The Unspoken Pass

heist of the century

In the heart of the night, at an hour when the world outside was silent and still, Lizzie's door was aggressively thrust open, creating an echoing bang that broke the stillness of the dark hours. Yet, the bed lay untouched, its occupant absent. The fury-driven footsteps moved quickly towards Hope's door, which was then violently slammed open, causing Lizzie and Hope to jerk awake in horror.

Standing there, with a storm of anger swirling in her eyes, was Hope's mother, clutching her phone like a weapon, its light illuminating her outraged face. "I gave you a clear warning, Hope," she spat venomously, "I expressly told you about the consequences if I ever found you and Lizzie like this again."

"Mom, just... just take a deep breath," Hope pleaded, still attempting to shake off the vestiges of sleep, her eyes widening with the realization of the looming confrontation. Lizzie, meanwhile, looked like a deer caught in headlights, the fear palpable in her widened eyes. "We were prepping for ice hockey, we just... fell asleep," Hope stammered, pointing to the evident proofs scattered around them - playbooks, scribbled strategies, and hockey paraphernalia.

But Hope's mother wasn't interested in explanations or evidence. "Then how do you explain THIS?" she roared, thrusting the phone towards Hope, the incriminating image on display: a vivid capture of Hope and Lizzie, their lips locked in an intimate embrace inside their car.

Time seemed to stand still as Hope's thoughts scrambled to find words, an explanation, anything. But her voice failed her.

With a voice dripping with scorn, Hope's mother turned to Lizzie, "I believed you were a decent girl, Lizzie. You are no longer welcome in this house."

Hope's heart raced, and without a second thought, she erupted with a force she never knew she possessed. "If Lizzie leaves, I'm leaving with her!" Her eyes blazed with an intensity that seemed foreign even to her.

"I am the authority here, Hope! You don't get to dictate terms to me!" her mother retorted, trying to maintain her dominant position.

But Hope was ready with her counter, "In two weeks, Mom, just two short weeks, I turn eighteen. Remember who the house legally belongs to? Dad willed it to me. And on that day, if you still want to continue this, you better have your things packed and be on your way out. Nik is welcome to stay. But if you can't accept me, if you're going to be this Homophobic asshole, you have no place here."

Silence reigned as Hope's mother found herself speechless, the tables turned on her. She had lost the upper hand and, with a final withering look, retreated, but not before making it clear that the war was far from over.

As the door clicked shut, Hope slowly turned, her eyes meeting Lizzie's, which were filled with a mixture of fear, admiration, and vulnerability. "Close the door," Lizzie whispered. Hope's lips curved into a soft smile, and as she drew closer to Lizzie, the two basically jumped at each other like two rabbits, their lips met with fire.

After the recent upheaval, an uneasy stillness settled over Hope's house. Lizzie, who used to sneak in for secret, hushed moments with Hope, now openly shared their space. They didn't hide their closeness, but there was an unspoken agreement - no kissing in front of Hope's mom. This wasn't out of fear but more of a silent rebellion, a little act of resistance against her obvious disapproval.

Nik, Hope's younger brother, was a tad confused with the sudden shift in dynamics. Watching his sister and Lizzie, he sensed the changes but couldn't piece everything together. Hope, seeing his confusion, decided to sit him down and explain. She spoke of her bond with Lizzie, skimming over their mom's prejudices because she wanted Nik to retain a positive image of their mother.

Nik's reaction was simple and pure. All that mattered to him was that his sister seemed happier than he'd seen her in a long time. If Lizzie was the reason for that joy, then as far as he was concerned, she was more than welcome in their lives.