he studied Belle for a moment. "Hmm... you play as the athletic one, right?"

"How did you know?" she asked, sounding impressed. "She's called Tiffany."

"I don't know, but I think picking characters like that is a bit like a personality test. Similar people are drawn to similar choices."

"Uh oh," I said, exchanging a look with Belle. "Seriously smart guy alert."

"I'm not that smart," he said, a little embarrassed.

"Just really good at chess. Yeah, that's usually something smart people avoid," Belle replied.

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, but before he could say anything else, the judge announced that the next round would be commencing shortly.

"I've got another game to play, but you're welcome to watch. Maybe we can get a coffee afterwards, or something," he suggested, then gave us another quick wave before hurrying off to find his seat.

"Oh my God," Belle said. "He's fucking delicious."

"I didn't know you went for the chess-playing type," I replied, walking with her back in the direction of the spectator seats.

"I do when they look like he does. Do you think he was flirting?"

"I think he was just being nice," I lied. The truth was that I was hoping he'd been flirting with me, but Belle was usually better at that kind of thing and there was no way I was letting her steal Ben from me with her charms.

"Clearly I wasn't trying hard enough," Belle said.

"Or maybe he finds the whole esports-girl thing repellent."

Belle giggled. "I'd absolutely take a hate-fucking if it was on the table."

Ben's game ran long and then he was in a play-off game immediately afterwards, so Belle and I needed to go before he was finished. We managed to exchange another wave with him, and it was hard to say that we'd wasted the afternoon when we'd been able to spend it staring at a good-looking guy.

I'd only lost one of my heats, the game against Phoebe, so I was the second seed in the finals. This meant I was guaranteed not to play her until the grand final, which was nice. I went over the bracket again, thinking about permutations while we waited for our slot to come up. On the big screen was a virtual football game and the sparse crowd was beginning to warm up, so occasionally I was roused from my thoughts by a cheer when a goal went in, or a groan when something else happened.

"Do you reckon they'll all hang around to watch Ghoul?" Belle asked, looking over at the spectators.

"Probably not."

"Good. I don't want distractions," Belle said firmly. I'd beaten her in the heats and she seemed determined not to allow a repeat of that.

The football wrapped up and, as expected, there was an exodus of people, but like Belle had said, it was good for focus. Our final bracket began with the top seeded match, so Phoebe was the first on the stage, taking her seat to an isolated bit of applause and a single whoop.

"More than we usually get," Belle mused, craning her neck to see who'd whooped.

The adjudicator looked even more tired and annoyed than earlier, so after Phoebe pulled off an easy victory, I didn't waste time getting up to exchange places with her. My opponent was Jamie again and I smiled at her as we shook hands and then got settled with headphones on. Collecting my thoughts and taking a deep breath, I looked over at where Belle and Phoebe were sitting. They both gave me looks of encouragement and Belle made a heart with her fingers. When I was turning back to the monitor, I caught sight of someone wearing glasses sitting with the spectators and when I looked back at him, my suspicion was confirmed. Ben gave me a double thumbs-up, sitting forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. I smiled back at him and tried to put him completely out of my head. I did not need to lose a winnable match because I was thinking about a guy. Bruce was the only guy for me for the next few minutes.

Jamie was also a Tiffany main and she was not as good as Belle. The difficulty of playing as Tiffany was the need for constant movement as she bounced from foot to foot; if you missed a rhythmic input, Tiffany stumbled slightly and her next move was sluggish. When you played her perfectly, like Belle could, she was formidable. The trick was to throw the player off their rhythm, by getting them to block during a syncopation or breaking a combo before they could finish the input. It was a method I'd practiced literally thousands of times and after I landed a big aerial combo early, Jamie got flustered, lost her rhythm and never got it back.

"Total Brain Smash!" the announcer roared and I sat back in the chair, blinking hard now I no longer needed to focus intently on the monitor. I took a breath, focused entirely on myself for a moment, my heart thudding against my ribs. Then I took off the headphones to hear an enthusiastic round of applause. Belle cheered my name and I smiled, getting up to shake Jamie's hand again and giving her a hug.

"You're so good," she said, looking a bit flushed.

"Thanks. You're a bit unlucky that Belle mains Tiffany, so I've had loads of practice for that matchup," I told her.

"I didn't think I could have beaten you anyway. You're on fire," she told me.

Jamie was right. The new patch had come at exactly the right time and I was playing as well as I ever had. Possibly better. My semi-final match against Belle was hard-fought but, realistically, never in doubt. When I launched the final combo to send Tiffany flying across the stage, my hands were almost shaking. Could I really challenge Phoebe? I'd never beaten her in competitive play before, but I felt so good about it.

"I still think Bruce is overpowered," Belle said to me as we hugged. "There's no skill involved at all." But she was smiling when she said it.

I left the stage but Belle stayed where she was for the third-place playoff against Darryl from Herkensford. He mained Fatso and was skilled at using such a difficult character; he knew how to position himself so that instead of vainly chasing other players around the stage, he seemed to almost always know exactly what their next attack was. Belle was pressed and they were tied 1-1 after the first two bouts. Both Phoebe and I cheered as loud as we could for her, and the crowd, which was slowly increasing as people trickled in through the doors, was beginning to get into it. Belle's eyes never left the monitor, though: she was laser-focused.

The final bout was a masterclass in using Tiffany. Fatso was bulky and hard to wear down, but throughout the bout, Belle never missed an input. Even when Darryl managed to land a hit, she powered through it, even though sometimes the speed of her fingers on the controller seemed inhumanly fast. You could tell that Darryl's frustration mounted as the bout went on until he finally became too aggressive, and Belle finished him.

"Yes!" she shouted, punching the air as Fatso finally went down. Phoebe and I were on our feet, celebrating her victory as well as the fact that we were guaranteed a one-two-three against Herkensford; payback for the stupid 'Mixed' thing.

