Upper Six (Completed, Being Edited)

Epilogue: City Lights

6 months later

"Fiona–"

"I'm coming," I insist. Today, Laura and I have Spanish together, a free elective that we decided to do together.

"Your eye..." she says disapprovingly.

"No," I insist, "I'll be fine." I have this habit of rubbing my eye sometimes, until it's swollen and sore. Today is just one of those days. Sighing, I go into one of our drawers and get the eye drops, to alleviate the pain.

"Everyone is going to be grossed out by it. Just a heads-up," she forewarns.

"Yeah, but–"

"And you increase your chances of getting it even more irritated by going outside. What if some dirt or dust gets in it? It's windy outside," she informs me.

"I'll wear my glasses," I tell her. She frowns at me.

"There's still a chance– alright," she concedes. Once I'm done with the eye drops, I put it on the dresser, blinking a few times, before putting on my glasses. I pick up my backpack, and so does she.

"Well," she says, "I still think you're beautiful, even if your eye is fucked up."

I smile at her, my hand on the door handle.

"You're not too bad yourself," I say. She leans in and kisses me, her soft lips going slowly. Once we're done, we exit the room. The ride downstairs in the elevator is quiet, with her holding my hand and stroking the back of it with her thumb. A lot of these people at school probably don't know that we're together. Well, with the exception of Tyrone and Troy, who both live off campus, and some girls we went to school with. I haven't heard anyone else comment about that video that we were in, but then again, most people would probably not say anything to us. People may think that we're just best friends. Maybe even sisters, or cousins. At this point, if they aren't doing anything to sabotage or hurt us, I don't give a flying f*ck about what they think of my relationship with her.

When we get to Spanish, I can see that the other students immediately notice my eye, by the way they look at me.

"What happened to your eye?" Frankie, a tall, skinny Asian girl with short, bright pink hair, says with concern in her voice.

"She likes rubbing her eye," Laura says by way of explanation.

"Oh," Frankie responds.

We sit side by side, and pay attention to what is being said. I lean my head on her shoulder, as I take notes. She wraps her right hand around me as she writes with her left hand – she's ambidextrous – and before I know it, the class is done.

"I have something to show you," she says as we pack up our belongings. My eye feels less shitty than it did two hours ago but it's still sore. I get up and follow her, back to 138 hall. "I'm taking you somewhere special," she tells me.

"Should I change? I ask her. I'm in a lousy dress and a half-assed head tie.

"Not necessary," she says. We go upstairs and she grabs my car keys, and two sweaters, before we go back downstairs. "It's only about 15 minutes away," she tells me.

"Alright." It's a bit past 7 p.m., dark.

"Can you give me a hint?" I ask.

"No," she says with a smirk as she starts up the car. We eventually end up in Karachi Avenue, which I recognise, but we end up driving through it, only to end up on a winding road, gong up a hill. It's dark and lonely, but the road is in relatively good shape.

"What–"

"Just wait," she tells me. We eventually end up in front of a guard post, with two lanes. Laura drives into the left lane, and as we reach the guard post, she winds down the window. She says her name, but catches my attention when she says she's here to see "Tyrone Fenton".

"Why are we seeing Tyrone? And how does the guard know who you are?"

"I told Ty to call him in advance, and I'm not here to see Tyrone. I am here to show you something, though."

We drive slowly, past a grassy field, and a pool.

"Look to your left, out my window," she tells me. I follow her instructions and gasp. All of New Kingston, Port Royal, and the sorounding area are lit up by night lights for me to see. "I remembered you saying that you loved city lights," she says. I said that looking at a picture in her old bedroom of a city, from above. "I figured you'd like it."

I'm actually surprised she even remembers.

She drives further down, until we can't see the lights, only to park at a dead end with a clearing, and some seats on it. She hands me a sweater and puts one on herself. We leave the car and go to sit on them. We're the only ones out here, thank God.

"Thank you," I say to her. She smiles and kisses me. This is probably the most romantic thing she's done for me, and it's so sweet it makes my heart melt.

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Sweetheart. I love it when she gets tender and loving with me. Even when she isn't, even when she's angry or sad or spiteful, I still love her. With all of her flaws, I love her, and I know she loves me too, with every cell in her body. I won't give her up, I won't let her go, and I know she'll fight for me, just as I fight for her.

My name is Fiona Erickson; I love Laura Thompson with every cell in my body, and who ever has a problem with it can kiss my ass and f*ck right off.