Chapter 2: Girls Just Want to Have Fun
The bus stopped at a rather quiet corner and let a single girl escape its stuffy confines. She walked three blocks until she reached her house, big and furious steps leading up the stone path and further to the front door. The girl grumbled as a key was retrieved from one of her pockets, and shoved into the keyhole after scraping along it three times, turning with a satisfying and resounding click.
Amelia Jones burst inside, the door slamming shut behind her before she stormed up the stairs, biting away angry tears that were more rage than actual sadness; perhaps a hint of self-pity. A door opened to her right and she increased her pace, ignoring the soft voice calling out to her until she was safely inside her bedroom, door slammed shut again, and leaning against it with thumping heart and angry growls and hisses.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Amelia furiously spat at herself, slipping to the ground where she could hug her knees tightly to her bosom, cursing herself for not thinking things through. Oh yes, she had successfully escaped the evil gynaecologist! And what now, huh?! What if she suddenly got, like, vagina cancer? She'd have to go back there! Only now, they would know her by name and face, and it would be a thousand times more embarrassing than it ever could have been had she just gone through with it the first time. Amelia angrily unknotted her hair and threw the band across the room, where it disappeared beneath her closet, making her curse even louder.
A soft knock interrupted her despair. "Ames? Is everything all right?" came the muffled voice of Maddie, dearest Madeline, her twin sister, her beloved other half. "How did it go?"
"It went FINE!" Amelia shouted back, indicating with every syllable that things were in fact, not fine at all. The complete opposite of fine. Un-fine? Anti-fine? Because that was how she felt.
"Can I come in?" Maddie asked hesitantly. Amelia sighed and shuffled aside so the door could be opened. She couldn't possible let out her anger on Maddie. That just wouldn't be right.
The door did indeed open, a face poking inside. While they shared great resemblances (the soft layer of freckles covering their faces, the shape of their hands, fine nose above a much wider mouth), there were many more differences. It lay in the colour of their hair, eyes and skin (Amelia's much more tanned than Maddie's), it lay in their voice, their temperament, their thought processes. While Amelia loved being surrounded by dozens of friends all paying attention to her, as she made them laugh and smile, Madeline was the prime example of the infamous Introvert. Where Amelia was always the first to speak her mind, Maddie took the time to think, and knew when to keep her thoughts to herself. Still, they loved each other through thick and thin, supported one another, and shared many interests.
Maddie knew exactly how to handle her sister when she was upset, for example. Instead of rolling her eyes and calling her a baby or chastising her for being so stupid, she simply sat down next to her, patiently waiting for Amelia to turn her gaze towards the other.
"You wanna talk about it?" Maddie asked with a soft smile, at which Amelia wildly shook her head and looked away once more. Maddie continued to smile, nudging their shoulders together, waiting for Amelia to sigh in frustration and lean against her sister, knees still held in her arms.
"I chickened out," Amelia said sourly, something she'd only ever admit to Madeline. It was no easy task admitting to being a coward for someone who took pride in their courage, after all.
Maddie slung an arm around the other, giving gentle pats and rubs as Amelia puckered her lips into a surly pout, the gentler of the two crooning and humming at her. "The first time can be scary."
"I wasn't scared! I just…wasn't ready." Yes, that was exactly it. She simply hadn't been ready to spread her legs in front of a total stranger. Maybe in a few years, like, ten, twenty, five-hundred…but not now, not yet. She had only just become an adult; why should she worry about things like that right now?
"It's okay, Ames. I'm sure dad'll be happy that you won't have any horror stories to tell over dinner now."
Amelia giggled, giving the other a light and playful shove. "Ew, as if I'd tell him anything about that! Gross, Mads!"
"Remember when he tried to tell us about the Birds and the Bees?" Maddie snorted, increasing Amelia's mirthful giggling and spluttering.
"Oh God, that was soooo embarrassing! We were sixteen!"
"I know!" Maddie laughed, her tittering high and melodious next to Amelia's boisterous and unabashed wheezing. "And his face! I've never seen him grow that red before!"
"Priceless!" Amelia gasped, slowly slipping to the side as her hands were busy clutching her stomach, already feeling it ache with the constant waves of laughter rippling through her. This was exactly what she needed. Her twin sister always knew just the right recipe to cheer her up. Everything was going to be okay.