Someone yelled 'great fighting, Belle', a slightly strange thing to shout across the auditorium, and several pairs of eyes swivelled to look at Ben. He sat back down in his seat, looking adorably unsure of himself, but Belle blew him a kiss to make up for it.

Anyone in the audience who knew their Ghoul would be highly anticipating the final between Phoebe and I. But since the bulk of the spectators were now made up of people arriving early for the next event, all we got was a polite ripple of applause as we took our seats.

I'd played Phoebe so many times before, but this really did feel like my time had come. She was good, but nobody was invincible. The game began and I went on the attack, pressing home my slight momentum advantage. Phoebe matched me blow for blow, and I was completely absorbed in the game. I forgot about the audience or Belle or anything that wasn't the flashing pictures on the screen, Bruce chasing Hash around the stage and allowing him no time to do anything. I was so close. It felt within reach. I had the edge and Phoebe couldn't overcome it. The first two of the best-of-five went to Bruce. In the third game, there was nothing she could do but wait and watch me chip Hash's health down slowly but surely.

But, with her usual razor-sharp awareness of the game state, Phoebe outplayed me. I didn't realise I'd fallen into her trap until it was too late. She knew she couldn't beat Bruce toe-to-toe, but she could beat me. By presenting an iron defence, she kept me attacking, launching combo after combo to keep pressing her. And after a while, I began to tire, my hands sweating onto the controller, my concentration wavering. I could feel it happening; the odd missed button press, occasional sluggish movements. It was like a long-distance runner who, overtaken with only the home straight still to go, simply didn't have the energy to go any faster. Hash began getting hits in on Bruce and things unravelled from there. I dropped the third game by the tiniest margin; then the fourth, and then...

"Congratulations to our Ghoul Dueller Mixed bracket champion, Phoebe Yang!" the adjudicator said in clipped tones as the audience applauded her and I stood by, trying to fight off the bitter disappointment of coming so close. Then we hugged, my arms easily wrapping around her skinny shoulders, and I relaxed. This was a great moment for her, after all.

"Congrats," I said, smiling.

"Hardest match I've fought for ages," she replied. And from Phoebe that was a big compliment.

When we got off the stage, which was already being changed around for whatever game was scheduled next, Belle had vanished from our seats, leaving all our things behind. I looked around the auditorium until I spotted her, halfway up in the seats, chatting to Ben. The way she was standing with one hand on her hip, the other flicking the end of her hair, I could instantly recognise as flirting.

A flicker of jealousy went through me. Why should she get Ben just because I was busy on stage in the final? It was me he should be interested in because I was the better Ghoul player. Maybe it was a bit more of a flicker than I thought.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" Phoebe asked me, but I wasn't listening.

"Keep an eye on my things," I told her and marched straight off towards Belle.

They were coming down the steps, conversing smoothly when I blocked their path.

"Great match, Caitlin," Belle said sweetly, but I looked daggers at her.

"What did you think?" I asked Ben, smiling at him. "I always think I play best in front of an appreciative audience." I put out my hand and touched his arm gently.

"Oh, yeah, really amazing. You're so fast! I really thought you were going to win for most of it," he replied, but I was watching Belle, whose eyes had narrowed. She knew exactly what I was doing.

"Do you want to get some food?" she asked him, brushing invisible dust off his shoulder. "There's a really good Mexican place on the High Street."

"I actually have to run now; I've got the next chess round in a minute."

"After that?" I suggested.

"I told some mates that we'd get a kebab or something, you know, preload before the drinking starts tonight," Ben told me. "I might see you later, though."

"Where will you be?" I instantly asked.

He shrugged. "I suppose we'll start at the student union."

"I'll be there," I assured him, then realised that I was being far too available and backed off, letting go of him. "I mean, if I feel like it."

"Awesome," he said, giving both of of a thumbs up. "See you later, then."

And he left, only pausing to congratulate Phoebe as he passed.

"Bitch," Belle said.

"You're one to talk."

"He's clearly more into me. You beat me in the tournament, you have to let me have him."

"Maybe he prefers someone good at Ghoul?"

"Fuck off, Caitlin."

"You know it's been ages since I got a really good fucking," I whinged, lowering my voice as we began walking back over to Phoebe. "Let me have this."

"No way. I've been waiting just as long as you have. Maybe we see who he prefers?"

"Fine."

It wasn't fine.

Despite our team success at Varsity, Belle and I barely said a word to each other for the rest of the evening. Phoebe quickly got tired of the frosty atmosphere and retreated to her bedroom, doubtlessly to play more Ghoul. I went through the motions of getting ready to go out, showering and doing my hair and makeup, before ceding the shared bathroom to Belle with a tight-lipped smile. All the time I was wondering why it was that she had to be such a man-stealing bitch, any friendly thoughts I held for her now vapourised in the heat of rivalry.

To my immense annoyance, Belle looked hot as hell in a form-fitting red dress that I'd bought and then given to her when I decided it didn't suit me. She was wearing it to spite me, I was sure, and she glanced at my white top and peach pleated skirt with a studied politeness.

"You look nice," she said, barely bothering to hide her insincerity.

"Don't come crying to me when your legs get cold and you want to go home early," I replied, with my own fake smile.

"Don't worry. It's not you I'm going home with."

I laughed to show I didn't care.

With the Varsity events having concluded, the student union bar was much busier than usual. There were a mixture of Beckfield students still wearing Varsity uniforms or dressed for going out, while the Herkensford students generally hadn't brought anything to change into and were mostly in their university's colours. Despite the best efforts of a gang of lads at the bar to whip up some hostility, the atmosphere was friendly and Belle and I scanned the room for Ben as we jostled our way over to buy drinks.

"Can't see him," I said, still looking around when we got to the bar. I was holding out cash and my student ID to try and get the attention of the two overworked barmaids.

"Can't see who?" Belle asked, acting dumb.

"There are about a hundred guys here. Why can't you find someone else?" I suggested.

"Why don't you get a life and stop interfering in mine?"

