Ange (girlxgirl)

Chapter Thirty-eight

I smile at the rise and fall of her breathing, I could not be happier. I'm so happy that I have hardly thought of Emma, them thoughts have just slipped away or they aren't bad enough to outweigh the good. I roll onto my back and sigh, I desperately want sleep but of course my brain doesn't think it is necessary. It is 6am and I could get up, but I haven't slept all night and the alcohol is starting to diminish in my system, creating a comedown. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and get up, finding my underwear on the ground and pulling it on, I need water urgently.

I pour a glass of water and look around for painkillers, when I find them I take three and wash them down with a big mouthful of water. I sit down in the glass convex at the end of the hall, the rising sun makes me feel warm and even happier, I curl my legs beneath me and finish the water. I feel sleepy now, I could go to sleep, never wake and be perfectly happy with who I have chosen to love. I know it is illegal, even though I'm 18, Nat is my teacher and she could go to jail. I shuffle down the hall, crawling back into bed beside Nat and wrapping my arm around her, she subconsciously grabs it and my heart sings.

It is 10am when I wake and Nat is still beside me, my hand resting on her stomach. I roll over and look at the ceiling, the painkillers have stopped my head from being extremely sore, but it hasn't stopped the slight headache I have and a small hangover. I don't know how I have pulled through this well considering all of the alcohol I drank. I get out of bed and walk into the ensuite, looking at myself in the mirror. My hair is crusty with sweat and my face tastes salty, I need a shower. I turn the water on, standing under it and letting it wash me clean. It relaxes my muscles and gives me time to think about Emma, what should I do about her? Hopefully Carol hasn't taken any sides because I just want it to be over with. I plan out multiple conversations and rehearse them in my head, all end up shit. I wonder what people thought of the party, they all seemed happy when I was there. There was food, drinks, drugs, music and a place to sleep, how could they not have liked it? I shut off the tap and get out, walking into the wardrobe and putting on a too big jumper and some socks, I let my hair out to dry, it is already going curly. My stomach grumbles as I cross back through the bedroom looking at Nat, who is smiling slightly in her sleep. I'm starving.

I settle into an armchair, flicking through the records and picking out a favourite. I sit back and sip on my tea, resting my toast on my knee as I hum along to the lyrics. I'm at the level of hangover where I feel it would be easier to drink through it than try and sober up, it is a tempting option because my bottle of vodka is right beside the door. I get up and grab it, looking at it in desire but also caution, I unscrew the cap and then screw it back on straight away, I'm not going to drink through this hangover, I set the bottle down on the vinyl cabinet. I hear footsteps behind me and arms grab me around my neck, Nat kisses me on the cheek.

"Hey," I say and turn to kiss her.

"Hey." She replies, going into the kitchen and putting on some toast. She is wearing only a t-shirt and lace underwear. "How long have you been up for?"

"40 minutes."

"Didn't get much sleep, then?"

"Three and a bit, that is like a sorta bad night," I say casually.

"What do you mean?" She half laughs.

"I have insomnia." I say simply, getting up and flicking the kettle on.

"Oh." She butters her toast and smiles at me while I wait for the kettle to boil.

"What?" I ask when I notice she is doing this.

"We don't know much about each other, do we?" She says.

"You know about me and I know a little about you." I say, trying to steer away from talking about myself.

"Ok then, Miss Clever, what do you know about me?" She says mockingly.

I think for a second. "Your Mum died when you were young, your Dad isn't your number 1 fan after something, you didn't finish your accounting course but were a partner in a huge firm, you are sisters with Mrs Denver, you worked at your aunty's firm when you were like 12." I reach my hand under her shirt and grab her boob. "And, I know how to make you come."

She squeals girlishly. "Ange!" She gushes, elbowing me away.

The kettle beeps and I pour two cups of fresh tea, taking them around to the table where we sit beside each other.

"So, what happened before you got here last night? You were a wreck."

"I was perfectly composed, thank you," I say weakly.

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on! You were slurring you much I could hardly understand you and staggering around the place. You had a whole bottle of vodka in your hand."

"Shit, that isn't how I remember it." I say, thinking back to last night, remembering it as being balanced and clear.

"So?" She urges.

"Nothing," I shrug.

She raises her eyebrows at me.

"Don't do that thing," I say to her.

She raises them higher and more exaggeratedly.

I laugh. "I was fine, I promise," I assure.

She sighs and looks at me fondly. "Your mascara was smudged under your eyes and they were all red. So, you were either smoking really strong weed or been crying."

"Fine," I groan. "I'll tell you. Emma was drunk and she said somethings, I had drunk like 6 mixed vodka cans, fair bit of tequila and vodka and sips out of strangers cans, so I lost my temper and hit her." I pull out my hand, I haven't looked at it yet. It isn't to bad, only slightly swollen and one of my knuckles have sorta spilt. "Then, everyone was staring and I was like, bitch ain't gonna stand around waiting to sign autographs for knocking a bitch out, so I left. I got Tommy and his boyfriend to drive me here."

"What did Emma say?" She asks gently, laying her hand on mine.

"The normal drunk girl wanting to get with a boy but someone, me, is in her way."

Nat frowns at me and I cock my head to mirror her expression obviously.

"Must have really been nasty if you came all this way to tell me you love me," she says cheekily.

I grab her empty plate and take it to the sink for cleaning, I want to avoid what Emma said last night for as long as possible.

"I didn't need a reality shock to tell me that, I needed that and vodka to tell you."

"I could get used to this." She says lustfully, coming around behind and grabbing me by the waist.

"So could I, maybe not doing the dishes, though." I say, scrubbing the plates. "If I have to do this every time I'll end up hitting someone over the head with a pan."

She hooks a finger on the inside of my pants and pulls them out, she starts to kiss the inside of my neck again.

"Fuck it. The dishes can wait." I whisper as I pull my hands out of the water and run them up her shirt.

She grabs my hands and leads me to the couch as the record spins to a stop.