~o~
Arthur Kirkland tiredly pushed his cart through the narrow aisles, rubbing his eyes as he tried to decide whether he'd get the more tasty brand or save expenses and buy the cheaper, non-branded variant of some item on his list. He wasn't the best cook out there, but as a single father of two he'd learnt to manage.
Taking a step away from the cart to grab a box of spaghetti, his shoe made a squelching noise as it was pulled free from the sticky linoleum. The sound sent goose bumps of mild disgust over Arthur's skin. Someone had probably spilled pasta sauce or lemonade on the tiles beneath him, and he didn't much care for transporting it out of the store using his worn-out sneakers.
He wanted to make something special tonight, seeing as the girls were home for summer, and, well, Amelia had been put through that whole…ordeal. It made him shuffle about uncomfortably just thinking about it, but that was simply part of being a father. Your daughters grew up to become women, whether you wanted them to or not. And that included visits to the…the doctor specialising in lady business. Ladies, no longer girls.
Arthur was happy to have such a big family—lots of brothers, aunts and uncles, and plenty of cousins—that could help with questions he didn't have that good of an answer to. Of course, if Amelia or Madeline needed help, he was always there to listen, but that didn't mean he was a walking encyclopaedia, or even that he was good at discussing such things. But they got by. Oh, they got by.
Arthur had made to grab a box of cheaper pasta, but changed his mind last-minute. After all, if he was going to make a special meal, Amelia deserved only the best. Still reaching out, he abruptly changed directions, which caused him to accidentally slam his hand into a rather torn-up looking box (someone must've opened it to look inside and put it back after). Result: the box fell over, and spilled its contents all over the floor.
"Oh, fuck off!" Arthur growled, frowning at the thin uncooked noodles as if they had personally offended him. Grumbling, he pushed the cart out of the way and carefully squatted down, not wanting to be That Customer and simply leave everything to the unfortunate underpaid staff having to deal with all kinds of daily annoyances.
As he set to picking up the wide-spread spaghetti and putting them back into the box (he'd drop it off at the cash register, certain they would have a garbage bin somewhere), a foreign pair of shoes appeared into his peripheral sphere, new and shiny. His movements slowed as a fair man knelt down beside him, blond hair bound together in a ponytail, soft blue eyes above a mild smile reading sympathy to his accident. Wordlessly, the stranger began picking up separate noodle sticks and helping Arthur refill the box.
Looking back down, the father of two scraped his throat. "You don't have to do that—I spilled this onto the floor, it's none of your concern."
"You simply looked like you could use a hand," the other chuckled softly, hint of an accent helping Arthur place the man as a native French speaker. Not Canadian though, probably born in France or to a French household, learning English only as his second language.
"Do I really seem that pathetic?" Arthur laughed, frowning as he thought his words over; he didn't mean to sound that self-deprecating or pitiful. Everyone could have accidents like these, and it didn't have anything to do with one's age or occasionally aching back or the fact that they were a widower with daughters who seemed to outgrow him with each passing day.
"Non, that is not what I meant," his companion replied simply, not seeming to think him pitiful in any way. "You look like someone who could use a hand, that's all."
Arthur opened his mouth to tell the other he didn't need help, when in reality, the extra hand was very much appreciated. In the end, he decided against telling the man off, closed his mouth once more and opted for a quick nod instead. In no time, all pieces of pasta were picked up, and the two could rise to meet eyes, Arthur noticing they were about the same height.
He coughed into his hand and gave another nod, suddenly not really knowing where to look—did the Frenchman have to give him such an imploring and noticeable once-over? "Thank you," he strangled out, hoping his new acquaintance wouldn't questions the pads in his cart, or the cookbook, when really, he had to look old enough to have grandchildren for decades now (according to himself, at least).
"Francis."
Arthur quirked an eyebrow, once again making eye contact, only then noticing the hand held out to him. He stared at it, then jerked into action and grasped it with his own, giving a few shakes as he sheepishly tried to remember what to say. It wasn't often that he made new acquaintances in the supermarket, after all.
"Arthur. Kirkland," he replied almost robotically, Francis' smile morphing into an amused smirk.