"Why don't you go and hang out with your other friends if you're so-"

Our bickering was interrupted by the barmaid. "What can I get you girls?"

"We're not together," Belle replied sourly, and the barmaid rolled her eyes before looking at me.

"Double vodka and orange juice."

She walked off to get the juice and Belle and I waited in icy silence, which was undermined somewhat by the noisy atmosphere.

Once I had my drink, Belle pushed past me to order her own, and to my delight, I caught sight of Ben's messy hair across the bar. Leaving Belle seething impotently, waiting for her drink, I scurried around knots of other students to find Ben, who was holding a pint and talking to some Beckfield lads. He didn't notice me approaching amid the noise and I waited for a chance to interrupt.

"The thing is, the English opening usually undermines the Sicilian. You force Black into a Symmetrical or Reversed Sicilian, which either puts Black onto the back foot or gives White the familiarity of playing the Sicilian," he said, and the authoritative way he said it was just plain sexy.

"But the experienced player will break in the centre with the d-pawn," one of the Beckfield guys said.

"That's what I had in the second game and we eventually had a variation on the Accelerated Dragon. But my point is that you're playing the player, and so long as you maintain accuracy, you often prevent them from gaining equality. Then they begin to make mistakes because they haven't got the tempo."

Belatedly he realised I was standing there watching me. "Oh, hello Caitlin," he said, unruffled, but I blushed because I hadn't announced my arrival and now it looked like I was awkwardly hanging around him.

"Hi. I didn't want to interrupt," I said, but the damage was done.

"It's okay. This is..." He looked over to introduce the people he was talking to, but they had begun their own sub-conversation about chess and weren't looking at us. "Never mind."

"What does 'Accelerated Dragon' mean?" I asked, sucking the straw in my drink and looking up at him through my eyelashes.

"It's... complicated. It's a variation of the Sicilian Decence, if you know what that is."

"Not really."

"You move your little wooden horse pieces around a lot."

I laughed. "Okay. I know those ones."

"Where's Belle?" he asked, not realising how little I wanted him to ask that.

"She's around," I replied vaguely.

"Right."

"So, how did you get into chess?" I asked, taking another sip.

"My dad is really good at it. I've been playing against him since I was little. One day I might even beat him."

I laughed again and flicked my hair around. "Oh, that's so cool."

Belle's arrival spared me from needing to ask follow-up questions about chess.

"Hi Ben," she said, slightly breathless from pushing through the crowd which annoyingly gave her a sexy look.

"Hello Belle. Caitlin said you were around here somewhere."

She flashed me a venomous look. "Are you heading back to Herkensford tonight, or staying here somewhere?"

"I've got a comfy seat booked on the coach home at midnight. Think Cinderella, but I suspect there will be more people throwing up."

We both laughed more than the joke really needed and he looked a bit surprised.

"Well then we'll have to get the partying going early," Belle said. "Do you want another drink?"

Ben glanced at his mostly-full glass. "I'm alright, thanks."

"I bet the chess team usually get really wild at stuff like this," I said, trying not to look at the two Beckfield lads who were sill deep in conversation.

This seemed to appeal to Ben. "Hah, yeah, you're right. At the university national tournament last year, I got drinking with this guy from Oxford who actually proposed a Yugoslav Attack variation with checkmate on the b-file!"

Neither of us reacted, unsure if that was a punchline.

"You know, because... the h-file... he was confusing his positions... look, forget it," Ben said, trailing off and then looking wistfully at the other chess players. "They would understand."

"So, what do you study?" Belle asked, sensibly moving on.

"Economics," Ben said promptly, and I lit up.

"Me too!"

"Do you enjoy it?" he asked, looking at me.

"Oh, yeah. It's so interesting," I lied.

Belle snorted and I ignored her.

"My dissertation is on market activities designed to generate liquidity in illiquid physical products," Ben told me. "It's interesting because there are parallels with chess; actions provide reactions, and you can pursue a theoretical activity, but it's difficult to account for variations and mistakes."

"Um, yeah, I know what you mean. It's like the relationship between liquidity and efficient price-finding."

"Exactly! I was saying this just the other day." He was smiling at me and I felt like I was making progress.

"Anyway, Ben, do you have a girlfriend?" Belle asked bossily, cutting me out again.

"No, I'm single," he said, a flash of nervousness reappearing on his face. "Keeping my options open, or something like that."

"I think that makes sense," Belle nodded. "Caitlin just got out of a relationship and it was a bad breakup, really messy. Her ex still threatens to punch anyone who goes near her."

This was such a bare-faced lie that I spluttered, unsure where to begin, while Ben took a small but noticeable step away from me.

"That's not true," I hit back. "That's your ex, the, uh, drug dealer. Who's been to prison."

Belle's mouth dropped open, but before she could say anything, Ben spoke.

"I'm just gonna talk to these guys for a bit," he said, edging further away. "See you later."

Once his back was turned, Belle grabbed my wrist tightly.

"Ow," I complained, trying to pull away.

"You're scaring him off," she hissed.

"I'm scaring him off? You made up my ex boyfriend. We were having a perfectly normal conversation before that."

"No, you were talking about nerdy shit. I rescued the conversation."

"It's not nerdy shit," I protested, but we weren't getting anywhere and our raised voices were attracting attention.

"Bathroom," Belle said, tugging my wrist. "Let's go."

The ladies' was brightly-lit and the counter in front of the mirrors was already littered with half-drunk, abandoned drinks. There were a steady stream of girls coming and going, so Belle and I stood in a corner and tried to be discreet.

"If we keep fighting over him, he's going to think we're insane," Belle said, checking her eyeliner in the mirror.

"I think that ship has sailed," I said plainly. "What do you suggest?" Usually we would decide things like this with Ghoul. I was inclined to be generous because I thought I had more in common with him and so would probably win.

"After two drinks, we just ask him who he prefers, fair and square."

"You have to promise not to do any more sabotage, though," I said.

"Okay. No bitchiness. We have to be friends."

"Fine."

