Chapter 4
“Come on, Pamela. Please tell me you hit that.”
Selina was leaning on the bar next to Ivy, her eyes hooded and her expression almost predatory. Ivy knew exactly what she was staring at. What they were both staring at.
Harley Quinn in her bedazzled booty shorts, tank top so tight it was practically a second skin, and flowing pale hair as she jumped up and down on the club dance floor. The lights played out over her lithe body, showcasing the toned muscles Harley received from hours of cheer practice every week.
She was annoyingly beautiful.
“I don’t kiss and tell.”
Selina shot her a look.
“You also don’t make friends, darling, yet here we are.” Selina’s smile was sharp. Nothing like Harley’s wide open grins. “I, for one, am proud. I would hate for someone as gorgeous as you to end up a recluse.”
“I’m not a recluse,” Ivy rolled her eyes.
“Almost. I’m surprised though… Harleen doesn’t seem your type. She’s very… energetic.”
Selina said this with a faint sneer, her long nails clicking against the bar top. Ivy scowled.
“She’s passionate.”
“Defensive,” Selina purred. “My, darling. Attachment becomes you.”
“Fuck off.”
This is why Ivy hated interacting with people. She only came out tonight because she hadn’t seen Selina in a couple weeks, and now she was regretting it. She could have been at home, on her couch, watching a movie. With Harley, because apparently one movie night meant movie nights three times a week to the blonde. Not that Ivy necessarily minded. Harley was oddly enthusiastic about Ivy’s nature documentaries which everyone else called boring, which meant Ivy suffered through Bring It On one, two, and three.
Harley, apparently tired of dancing with half the club’s eyes on her, came bounding up.
“You two are absolutely no fun at all,” She said with a pout. Her accent was looser, the drinks making her words syrupy soft. “You’re supposeta dance at a club, not sit there sippin’ and starin.”
“But then who would watch you as you danced, pretty,” Selina drawled, lips curved. Ivy shot her a look.
“You can watch and dance,” Harley said earnestly, completely missing the flirtation. The disgruntled look that crossed Selina’s face amused Ivy greatly. “Oh— what’s that?”
Harley didn’t wait for an answer, instead leaning forward and pulling the straw in Ivy’s drink into her mouth. Ivy looked up at the ceiling. She obviously needed to get laid, if she was focused on the way Quinn’s lips looked wrapped around a straw.
“Holy guacamole.” Harley pulled back with a cough. “What is that? An entire cup’a everclear?”
Ivy smiled, shaking her head at the wide-eyed look on Harley’s face.
“It’s a drink that won’t give you diabetes, Quinn.”
“If my drinks ain’t got sugar, I don’t want ‘em,” Harley said grandly. She turned and pointed at Selina. “Kitty-cat over here agrees with me.”
“Kitty cat,” Selina said, affronted.
Maybe socializing was worth it after all. Ivy turned and grabbed the drink that was resting right behind her on the bar top, handing it over to Harley. The blonde brightened, snatching it out of Ivy’s hands, her grin wide and beaming.
“You’re the best friend ever, Pammy,” she exclaimed. “It’s even got an umbrella!”
“Yeah, Pammy,” Selina added dryly. “Truly the bestest of friends.”
Ivy scoffed and didn’t deign either of them with a response. She had gotten Harley a drink, not a fucking winning lottery ticket. Harley, though, pressed into Ivy’s space and wrapped an arm around her waist. Harley was soft and warm pressed up against Ivy, and something in Ivy’s chest caught.
“My Pammy,” Harley said, voice dreamy, nuzzling her forehead against Ivy’s shoulder. “Like a soft little marshmallow underneath all those thorns.”
Ivy’s gaze caught Selina’s. Her friend was staring at them, something knowing in her expression that Ivy didn’t like. She was going to nudge Harley off, but a familiar ringtone had the blonde shoving away before she could.
“Puddin’” Harley said happily into the phone. “Glad ya called.”
Selina moved closer to Ivy.
“Puddin’?” She said under her breath.
“The boyfriend,” Ivy replied, taking a long pull of her drink.
Selina’s only response was a raise of her brows.
“Yeah, yeah,” Harley continued on, oblivious to the exchange. “I’m out at— well I… I did tell ya—“
Harley’s finger’s tightened around the phone until her knuckles were white. The smile dropped clear off her face. She stared at a point in the distance, eyes wide, her other hand reaching up to grab at the choker around her neck. Ivy stiffened.
“Puddin, I—“ Harley’s voice was small. “I thought I told ya— you. I know— I…. Ok. Okay, puddin. I’m sorry.”
Harley pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at the screen for a couple seconds. She let out a soft breath before looking up, her smile trembling.
“Guess I forgot to tell Mista J I was coming out tonight,” Harley said. “Idiot, me. I can be so forgetful sometimes, ya know?”
“Your boyfriend isn’t in charge of you, darling,” Selina said, drawing up a brow. “You’re allowed a night out with friends.”
Harley’s thumb rubbed back and forth over the choker. Back and forth.
“I— I know.” She hunched her shoulders in, as if making herself smaller. “It’s just… he gets worried. I hate makin’ him worried. I better… get back.”
“Quinn.” Ivy was grasping at something she couldn’t quite yet understand. “Stay. Fuck your boyfriend. He sounds like an asshole.”
Harley gasped, eyes flying up to Ivy. “N-no, Ives. He’s just— he loves me. He does. And if I don’t head back now… puddin’ just gets worried. That’s all.”
Ivy shifted back towards Selina. Whatever. She didn’t concern herself with relationship drama. If Harley wanted to choose Joker over them, that was her choice. Ivy didn’t care at all.
“See you around, Quinn.”
She could see Harley biting her lip out of the corner of her eye.
“Studying Monday, yeah?”
“Sure.”
Ivy didn’t watch Harley leave.
Selina tilted her head, studying Ivy. “Thought you were supposed to be a genius, Pamela.”
“I am.”
Smarter than most idiot humans, anyway.
“Nothing smart about getting yourself wrapped up in that, Pammy.” Selina twirled a finger around in the air, her eyes glinting. “I might be cold-hearted, but I’d hate to see you hurt.”
“No one hurts me.”
It was the truth. No one got close enough to Ivy to hurt her. Ivy was barbed and thorned, and her sharp edges kept everyone away. Everyone except for Harley Quinn, who kept coming back for more before leaving. For her douchebag boyfriend.
Ivy didn’t give a fuck.
“There.” Ivy jutted out her chin at two friends standing by a bar top. “You take the blonde, I’ll take the brunette.”
Selina lifted a shoulder. “Whatever you say, Pamela.”
Ivy did not think about Harley when she was fucking the brunette that night. She did not think about the fact that Harley and Joker were probably having sex that very moment. She didn’t picture Joker’s meaty hands gripping Harley’s delicate blonde hair. The way the asshole football player would surely drive into her, with no care for her pleasure.
She didn’t think about that night all those months ago, Harley soft and eager underneath her. How beautifully the blonde responded to gentle touches. The way her pupils had nearly engulfed her blue irises entirely, how her voice went slightly hoarse near the end of it. The way, afterwards, Harley nuzzled up against Ivy and traced nonsensical patterns into her skin.
Ivy didn’t think about any of that at all.