"It was my pleasure, Arthur," he said with twinkling eyes, and for just a small moment, Arthur could've sworn the other had been about to press a kiss to his knuckles, but then the contact was broken.
Francis turned around, taking hold of a fully laden basket, bread and cheese and expensive steak peeking over the top. "See you around," he called over his shoulder, and Arthur could've sworn he saw a wink there, though it could've just been a muscle spasm (Arthur had those sometimes after working in the garden for too long).
Staring after Francis for another few moments, it took the blond some time to recollect himself and head towards check-out, wondering why he felt less tired all of a sudden.
~o~
Arthur came home to the sound of the television playing, two voices loudly chattering over it. His lips quirked up; his daughters were home, safe and sound. After taking off his coat and shoes, Arthur once more picked up the plastic bags with groceries and headed into the living room.
"Evening you two," he said, trying to mask how tired his voice sounded by smiling.
Two heads turned around simultaneously—it had always surprised Arthur how in sync the both of them could get, but he supposed it was just another twin thing.
"Hi daddy!"
"Welcome home, dad."
Arthur half expected Amelia to crawl over the back of the couch to come and hug him, as she often did, but today she didn't seem to be in the mood. With a note of apprehension he shuffled his feet, cleared his throat. "So…I'm making pasta tonight. I hope you're both hungry."
This time, it was Maddie who rose, expression devoid of any emotion. "I'll do the cooking. Here, you can just go relax."
Arthur quirked an eyebrow as she walked towards him, hand outstretched. "Are you sure? It doesn't happen that often anymore that you're both home, and I wouldn't want you to have to work on your day off—" His protests died into sullen mumbling as she gently pried the purchases from his fingers, giving a soft smile.
"It's okay, I like to cook. You just take it easy, okay?"
Arthur put a hand in his neck, ruffling the little hairs at the nape as Madeline walked towards the kitchen. "You're treating me like I'm getting old!" he chuckled, before accidentally making eye contact with Amelia.
She held it for only a second before returning her attention to the TV. "So, how was work today?" the girl quickly asked, as if Arthur's job at the local garden centre was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.
Arthur let his hand drop, arm dangling beside him. He could tell she was avoiding the true topic that had to be discussed, which Arthur was both grateful for and a little sad about. Even if it were none of his business, he still had a right to know if his daughter was healthy.
"Work was good, the azaleas are growing like crazy."
"Good, good. Any sales at the supermarket?"
"Nope, not today," Arthur mused. He snorted. "Although I did manage to drop a box of spaghetti, and then someone had to come and help me to…" His voice trailed off when he noticed Amelia wasn't really paying attention. Why should she? He was trying to entertain her with a story of how he met someone at the supermarket. He must truly be getting old. "Anyway, no sales today. But Amelia, are you sure there's nothing else you would like to—"
Amelia simply turned up the volume. "That's nice," she muttered distractedly, indicating that their conversation was finished.
Arthur's stomach churned. An Amelia who didn't want to talk was an unhappy Amelia. This could only mean things hadn't gone all that well. He took a step forward. "Amelia, if anything happened over at the doctor's, know that I—"
"Dad."
Arthur sputtered to a stop when she looked him dead in the eye, cheeks a nice pink. "I don't want to talk about it with you. Things went…fine. That's all the info you need."
Arthur blinked several times in rapid succession, before putting up his hands. "All right, all right, I won't ask anymore! If you say things are fine, I believe you." A new wave of relief undid the tight knots in his stomach. Amelia didn't want to talk about it, sure, but not for the reasons Arthur thought. Everything was well.
"I'll just go…finish reading the newspaper, then. Your sister will probably call when dinner's ready, right?"
"Yeah dad, and if she doesn't I'll come and get ya. Have fun reading."
Arthur nodded, more to himself than anyone else. He hesitated one moment longer, but Amelia seemed truly engrossed in the action flick playing on the screen, so he turned around and left her alone. She would come to him if she needed it, he was sure of it. She always came to him if there was something that he could help with. Even if the last time she'd come had been quite some time ago indeed. He would just have to accept that his girls were all grown up now, that his back wasn't what it used to be, and that going grocery shopping could truly be one of the most exciting things to happen in a day.