Belle gave me a smile and I tried to work out whether this was also a trap.

We gave him ten minutes to continue his chess conversation before taking it in turns to go over and talk to him, one-to-one. I spoke to him about economics a bit and found out about his summer plans volunteering for a charity.

"I'm supposed to teach the kids to play chess, but really they just want to run around, so mainly we play basketball or football if the weather is good," he said.

"That's so cool."

"Not really. They're little shits who tackle dirty. And I play chess, not football, so usually I'm out of breath after five minutes."

When he was talking to Belle, I stood on the other side of the room, reading Ghoul Dueller chat messages and forcing myself not to watch them. Phoebe was streaming online bouts and I idly watched that for a bit, the student union crowd thinning as people went onwards to nightclubs.

"How did you get into Ghoul Dueller?" Ben asked me. We'd managed to get seats at a table and there were about two inches of my second drink left, so I was in full-on flirt-and-charm mode. I was not so subtly sitting forward against the table to enhance my cleavage and had made sure my skirt was as high up my thighs as was decent in a public place.

"When I was released, I liked the gameplay. I'd played a few fighting games before, but they all had established players who were so good, it was hard to break into. But Ghoul was completely new, so it was easier to learn and playing online didn't mean you just got stomped all the time," I explained.

"And that's how you met Belle?"

I resented talking about her. "Yes. We've been playing together for years."

"That's great. You two seem like good friends."

Our eyes met for a second.

"Really?" I questioned. "I feel like tonight we've been a bit... shitty."

He grinned. "There are always ups and downs, right? It makes sense that maybe Belle's feeling a bit down since you beat her earlier."

I hadn't completely considered this. So pleased with my good form with Bruce, I hadn't really thought about how Belle had felt, losing in the tournament. If I was in her place, I would feel awful. Like how I'd felt when I'd lost to Phoebe.

"Good point," I said, suddenly filled with guilt.

"I'm sure she'll get over it," Ben said hastily, sensing my mood. "She seems tough."

"She is." I hated myself for thinking this, but maybe it would be best to leave Belle and Ben together. She probably needed it more than I did.

Reluctantly I reached out and finished my drink, and Ben noticed.

"Want another?"

I shook my head. "I think I might head home, actually."

"Oh." He looked disappointed, but I knew I was doing the right thing.

I took my glass back to the bar and then found Belle.

"You can have him," I said, smiling.

"Oh God, he didn't do something awful, did he?"

"No."

"Is he really drunk or something? You know I can't handle it if other people are sick when I'm around."

"No, I just thought, maybe you need the win. After I beat you earlier," I told her.

"Fuck off. I don't want your pity," she said defiantly.

"That's not what I mean-"

"No, Caitlin, I'm not letting you be the bigger person. You'll hold it over my head for eternity. 'Remember when I let you shag that guy?'. We're asking him who he wants."

She marched over to Ben and I trailed along after her.

"Ben: settle a bet for us," she said with her usual lack of embarrassment. "Both of us are into you."

He had the decency to look mildly surprised. "Oh, really?"

"Who do you prefer?"

His smile turning from surprise to amusement, he looked at me and then at Belle. "What if I don't fancy either of you?"

I felt the icy chill of rejection begin to run down my back, but Belle wasn't having it.

"You're in the chess club and we're fairly good-looking. I would find that hard to believe," she deadpanned.

"Fair enough. Look, you're both fit, but I don't want to get between you. Caitlin was telling me how you've been playing together for years and you're best friends. Nothing's worth ruining that."

"Alright," Belle grunted, disappointed. "Well, thanks for being honest." She sounded like I felt.

"No chance you'd be up for a threesome, is there?"

The question hung in the air for a second, just long enough for Ben to regret it. But I recognised an opportunity when I saw one.

"Sorry, I-"

"Yeah," I said. "If Belle is."

Belle looked at me for a second and I knew she wouldn't back down from the challenge.

"I'm definitely up for that."

Ben's smile got very wide indeed. "Alright then. Lead the way."

When we got back to the house, Phoebe was still streaming so we kicked shoes off quietly and Belle led the way to her room, which was closest. The closer we got to actually doing this the more I thought it was a good idea: Belle and I would both get what we wanted (a decent fucking) and this way there didn't need to be any bad blood about it. Of course, we'd never actually had sex in the same room as each other before, but I didn't think it would be all that strange. I'd seen her in her underwear enough times.

As soon as the door was closed and locked, I kissed Ben while Belle got to work unbuttoning his shirt. Unsurprisingly he tasted of beer, but he was a good kisser and his hand slid to the small of my back, pulling me in close to him. He shrugged off his shirt when Belle was finished and it fell to the floor, and my fingers bumped into Belle's as we felt the muscles under the skin of his bare chest.

Ben's hand went from my back to my bum and squeezed, making me moan softly into him. I heard a similar noise from Belle and I broke the kiss to look over at her. His other hand was on her bum, fingers digging in through the fabric of her dress, and when I looked up again, he'd switched to kissing Belle. I took my chance to kiss his collarbone and his neck, wrapping my arm around him, and the weight of the two of us up against him made him take a step back so he was up against the door. I kissed his jaw, shaking my hair out of my face, and he turned away from Belle and back to me. This time the taste of beer was moderated with the taste of Belle's lipstick, which I didn't mind. It was nicer than beer.

"Dresses off, please," he murmured between kisses, gently letting go of us. We both stood back and I was reaching to pull off my top when Belle caught my eye.

"Will you help me with my zip?" she asked, turning away and scraping her hair off her neck.

"Let me get comfortable," Ben grinned, moving across to the bed and sitting down, his thighs spread. I waited until he seemed content before closing the distance between Belle and I, clumsily trying to get hold of the tiny zip pull. She smelt of perfume and her shampoo, and I noticed the way that her neck curved into her shoulders, a tiny wisp of baby hairs gathering at the nape of her neck.

