“Which is exactly why there was never going to be a better way.” Darcy shrugged, offering a self-deprecating smile. She knew herself; she’d have never responded well to that revelation.
And she believed that was a fair reaction on her part, to being told that everything was about to change in the blink of an eye. Or, what felt to her, like the blink of an eye.
“Maybe…” Emerson trailed off, a hopeful edge working into her voice. “We can still write music together, sometimes? Even while you’re off with Juliet, living the big Hollywood life?”
“Of course we can.” She didn’t have to think twice about it.
She’d never trust anyone’s ear – save for possibly Juliet’s – the way she trusted Emerson’s, and she couldn’t see that changing.
“How did you know Juliet’s here?”
“Darcy, everyone is talking about her showing up at the bowling alley and how cool it was. They can’t believe you’rereally, truly good friends with her.” Emerson’s voice was alight with bubbling laughter that she clearly tried to bite back.
Darcy didn’t even bother to hold back her own.
Darcy walkeddown Blythe’s driveway, her fingers lightly linked with Juliet’s now that they were out at Blythe’s farmhouse and not in the center of Pineford.
Juliet was the first one to break away, this time, as she looked over to the large, detached garage. The door was open, music spilling out. “I’m going to tell Colton I apologize for giving him the brush off a few months ago. I can imagine he took it personally.”
“He did,” she agreed, before she shrugged. “But he doesn’t really hold a grudge.” Still, though, she loved that Juliet wanted to acknowledge it and talk to him about it.
Which was good; Darcy wanted to talk to Blythe by herself. Especially now that she felt marginally better than she had, earlier. Now that she and Emerson had mended things, she felt better.
This time, before Juliet turned to walk away, she glanced around. They were out in the open, but no one was around for acres on Blythe’s farm. Darcy wanted it, wanted Juliet’s kiss, but she held still.
If Juliet wanted to kiss her anywhere in public, she’d happily take it. But Juliet had to be the one to initiate it.
Darcy found at this point, she didn’t care if anyone – ifeveryone– knew about her sexuality. She didn’t even know what her future was going to be, if she’d be offered another album! But she did know the only things she would be afraid to lose were Juliet, Blythe, Emerson, and her music.
She and Juliet were solid, now. In a way that almost defied logic, Juliet was the most stable place in her heart. And when they went back to L.A., they weren’t going to have to live a lie. They’d live discreetly, but not making up some sort of pretense.
They were going to figure it out. She felt sure about that.
She could feel the way Juliet’s fingers shook slightly with nerves, before she quickly leaned in and brushed her lips over Darcy’s. Just for a second, but it waseverything, and Darcy felt herself smiling like a fucking idiot.
Juliet’s cheeks were dark and she was breathing heavily, like she’d run a marathon. But it was the first time she’d ever done anything like that, and Darcy was… she was honored.
With that, Juliet sharply nodded, and turned to walk toward the garage.
Darcy stared after her for a few seconds. Wow. Just, wow.
Blythe gutturally cleared her throat, making Darcy jump, turning to see her standing on the porch. Her sister was leaning against the railing, watching them.
It looked as though Blythe wanted to smile and tease her, but wasn’t sure if she should. If Darcy would be open to receiving it.
She slid her gaze from her sister’s, looking up at the house for several moments, before she trekked toward the stairs.
“You know,” she started, reaching the top step, and immediately turning to lean against the rail next to her sister, looking out at the land. “It really is something. Now that I can step back and think about it.”
Now that she had to mentally put up the divide between her and Blythe, now that she had to really face their different paths for the first time.
“What is?” Blythe asked.
“This.” She reached her hand out in front of them, waving it to encompass the farm. How it looked with the sun starting to set in the distance over the trees. “I mean… all the times we’dride our bikes out here when we were little, and look at this place from the end of the driveway?” Not just this house, but many of the other farms and sprawling residences out on the edges of town.
Houses. Not apartments or mobile homes. On their own land, where you couldn’t hear your neighbors fighting or hear their television over your own.
They’d ride their bikes around all day while their mom was either working or with one of her boyfriends or when she’d disappear for a couple of days doing god only knew what. And they’d talk to one another about what it must be like to live in a place like this.