~o~
Anya Braginskaya came home much later that evening, tired yet satisfied after a long day of hard work. Walking into her apartment felt like being embraced by an old friend, promising rest and comfort for the next twelve hours at least. She set down her bag on a table next to the door, and instantly exchanged her shoes for a pair of comfortable loafers.
Sighing, the woman took a deep breath, scents of flowers and herbs and her favourite soap (camomile) filling her nose. She let her gaze wander lazily about the familiar interior of her cosy apartment, past the soft lavender and yellow coloured walls, over a couch with embroidered blankets hanging over the back (handmade by her older sister), the old TV she had gotten from her grandfather upon moving into her first place away from home. There was an oaken bookcase standing against the wall opposite of a large window, behind which sunflowers stood gazing at the sun on a small porch high above the streets below. Home.
There were a few messages on her answering machine; two from the nurse at work, five from her younger sister. Anya had always much preferred these fixed models to the handheld-ones, although she did gracefully accept the cell phone her older sister had gotten her for her birthday last year, seeing as it could be useful in case of emergency or for work-related business. Still, Anya refused to get rid of her old phone, even if it meant paying two separate phone bills.
A big and fluffy cat came padding towards her, loudly meowing for attention. Anya smiled, kneeling down to give it an affectionate scratch behind its ears.
"You will not believe what happened to me today, kitty," the woman said fondly, Russian syllables easily rolling off her tongue. She pulled her hair from the knot it had been tied into, the roots sighing in relief after all the stress they had been put through all day long. "A girl ran away from my office! Such a pity too, she seemed like a sweet and confident young woman." Anya lifted the ball of fur into her arms, dancing around as her platinum locks swayed behind her.
"I hope she will change her mind. I would hate to force her to visit. How would she react if I shackled to the table?" She giggled—it was all in jest, of course. Naturally, Anya wouldn't shackle any of her patients to the table. Not even if they had exactly the wright girth of wrists and ankles to do some shackling. No, no, no, she wasn't that kind of doctor. If only Miss Amelia Jones could have trusted her to do her job, she could have shown her that. Alas.
The evening was spent in solitude. Just Anya and her cat, a bowl of homemade soup, and soap opera before bed. As it always had been, and probably would continue to be for quite a few years longer, what with how busy her job was and all. Anya thought her life couldn't get any better than it was right here, right now.
~o~
Later that week, after Amelia had managed to get over most of her self-pity, Maddie took her out shopping on a day off from her summer job. While Amelia worked the local coffee bar near her university every Saturday, Maddie worked from half July to the end of August as a salesgirl in one of the clothing stores at the mall. This meant that, not only did she get a discount on all the clothes, but since she had worked there for several years now, Maddie's boss had also given both her and her twin sister a coupon for their birthdays. Amelia liked Madeline's boss, and not just for the discounts. Maddie had always been a stylish person in Amelia's eyes, and she really did her job well. She deserved it.
Anyway, today was a day off. The two of them had left early by bus (or as early as Amelia's late sleeping and rising habits allowed).
"Anything you really want to buy?" Maddie asked, looking out the window as they passed busy streets and the occasional patch of greenery.
Amelia put up her hand, counting on her fingers. "I need new shorts since I ripped through the last pair, some tops would be nice, dad's been bugging me about getting a new dress for ages since I tore my previous one at prom…"
Maddie chuckled. "Oh yeah, I remember. You got into a fight with someone because they were teasing Kiku about bringing a guy to prom, right?"
Amelia bristled. "I couldn't help punching that smug smirk off of his stupid face! Who cares if Kiku has a boyfriend?! He's one of my best friends, and I'll punch anyone who thinks he's bad for being gay!"
Maddie giggled, nudging the other with her shoulder. "Our hero," she teased, even though she mostly meant it.
Amelia huffed and rolled her eyes, but her smile showed she was pleased. "And I had to punch him again after he said I was half a guy for only having guys as close friends."
Maddie shook her head. "Can you believe there's still people like that?"
"I know, right?!" Amelia loudly exclaimed, someone turning their head towards her with a frown. Amelia ignored them, smile growing into a satisfied grin. "It was all good after Gil told me he'd bet on me winning though. He made a lot of cash out of it, and I got my share."