"Hurry up," she said, giggling, and her laugh was infectious. I bit my tongue to stop laughing and then pulled the zip down, revealing first her shoulderblades, then bra strap, and finally the hollow of her back. The zip went right down below the waistband of her knickers and I suddenly felt a stab of nerves. There was something about that line of white material, cutting across her back, which reminded me what we were doing. Was this really a good idea?

Belle interpreted my momentary pause as the zip being finished, so she pushed the dress off her shoulders and then down over her hips, bending forward to free her feet. I looked down at her knickers, stretched over her arse, and then noticed from the corner of my eye that Ben was looking at exactly the same thing.

"Your turn," Belle announced, standing up straight and turning back around to face me.

I was perfectly capable of taking my own clothes off, but that wasn't the game, so I turned away from her. Her fingers slipped under the waistband of my skirt and found the hem of my top, pulling it up. I helped get it over my tits and pulled it over my head, tossing it onto the floor as Belle unzipped my skirt. It didn't need any help falling straight down my legs but she tugged it down anyway, and as I stepped out of it I felt her hands on my hips.

"I think someone's enjoying the view," she said, a trace of a laugh in her tone.

I looked over at Ben and he was sitting back, looking very happy.

"Absolutely," he confirmed, his eyes going backwards and forwards between Belle and I. She stepped closer to me, her bra pressing into my back, her hips meeting mine from behind. Playing up to it, I tilted and turned my head so I could see Belle. In return she pushed her hips into my bum and I wiggled back, the contact feeling warm and somehow comforting. It wasn't too different to grinding against a guy, except there was only softness and no hard dick pressing between my arse cheeks. The thought of Belle's pussy rubbing up against me sent a shiver through me and I pulled away, losing my nerve.

"Should we help him out?" I suggested, changing the subject by fixing my eyes on the obvious tightness of the front of Ben's trousers.

"Definitely," Belle said, letting go of me. I knew what we were going to do without needing to say anything and I knelt on his right while Belle knelt on his left. She got his belt undone and I unzipped him, and together we shimmied his trousers down to his ankles. He lifted up his hips so we could do the same with his underwear, and as he kicked it all off, Belle reached up and took hold of his cock.

I wasn't about to be left behind so I slid my hand up his thigh and cupped his balls, watching as Belle stroked his shaft up and down. He groaned and I felt him flex, and Belle flashed him a big smile as she leant forwards and kissed the tip. I kept my hand in place, my eyes on Belle's lips as they parted and she licked his shaft gently, then wrapped her lips around it.

For some reason, all I could think about was how sexy Belle looked when she was sucking cock. Her eyes were wide, focusing on Ben, and the hollows of her cheeks caught the soft light in the bedroom, enhancing her cheekbones. A few strands of hair were caught around her face and I instinctively reached out to brush them away with my fingernails.

Belle looked at me, possibly a bit startled, but she never stopped sucking. When I realised that it might be a bit weird to stare at your best friend when she was giving a blowjob, I quickly leant forward as well and began kissing the base of Ben's cock, licking it, massaging his balls as Belle's lips kept working lower and lower.

With a loud groan from Ben, she pulled him out of her mouth and stroked him again. I recognised this as being my turn and pushed his cock into my mouth, rubbing my tongue against the underside at first as I got used to the size of it. Then I began sucking, moving my head up and down while Belle held it in place. This time it was the intense taste of cock and precum that was moderated by Belle's lip balm and a slightly sweet taste that I guessed was her saliva. Something about that turned me on and I sucked even more, my lips sliding right down his shaft until they met Belle's fingers. I kept him deep in my mouth, sucking hard, before pulling back with a gasping breath.

Belle was sucking his cock again a moment later, so I leant in and kissed the bottom of his shaft, finding gaps between Belle's fingers as she stroked and sucked at the same time. I didn't like the rapidly-forming idea that Belle might be better at this than I was, so I started licking and running my tongue up the side of his shaft, waiting for Belle to move away so I could suck him again.

When she did, she started mirroring me, using her tongue on one side while I licked the other. Ben reacted very well to this so we continued, moving up and down. Then I began focusing on the head of his cock, kissing it, squeezing it with my lips, flicking the tip of my tongue against it. Belle began copying this as well and I felt his cock pulsing as he moaned. My eyes met Belle's as we both licked, sending a rush of heat through me. I kissed his cock more, my mouth open, and I felt Belle doing the same thing. Working up towards the tip, I thought I might suck him again, but Belle had a similar idea. Neither of us stopped, though, and slowly but surely our kisses met in the middle. A moment later, it wasn't his cock I was kissing any longer.

The softness of Belle's lips surprised me, and it took a few seconds before it really sank in that I was kissing her. And she was kissing me back, just as enthusiastically. The sweet taste of her was stronger now, and I moved my hand from Ben to Belle's shoulder, feeling the heat of her skin, her hair brushing against my forehead.

"Fuck," Ben said happily, and I felt Belle's face crease into a smile. I giggled and we broke apart, my heart racing.

"Are you feeling left out?" Belle asked him in a teasing voice, reaching over and squeezing his cock gently.

"Just a bit," he replied. "But don't worry about me."

I kissed his cock one more time and then moved upwards, kissing his abdomen and chest, pushing him backwards onto the bed. Belle followed me until he was lying flat on his back, both of us kissing his neck and his jaw. His hand slipped down my back, cupping my arse again, pulling me higher and closer. But then his fingers rounded my hip, now rough against my stomach, before pushing down into my knickers.

When his fingertips found my clit, I heard Belle make a noise that described exactly how I felt. I kept kissing him, encouraging him as he found a good spot and pressed hard onto it. Lying flat against him didn't leave any room for his hand to move, though, so I lifted my hips up until I was kneeling and able to spread my legs apart. This position also made it easy for me to reach back and push my knickers down, which Ben seemed to appreciate.

