I’d have a month to get over my silly unrequited crush,because that’s all it had been, hadn’t it?Once I’d had time to recalibrate, I’d smooth things over with Jeremy and we could get back to how we were.
Back in my room, I packed the small stack of books I was bringing home into my rucksack, folded my clothes into a neat pile and pulled my suitcase out from under the bed. Then I sat for a moment, hugging my mum’s blanket like it was her. I wasn’t very good at confronting my problems. I recalled the way people had tried to get me to talk after my mum had died. But my grief was just that —mine.So I swallowed it down. The irony of studying psychology hadn’t escaped me — I was figuring out the keys to unlock others, whilst learning how to bolt myself more firmly shut. I imagined speaking to my mum about my feelings for Francesca. I was sure she’d have understood and helped me make sense of it all, but I wasn’t ready to come out to the hostile world, at least not for a girl who didn’t even want me.
With my suitcase packed, I clicked Play on my Walkman, gathered up my dirty dishes and shuffled to the kitchenette in my bunny slippers. I hummed along to Enya as I plunged my hands into a bowl of soapy water.
A pair of arms wrapped around my waist. I caught the sweet scent of her and froze.
Francesca buried her face in my hair and inhaled.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “What are you doing?”
“I’m hugging you.”
“Why?”
She answered by squeezing tighter. I squirmed around in her arms, hands dripping as I reached for a tea towel.
“Francesca, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but?—”
“Shh!” she said so close to my face I could smell the Purple on her hot breath.
“You’re drunk.”
“No, you are.” She giggled and pressed herself against me, pinning me to the sink. Her lips and tongue were stained deep red.My God, I want to kiss her.
“Let me get you some water.”
She dropped her arms from my waist and stepped back. “What’s your problem?”
“Nothing, I just… I’m just trying to…”
I dried the glass I’d washed and filled it with cold water. She took it from me and gulped a mouthful, all the while glaring at me through makeup-smudged eyes, like the first time I’d met her.
“Why haven’t you ever kissed me?”
My chest lurched. “What?”
“You do want to kiss me, right?”
I had to tear my eyes away from the droplets of water glistening on her top lip.
“I… what about Jeremy? Aren’t you two dating?”
“Noooooooo.” She drew out the word until her lips settled into a cocky grin.
“But…”
“But, what?” she hiccupped. “You’ve been the one acting all aloof.”
“Yeah, because… I thought…” I frowned, staring down at the sticky linoleum as I tried to figure out what I’d thought because now it all seemed so hazy.
What I had seen was Jeremy exiting Francesca’s room looking smug and shifty, that was all… and then I’d avoided spending time with the two of them. I really had leapt to something, hadn’t I?
With my psychology hat on, I considered that maybe I was looking for an excuse not to deal with my feelings for her. Perhaps believing Francesca was with Jeremy was easier than confronting my sexuality; it was easier than coming out.
When I looked up at her again, her dark eyes were boring into me.
“I… er…” I squeezed the back of my neck and blurted, “I think I’m a lesbian.”