Maddie grew quiet, leaning onto Amelia's shoulder. "So uh… Gilbert was gone on holiday this week, right?"
Amelia nodded. "Yeah, he went to visit his family back in Germany. He should be back by Monday…" Hooded eyes slowly travelled to the side, leering at her quiet sister. "I asked him to come for a sleepover next weekend, so he can tell us aaaall about how it was. You don't have to work the weekends, right?"
Madeline shook her head without a word, ignoring the fact that Amelia knew her hours perfectly well. The girl's mauve eyes were big and shining, having Amelia quietly cackling to herself. Her sister and her best friend. She had expected something between them to happen for a long time now; maybe it was going to happen this sleepover? As long as it didn't go beyond kissing. Nobody could touch Madeline without Amelia's permission.
The bus arrived a little before lunchtime, the sisters yawning as they got out.
"Kiku asked me to go buy a new game for him. Okay if we do that first? We can get lunch after, and then spent the whole afternoon shopping for clothes."
Madeline nodded. "I wanted to drop by the bookstore as well. You go shopping for games, and I'll meet you at the—"
"McDonald's?" Amelia asked sweetly, batting her eyes when Maddie slapped a hand to her face.
"I was hoping that just this once…"
"Pleaaaaaaaaaaaase?" It was a good thing Amelia had long since perfected her kicked puppy face. No one could resist.
"Okay, fine!" Maddie laughed. "But next time, promise me we'll go for a sandwich or something. We almost always go to McDonald's when we're out together."
"It's a deal!" Amelia tittered, holding out her hand, pinky stretched. Her grin was victorious when Maddie grasped it with her own smallest digit.
The sunny blonde quickly ran off to the game store, wanting to make sure they weren't out of copies by the time she got there. If there was one thing she and Kiku could always agree on, it was video games. Gilbert on the other hand, was more of a partner in crime, the left to her right, her personal Watson. They had been best friends since kindergarten, when Gilbert had tried stealing her lunch and she had kicked him in the knee (he retaliated by biting her finger). After both were sent to the nurse, they had bonded for life. A lot of people thought they were a thing, but their relationship wasn't romantic in the slightest. Even so, they didn't much care what other people thought of them. Amelia wasn't actively looking for a relationship, and as it turned out, Gilbert might be eyeing her sister, who already knew that they had never been involved in that way. Amelia was forever grateful for having such great friends, on top of a lot of acquaintances to hang out with.
"A-ha!"
The young American immediately spotted the game she had come to this store for. After dropping it by the cash register and talking with the guy standing behind it about the newest releases, she went outside, happily tapping away on her phone to tell Kiku she'd got him what he wanted. After slipping the device into her pocket, she looked up, trying to remember the quickest way upstairs, to where the home of her beloved fast-food chain was located. Before Amelia could locate the elevator or escalator however, she saw something else. Something that instantly made her blood run cold, grasp tightening around the bag she held in her right hand.
No. No. What the hell was she doing here?! That long, silvery hair, this time hanging loosely over her shoulders and back (it didn't touch the ground as Amelia had initially thought, but it did reach past her pelvis). There was no mistaking. Anya Braginskaya was at the mall. Whether it be a trick of fate, or pure, unadulterated coincidence, Amelia knew she was done for if the other spotted her.
Amelia's gaze snapped about as she tried to locate the nearest exit, neck starting to hurt as it tried to follow the rapid movements of her eyes. I need to get out I need to get out I need to get out…there! She should be able to get to the store to her left without Anya noticing. There she could hide, and plan her escape. As Amelia quickly started walking, she looked back to where she had last seen the woman. Her step faltered when her eyes registered a serious lack of Doctor Braginskaya, before increasing the tempo. If only she could get inside before—
"Well, well, Amelia Jones! What a coincidence meeting you here!"
Amelia froze a second time, heart skipping a beat for several moments. Amelia briefly wondered if she would die right here, right now, in the hall of their local mall. She gulped, before slowly looking over, gaze falling upon the woman standing right in front of her nose. The girl unwillingly jerked back a little; did the other have no grasp of personal space?! Maybe that was why she had become a gynaecologist, because she liked getting all close and personal with people…okay, bad thoughts, baaaaad thoughts.