He was good with his fingers. Really good. I was very wet even before he started, but soon I was soaking. And then when he shifted from rubbing my clit to sliding his fingers inside me, somehow he managed to shift up a gear again. My nipples were aching in my bra as I kept kissing him until I felt too breathless to do even that, his fingers curling back to press firmly into my g spot. Belle was even noisier than I was, her moans getting louder and louder.

"Yes, right there," she said, and I found the energy to look over at her. She was lying on her side, one leg lifted while Ben's hand worked rapidly against her pussy. But the sensations from what he was doing to me were too overwhelming to let me focus on anything else for long, even as Belle's moans got desperate. Then they were muffled by the bed as she pressed her face into it.

"Oh fuck, I'm going to cum," she told him. And the idea just turned me on more. Perhaps understandably, Ben's focus shifted a bit over to Belle as he brought her to orgasm, and I had to push myself against his fingers to get the hard pressure I wanted. Listening to her cum made me wetter, and the moment Ben returned to me, his fingers moving fast inside me, it wasn't long until I was my turn to push my face into the bed to quieten what must have been almost screams of pleasure as I came.

I collapsed onto the bed beside him, panting, letting my knickers fall over my feet and onto the floor. My body was so drained that I had no idea how I would ever be able to lift myself up, but Belle had been recovering for longer and was soon kissing Ben again. I lay there, my chest going up and down with big breaths as Belle climbed on top of him, straddling his chest, still kissing him with her hair hanging down around her face. For a minute there was a lot of grunting and giggling as Ben hauled himself up so he was lying fully on the bed, and then Belle reached down to lift up his cock. With a long, deep gasp, she pushed him inside her, sliding all the way down in one movement, until Ben grunted happily, his hands finding her hips.

As tired as I was, there was absolutely no way I was just going to lie there while Belle rode his cock. I sat up, pushing my hair back, trying not to stare at Belle as she began to bounce up and down rhythmically. Then I looked over at Ben, searching for a space to fit into. I honestly wouldn't have minded if he just wanted to finger me again, but he looked at me hungrily.

"Sit on my face," he breathed, still holding onto Belle as she picked up speed. I giggled and nodded, climbing unsteadily across the bed until I could swing my knee over him. His hands went from Belle's hips to mine, guiding me into position until I was kneeling down completely, his wet tongue going straight to my clit.

His fingers had been good, but so was his tongue. Really good. His fingers dug into my arse as he pulled me down, increasing the pressure until I moaned. And then my eyes met Belle's, and we both laughed at the situation. Me pushing my pussy against his mouth. Her riding his cock, her tits bouncing up and down in her bra. She bit her lip to fight back a moan and it struck me how close we were.

Ben began pushing his hips up, driving his cock more firmly into Belle, and she arched her back, leaning forward. I held out my hands and she took them, our fingers intertwining naturally, and she put her weight against me. For a few seconds we went back to looking at each other, her face slightly damp from sweat, breathing hard. I was moaning from the insistent touch of his tongue on my clit and I thought Belle looked so fucking hot riding him.

I leant forward, not looking away from her. Her eyes widened just for a moment before they understood, and we kissed again. Kissing Belle made everything feel better, made every sensation twice as intense. It felt naughty and dirty to kiss another girl, but at the same time, I was wondering why the hell I hadn't kissed her sooner. It was so right and so fucking good.

Her tongue was pressed against mine when I felt her fingers gently uncurl from mine, letting go just for a moment. Then my eyes flew open in surprise when she moved them onto my tits, squeezing gently through my bra, rubbing her thumbs over my nipples. The fabric muted the feeling but I still felt pleasure surging through me. In return I reached out and touched hers too, tracing her cleavage with my fingertip while she moved up and down. Then I took them in my hands, feeling her body react, kissing her more deeply. She reached around to undo my bra and I did the same, racing to be the first to get it off. It was essentially a tie, and our hands and arms tangled as we tried to get them off our shoulders and throw them aside.

Belle's tits were soft and slightly damp from her sweat, right up to her nipples which were the single spot of hardness. There was something intoxicating about gently flicking her nipples with my fingertips while we kissed, because it made her tense and gasp every time. While I went for the gentle approach, Belle held my tits firmly, the up and down motion of riding Ben's cock making it hard for her to focus more than that. Each time she squeezed I felt a rush go through my chest. But this experimentation was cut short when Ben firmly pushed my hips upward.

"Need to breathe," he said, and I climbed off him to avoid overbalancing. Belle and I exchanged a look and a smile.

"Want to swap?" she suggested, sitting herself down on deeply on his cock for a moment.

Ben's cock felt amazing inside me as I pushed myself down onto it. And then kept pushing right up until I felt his balls against me. I moaned and Belle giggled, waiting for Ben to catch his breath. I couldn't wait, though: I started riding him and didn't stop, going fast and hard right from the outset because I needed to feel him deep in me, feel the hard, sharp sensation of his body hitting against mine. He was holding back, not thrusting into me, so I tried harder, hearing him breathing deeply, trying to retain control.

I didn't want that. I wanted him helpless. I wanted to go in for the knock out. Learning forward, I rolled my hips backwards, slowly pushing his entire length into me before equally slowly inching it back out.

"Oh fuck," he exclaimed, his hands on my hips tensing, then shifting to my arse. I did it again, letting his hands guide the pace, and just when he felt secure, I went back to fast and hard. Belle just watched, still waiting for her chance, and I wasn't going to let her have it.

"Shit, Caitlin," Ben said, and the sound of my name made me go faster still. "No, seriously. I'll..."

I never wanted to stop. But I needed to play fair.

"Okay," I said, slowing to a stop, full of his cock. The look on his face was priceless as he wrestled to hold back. God, the temptation to make him cum was strong. It was like having an opponent on a sliver of health remaining and choosing which move to make the finishing blow.

"Where do you want to cum?" Belle asked him in her sexiest voice, getting onto her hands and knees so she could kiss him again, her hand moving up and down his chest, fingernails grazing his nipples.

"On... fuck... both of you together," he managed to say. Just barely managed to say.

"No porn star facials," I said quickly, not relishing the idea of spending the next half an hour with my eyes stinging.

