The roar of the party hit Alice all at once, and she grabbed Briar’s arm, feeling dizzy. Briar turned to her, confusion in her eyes.
‘Can we talk?’ Alice asked.
Chapter 15
Briar
Alice was looking at her, eyes glassy, and Briar suddenly felt too exposed in the swarm of people huddled in her living room. She slid a hand into Alice’s and wondered if hands could remember each other, as their fingers found their preferred positions through memory alone.
She tugged Alice through the crowd and up the stairs, leading her down the hall towards her bedroom, the roar of the party cutting out as Briar closed the door behind them. A salt lamp, nestled among the trinket dishes on her dresser, cast the room in a soft pink light.
She’d cleaned up a bit, on the off chance the party made it to the second floor, but she still felt self-conscious having Alice in her room. Most of the furniture had come from her childhood bedroom, taken from the house she’d grown up in when her mom had moved closer to camp. Distantly, she recognized her bed was the same one she and Alice had slept in during countless sleepovers.
Alice watched her, a dazed look on her face that Briar knew meant she’d had one too many drinks.
‘Do you want to lie down?’ Briar asked. In high school, the roles had been reversed. Briar had always been the one letting loose, with Alice taking care of her. But the urge to make sure Alice was okay was something Briar felt instinctively.
Alice shook her head, but sat on the bed. ‘I talked to Noah.’
Briar nodded, though she was confused by this topic of conversation. Noah wasn’t a subject they’d broached in their few weeks together and Briar had taken him as one of the things, among many, that would remain unspoken between them.
‘And?’ she said, when it looked like Alice wouldn’t say more. Alice sighed, letting her head fall into her hands. For a moment, Briar was worried she might be crying, but when she raised her head again her eyes were dry, and maybe a bit clearer.
‘He didn’t know about us,’ she said, gaze boring into Briar. She had the vague sense that something between them was shifting, but didn’t know how. ‘You didn’t tell him about us.’
The way she said it was more a question than a statement, and Briar nodded again. ‘Of course not.’
As she said it, she wondered if it would have been obvious to anyone else. She couldn’t explain why she had never told Noah about the kiss; it wasn’t as if there hadn’t been moments she had considered it. But what had started as simple self-preservation had become a secret too sacred and twisted to share with anyone else. That night had only ever been between her and Alice.
‘Why not?’ Alice asked.
That was Alice, needing the empirical evidence of every situation, needing to know the catalyzing event and the resulting reactions. It was something Briar admired about her, but that also left her feeling like she’d never fully measure up. Briar couldn’t contain her feelings to strict labels. She often didn’t know the reasons why she did anything, and certainly not well enough to explain them to anyone else.
Alice was looking at her intently, like whatever Briar said next was vitally important. It was a kind of pressure that Briar couldn’t handle, not surrounded by her mother’s old furniture, not with her entire future still only outlined in pencil.
‘What was I supposed to say? That you gave me my first kiss and it was so bad you had to flee the country?’ Briar joked. Alice visibly deflated, her whole body slumping.
‘That’s not why,’ she mumbled into her hands. Her hair fell in a curtain around her, hiding her expression. It looked lighter in the pink glow of the lamp, reminding Briar of its color in high school. Briar had obsessed over her hair, convinced there was power in its sheen. Alice had worn it like a weapon, or, now Briar realized, maybe more like a shield. ‘It was a good kiss.’
Briar grinned despite herself, some part of her still needing to hear that from Alice, though it was a small consolation for nearly a decade of heartache. Without thinking, she crossed the room to sit beside her.
‘I’ve gotten better.’
Alice scoffed, leaning to the side. Her warm skin brushed Briar’s, and the pressure was back in her lungs, making it hard to breathe. She thought about the last time they’d been this close, in the cabin, with Alice’s lips just a hairbreadth away. If she was being honest with herself, she hadn’t stopped thinking about it, and now it was consuming her.
Briar’s hand moved without conscious thought, coming to rest on Alice’s thigh just below the hem of her shorts, her thumb rubbing at the frayed edge there. Alice inhaled sharply, her head turning, bringing her face much closer to Briar’s.
‘If this is your best move, I’m not so sure,’ she teased, and Briar flushed. Maybe it was being away from camp, maybe it was being in her own room, but having Alice there with her was like something out of a dream.
‘I could prove it to you.’ It came out as a whisper.
‘We did get interrupted last time,’ Alice said, her hand skimming up Briar’s arm. ‘One kiss couldn’t hurt.’
It was an echo of what she’d said years ago, and Briar fell for it just the same. She had the same rush in her ears, the same frenetic energy in her veins singing thatthis was it, this was happening, finally, finally, finally. She leaned in.
Her lips pressed against Alice’s slowly but firmly. She breathed in the smell of beer and something vaguely sweet that she recognized as Alice’s skin. And then Alice’s hand tangled into her hair, cupping the back of her skull and pulling her closer. She nipped at Briar’s lower lip, moaning softly.
She’d forgotten that this was how Alice kissed, fast and wild. For all the control Alice exercised in her life, there was nothing of it in the press of her lips. She kissed so desperately that Briar struggled to breathe.