Amelia weakly blinked up at the pale platinum blonde as the other sent her a gleeful smile, purple eyes closing for a moment (they were purple, closest to violet). She looked a lot less professional with her hair running wild, white coat and high heels exchanged for a striped shirt, jeans dungarees and espadrilles. She looked a lot younger than Amelia had given her credit for, too. Thirty-something, maybe?
"It is such a surprise seeing you here! I hope you have been doing well?"
When those purple eyes opened and sent an imploring look down, taking in Amelia's appearance like Amelia had done to hers before, the girl knew that Anya had neither forgotten nor forgiven her for simply running out in the middle of an examination. While the smile was sweet, her eyes had a certain shine to them that was too bright to be joyous mirth at seeing her here; she was amused more than anything. Evilly amused.
Amelia felt her cheeks heating up, but she refused to repeat her escape now that she had been caught in the act. Even if her dignity had already been shattered, there were still some sharves to scrape together; she could still attempt to patch up her broken pride.
"Y-yeah, I have, actually!" Amelia chirped, voice sounding a little sharp even to her own ears. "So eh…you come here often? I've never…seen you before. In this mall." Well, maybe she had, but had never paid attention to the other, seeing as they were still strangers back then. Oh, how Amelia wished they could go back to just being strangers.
"Good! I was a little worried, you know, after you ran out. And I come here sometimes, not too often."
Ouch. Did she have to be this blunt about it? Surely there had to be a nicer way to say these things. And she didn't have to look that smug either.
"Well, like I said, I just suddenly got my period," Amelia said in a rush, bringing up a hand to nervously play with a lock of hair as she tried her hardest not to be intimidated. Although, if she had been intimidated before, she was more indignant now. "I'm sorry I had to leave so suddenly. It wasn't you, it was me."
"Aw, are you breaking up with me?" Doctor Braginskaya joked, even though the sultry pout that accompanied her jest only helped to further irk Amelia's ire.
"Look, Mrs. Braginskaya—"
"You can call me Anya outside the office. Especially not Mrs., since I have never been married."
"…Right. Anya." It felt strange addressing the other by her first name, especially when the woman perked up expectantly at the mention of it, as if she was truly excited about hearing what Amelia had to say for herself. "I really am sorry for just running out, okay? No hard feelings?" The girl barely stopped herself from adding a "please". She just wanted to be left alone, go enjoy a burger, and then do some more shopping with Maddie.
Anya giggled. "No hard feelings at all! It does not matter that you are one of the shyest girls I have ever had at my office. There is nothing wrong with being prude!"
It was as if by uttering those words, Anya had turned a switch inside Amelia's head. She could feel the blood rising to her ears.
"Excuse me? I'm not prude!"
"Da, you are!" Anya nodded, still giggling, as if Amelia's indignation was the funniest thing to happen to her today. "But like I said, it's okay! Some girls are okay with spreading their legs before anyone, others keep them closed at all times. All are good!"
Amelia's gaze hardened as her frown deepened, and she stood up straighter to appear just a little taller. "But I'm not a prude! I wear bikinis too, and I've kissed some people, and—"
"French kisses?" Anya asked sweetly, placing a hand on her hip.
"E-excuse me?"
"I was simply asking what kind of kisses," Anya said with a shrug, still smiling. "Anyone can give a kiss to the lips. Doesn't prove that you are not prude, Amelia."
Amelia was suddenly very annoyed by the way Anya pronounced her name, doing something strange with the L. "N-no, they weren't French kisses, but does it matter that much?!"
Anya shrugged. "It does not matter to me. I am simply helping you come to the insight that you, Amelia Jones, are a prude. You have never given someone a kiss with tongue, you are a virgin, and you ran away when I tried giving you a physical exam that has never hurt anyone." The smile grew. "But Amelia, I repeat! There is absolutely nothing wrong with being a prude! I only hope that you will not let it stop you from getting your body checked next time. Okay? I have to go now, my lunch break will be over soon. Do svidanya!"
And with that she turned around, hair flipping in the air as she walked away, still as bright as before. Amelia on the other hand now quite resembled a boiled lobster, plastic bag crumbled in her fists as she gritted her teeth.
"Prude, prude…I'll show you who's the prude!"