"Tits or arses?" Belle asked him between kisses.

"Arses," he groaned, squeezing mine firmly.

I never wanted to stop sitting on his cock but all good things must come to an end. The mattress squeaked and protested as we moved around, ending up on all fours next to each other with Ben standing behind us. I shuffled closer to her until our hips and shoulders were touching, the smell of her hair coming back to me. Her eye caught mine and we shared a smile, then a laugh at how weird this felt. She lifted her hand and put it on top of mine, our fingers linked. Then we kissed again, so naturally it felt ridiculous we hadn't done it sooner.

I felt her body stiffen for a moment as Ben pushed his cock into her from behind, but the kiss never stopped. The first time she moaned into my mouth, though, was incredible. I felt so in tune with her. The moment Ben's cock slid back out of her I could sense her frustration before she even reacted.

Then my turn came and I moaned happily when he pushed inside. I'd thought that I would have been reluctant to take his cock when it had just been inside Belle, but now I wanted it. I wanted him deep. I wanted him to fuck me so hard and fast that I wouldn't even be able to kiss Belle. Not that it would stop me trying. I wanted-

"Fuck," Ben said, exhaling sharply as he pulled out of me. A second later I felt a splash hit my arse cheek, followed intermittently by more. Privately, I smiled with satisfaction at the thought that it had been my pussy that had actually made him cum. As fun as this was, I was still competitive. And that felt like winning, in a way.

Our kisses became slower and more playful after that. Ben, ever the gentleman, used the box of tissues on Belle's bedside table to wipe his cum off us, no doubt taking the opportunity to admire his handiwork. Then, tired of balancing on my hands and knees, I lay down in Belle's bed, exhaustion catching up to me.

"Any chance I can crash here tonight?" Ben asked playfully, eyeing the bed beside me.

"No chance," Belle said flatly, before making a kiss face at him. "Only room for two here."

"Then I've really got to run to catch my coach home," Ben apologised as he pulled his clothes back on. "Much as I'd love to hang out."

I was past caring. "Safe travels," I replied sleepily, and Belle laughed. He must have left after that, but I don't remember anything else. Her bed was soft and smelt of her and I wasn't interested in anything else.

When I woke up, it was the kind of gentle awakening you dream of. No shrill alarm clock. Just the soft noise of traffic passing outside and the warm arms of another person around you. In my case, I slowly became aware that it must be Belle because of the feeling of her tits softly pressing into my back. I loved being the little spoon and I snuggled my head into the pillow, wiggling my hips until I was in an even more comfortable position pressed against her. Dimly I knew I had unresolved internal questions about last night and how I felt towards her, but now I was just too happy to care.

Her hand shifted from my waist to my ribcage and she turned slightly. I had thought I couldn't get more comfortable but this was somehow even better. I made a kind of contented sigh, hoping I might fall asleep again, but then I felt Belle press her hips into my arse. I pushed back, the contact nice, her crotch finding just the right place on my bum.

Then she pushed again, her hand going up from my ribcage onto my breast. My breath caught in my throat and a lot of feelings came rushing up. There was definitely a difference between performative kissing and touching with a guy in the room and... whatever this was. Belle rubbed her palm over my nipple and kept pushing herself against my arse, which undeniably felt good but was also very confusing.

Gathering my courage, I opened my mouth to say something to her.

Then closed it again as I felt a spreading warmth, centred on the sensitive point of my neck, just below my ear, which Belle had just kissed. God, that felt good. Not just sex-good but blissfully-good. The kind of good I had assumed only a boy could make me feel. Did I mention that this was confusing?

I arched my back gently to push more firmly into Belle, and her movements turned into more definite thrusts. Mentally, I went through a checklist. Did best friends have sex with the same guy together? Yes. Did best friends kiss each other? Probably. Did best friends touch each other's tits? Maybe. Did best friends lie in bed together, naked, in a sex position, rubbing against each other, getting wet, wishing that one of the friends had a dildo or something to push inside me because I really, really wanted her to fuck me?

Probably not.

Maybe 'best friends' weren't really the right words.

"Belle," I whispered, breaking the quiet rhythm of our collective breathing.

"Hmm?" she asked, kissing my bare shoulder this time and making me shiver with excitement. I loved how her lips felt on me. I wanted her to kiss me all over, just like that, and not just on the sex parts.

I couldn't find the words. What did I want to ask her? Whether she was struggling with all the same questions I was? Whether crossing this line might ruin our friendship, and how I literally could not imagine life without her? Or should I just ask her the one question I was burning to ask right now, as she more or less rubbed her pussy against my arse and kept flicking my nipple until I was biting back moans?

In the end, it wasn't a question at all.

"Belle... please fuck me."

The statement hung in the air for a moment and a rumble of regret began to build in the lowest pit of my stomach. I couldn't handle a rejection.

She said: "I'd love to, Caitlin," in the cockiest, most annoying way that instantly made me both hate her and want her more. Somehow, in those four words, she managed to reassure me that our friendship was secure and also wind me right up.

Moving away from me with a final, delicious kiss on my jaw, she rolled me onto my back and threw off the blanket. I spread my legs and she climbed between them, putting her whole weight onto me, her hair swinging into my face. She brushed it aside and looked into my eyes for a moment. All I could think about was how, somehow, she smelt even better than last night; her sleepy smell was incredibly attractive. Belle cracked a smile and I giggled, and then we kissed.

And the kisses didn't stop. We snogged, my arms around her neck, trying to kiss her more deeply and with more passion than ever before.

She kissed my neck and my collarbone, leaving me writhing, pinned beneath her. Each staccato kiss was a brush of softness and my hands found hers, gripping her fingers.

Belle's mouth closed around my nipple and was followed a moment later by the hardness of her teeth. I moaned out loud, the noise too loud for the stillness of the room. She responded by sucking, hard, increasing the intensity. With my second moan came an instinctive movement from my hand, moving downwards to my hips, wanting to touch my clit and do something about the aching down there. Instead, it bumped into Belle's body, and she paused from sucking my tits to look up at me.

