Before The Storm ( wlw / lesbian )

Chapter 14

It was 9 pm on Saturday night when  Grace walked into Matt's small home, packed to the brim with teens of all kinds. Nerds, jocks, cheerleaders, outcasts. They were off in their own cliques, barely even aware that she was back.

"Hey Grace! Long time no see!" Matt barrelled into her, a very drunken blonde under his arm. "Grab whatever drink you want from the kitchen! Or food! I got lots and lots!" he broke out laughing. Okay, so he was drunk too?

"Thank you Matthew, Susie." She nodded and regarded after her cousin who giggled back as a response. 

"I missed youuuuu where did you gooo," the blonde drawled out, her breath hot with the scent of vodka and... something else sweet? Her hands were cold and clammy as they grasped tightly to hers. Grace winced. She wasn't sure what she expected returning to town- perhaps a little more fanfare, but this was as if shed been gone a week and not several months.

"I missed you too, Susie."

Grace quickly excused herself and stuck to the walls on her mission toward the kitchen table, wiping her hands on her jeans to remove her cousin's sweat to find a variety of bottles and cans of different liquor staring back up at her. She grimaced at the all too familiar feeling of the last time she had been in this house, and all of the events that unfolded afterward. Her heart panged at the brief flicker of dark chocolate eyes in her mind's eye, and quickly busied herself with pouring some fruit juice into a cup. 

And a tentative yet generous poor of 40% Absolute Raspberry. Grace took a deep gulp and shivered at the unfamiliar feeling bathing her belly in a deep heat, that same itching feeling of guilt scratched at her despite being away from home for so long. She took another sip. It was as if somehow they would know. They would always know, the same as the man upstairs. Not that she questioned her religious beliefs, but more like she knew it was okay to disagree with what a priest or the Bible said provided it's minuscule enough not to matter.

Like eating shellfish and wearing mixed fabric, or drinking at a party.

She continued to sip on the cup, surveying the room. Everyone was laughing and dancing clumsily, which was strange due to her former cheer squads ability to move their feet without looking like waddling baby ducks. She's the outside pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. She knows what the picture is supposed to look like, but she can't quite fill it in

Another strange sight beholding her eyes was a huddle of students whomsts names she could barely recall, dishing out fine lines of a pink powder, while others were pouring small packets directly into their mouths. Apparently during her absence from Clairfield, drugs were surfacing.

Suddenly she felt too warm and dizzy and balanced herself up the stairs to Matt's spare room, deciding she needed space from the incapacitated teens. Fiddling around at the top of the doorframe for the key. Matt never wanted anyone hanging out in the rooms, and  kept it locked up for safekeeping. But she knew practically everything about the Nancy Drew Crew of Clairfield High.

She felt the cool steel of the key under her fingertips and plucked it up, wiping the dust on her jeans before unlocking the door, closing it softly behind her. She let out a breath it felt like she had been holding in since she drove back into town, and sat on the windowsill, seeing teens- including Shasta and Wonderboy rolling around in the grass. She briefly wondered if Toni were there but dismissed it as curiosity, and nothing more. She left for her. Left so she wouldn't be burdened by Grace anymore, or face the resentment Grace knows lives in the colour of her eyes whether she means it to or not. She wasn't about to undo all the progress she had made, progress meaning she doesn't feel like she needs to off herself for the betterment of man kind.

Grace had so deeply engraved the fact that she was a mistake into her brain, but that didn't mean she had to live like it too. It's very new to her, the feeling of wanting to be kind to herself. To be better. It felt like the feeling she got when drawing, but more... tangible? It didn't feel as intentional. It was messy and emotions went everywhere.