Explicit [GirlxGirl - Complete]

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Mom kisses my cheek. Her hands don't linger. I expect them to. She doesn't spare a smile, nothing that looks remotely like the past her. In my gut, I feel it has something to do with Carol. She shaping my mom into the best friend she's never had.

I can't help but think they look cute together. Carol smiles widely down at Mom, her arm slung over her small shoulders. She steers her to the front door, talking her ear off as they leave the house, and walk down to where our car is parked.

Saturday is burned into my head. Along with the scent of chlorine, the feeling of my skin peeling, and the look on Lianna's face when I told her off. All those instances flicker through my mind. A window pane opens and in comes the horrid memories I thought I'd buried when I was younger.

Friends. I thought I had at least one.

I'm glad Mom got one.

My legs climb up the stairs on their own. Without even a thought, I'm standing on the second floor.

She's there. Almost like she was waiting for me.

"I've got something to show you," she says.

I pause. My hand lingers on the stair pole. I let my hand slip away and rest by my side. "That's what you always say."

"It'll be our secret."

It would be so much easier to say no. I know that is what I should be doing instead of following her into her bedroom. I'm weaker than I thought, weaker than I was before I met her. But when the smoke clears and I'm back in my bedroom, I also know I'll be looking back at this moment with a sense of fullfillment.

She opens the door and lets me in. It feels funny walking into a room that use to be a part of my space. Though we never used it for anything other than storage, seeing it transformed into someone else's home was bizarre.

The door frame was adorned with lace fabric and beaded string that fell down to the floor. She pulled the slight curtain to the side and let it catch onto a hook that was screwed into the wall. The room was an assortment of color. The two twin beds were pushed up against opposite walls. Though each side of the room was different, vastly so to the point that I knew exactly which bed was Lianna's and which one was Carol's, the colors and schemes blended well. They look like they were part of something greater than just a bedroom decor.

Carol's side was all about color. Blues, yellows, reds, and greens flowed in and out from her bedding to her clothes that were stacked neatly on a bamboo shelf. The picture frames above her bed were of her, other women and men I did not know, and of Lianna. Lianna as a little girl all the way until now.

The table to the side of the bed was covered in change, scrap material, and string. She was an artist.

But the thing that stood out like a sore thumb, were the awards next to the picture frames.

They didn't belong there was my first thought. I thought maybe they were some weird decoration she picked up from a flear market or something.

But no. Her name, Carol Coates, was on every single one of them.

It started with a blue ribbon and then it worked itself up to a large golden trophy that took up half the shelf on the wall. Then, next to that shelf was a jersey in its own frame.

The connection didn't click until Lianna pointed to the next picture in the line up.

"That's her," she says in a sort of proudful voice. It's strange. I almost don't believe it.