"Not yet," she breathed, maintaining eye contact as she lowered her mouth and touched my nipple with the tip of her tongue. So lightly I could barely feel it. I willed her to suck again, but she held back, teasing me to the brink. Then she clamped down hard with her lips and my body shook with arousal. It wasn't just how it felt: it was because Belle was doing it. I wanted her so much.

Her kisses reached my stomach and my hips, and then reached down my thighs to my calves and my feet. Then they came back up, and Belle gently nudged my thighs further and further apart until she was looking up at me, smiling, from right between them. She was so close. Another handful of her kisses covered my inner thighs and I was so ready.

Finally she paused, her mouth open, breathing on my pussy. I had never imagined that just feeling someone's breath on me would feel so intense. Our eyes met again and I nodded, willing her forward.

"Say I'm better than you at Ghoul," she demanded.

"Fuck off," I replied instantly, without needing to think. "I'd sooner eat my own pussy than admit that."

Belle giggled and sat up. "Say it or I'm going for a cold shower."

I sat up too, caught halfway between desire and amusement. "Enjoy your icy hell, then."

There was a momentary impasse, neither of us backing down. Then Belle started to go in the direction of the door and I intercepted her. Our limbs tangled as I pushed her back onto the bed and she struggled back, twisting away. Then it was my turn to use me weight, holding her down on her back, her hair a mess. We both panted from the momentary exertion.

"Fine. Turn around," Belle said, patting me on the bum.

It was my lips which touched her pussy first, kissing her tentatively, fluttering with nerves about giving head to a girl for the first time. But then her lips touched my pussy, spreading me and then flicking her tongue against my clit. It felt so good that I just copied her, tasting her wetness and then rubbing my tongue on her. She moaned and I smiled.

Inevitably, it turned competitive. At first it was just rises and falls in intensity, each of us taking the lead in turns, but then when Belle licked harder, I licked harder, and when she put her finger inside me, I put my finger inside her. Neither of us was backing down and I got closer and closer to orgasm, willing it away so I wouldn't be the first to crack. I wanted to win. I had to beat Belle.

But when my orgasm finally arrived, Belle seemingly effortlessly pushing me over the edge with the touch of her lips and tongue on my clit, I wondered why I had ever resisted it. It felt amazing. I wanted her to make me cum all the time. I never wanted to get out of bed with her again. Competitiveness was totally overrated.

Freed of the burden of wanting to beat her, I let her make me cum again a few minutes later, her finger keeping a firm pressure on my g-spot until I couldn't take it any longer.

But when the third orgasm threatened to wash over me, I was lit once again with the desire to beat her. She couldn't just make me cum over and over like this. I had to do the same to her. I ignored my own feelings and focused on her, licking and sucking and kissing until she lifted her hips and silently begged me to do it. And when she did cum, it was better than anything I had ever achieved before. I rode high as she shook beneath me. I'd done it.

But my body was beginning to give up: my knees ached from kneeling above her and I was beginning to get cramp in the hand that was fingering her. I had to concede. And I wasn't upset about it. I knew when I'd been up against a powerful opponent. And ultimately, this was about orgasms. Everyone was a winner.

I uncoiled myself from her, sitting up, catching my breath. Belle laughed and I felt her hot breath on me again. She held my hips gently, steadying me. I felt blissful.

Then she kissed my pussy again, pulling me onto her. I gasped, her tongue pushing into me, and I sat back. She reached around with one hand and rubbed my clit, and I began seeing spots. Belle was so good and seemed to know exactly what to do to get me to-

This time, the orgasm arrived without much warning. I moaned loud again, this one feeling incredibly satisfying. I kept pushing against her mouth as it washed over me, fighting for breath. When I came down, I climbed off her, too sensitive for even the lightest touches, and I fell onto my back on the bed, panting hard, my tits going up and down until I felt self-conscious and wrapped my arm around them.

"I fucking win," Belle said triumphantly, springing up off the bed.

I wanted to smack her.

She looked at me, her cheeks flushed, full of the energy I recognised in her when she was excited. "Is it just me, or was that way better than fucking a guy?"

I giggled. "So much better. Absolutely no contest."

"I know. Wow, right?"

Wow really said it all.

If there was any doubt about how we felt about each other, the rest of the day put it to rest. It was full of little touches, quick kisses, meaningful looks and giggles, and a full-on snogging and groping session in the kitchen. We broke apart breathlessly, trying to pretend to make food while Phoebe got a bottle of mineral water from the fridge.

She gave us both strange looks and I blushed a bit, but Belle was braver than I was.

"Phoebe, there's something we should probably tell you, you know, for team coherence," she said, full steam ahead. "Caitlin and I... we're kind of, trying a romantic thing together."

Phoebe just snickered. "That explains the noise this morning. It's about time."

"Huh?" I asked.

She gave me the kind of smile you reserve for especially slow toddlers. "You two make a good couple. It's just taken you a while to see it."

Neither of us had plans in the afternoon so that meant one thing: Ghoul. Phoebe had a livestream event in her room so it was just the two of us. Belle mashed the start button until we reached character selection and I relaxed into the familiar presence of Bruce.

"Loser licks the winner's pussy?" Belle said off-hand, not looking away from the screen.

"Perfect," I replied, full of confidence as the match began.

Ten minutes later, I hurled the controller in frustration as Belle leapt off the sofa and laughed.

"Fucking me has made you soft!" she yelled, cackling with glee.

Abandoning the game, I grabbed her around the waist, tackling her so we both fell onto the soft sofa cushions. After brushing hair out of the way, I wasn't sure whose, we looked at each other.

Belle smiled and spoke first.

"You suck at Ghoul."

"Bitch."

She giggled. "You love me for it."

I kissed her nose.

What I wanted to say: Yes.

What I actually said: "Fuck off."

Maybe they meant the same thing.

THE END