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Waking up in Sara's room without Sara was unbelievably lonely. There were only a few moments of peacefulness before Tegan became hyper-aware of where she was exactly. In her father's hotel, the sound of construction distant but present nevertheless. She layed in the bed of Sara's hotel room, a dark room where the blinds shut tightly to protest any sun that managed to leak through. It was depressing and gave Tegan a headache. Everything seemed grey and she couldn't remember the room feeling this way before.
In her hands was the crumpled up letter Sara had left for her. Yesterday, as soon as she was free to, she hiked all the way up to the seventh floor, dead-set on figuring out why Sara had told her to sleep there. Nothing had changed, except for the lack of Sara and her suitcase. The bed was neatly made, but everything else was completely bare. Stripped and forgotten.
It was after Tegan rolled onto the bed in frustration that she heard the crunch of paper muffled under the pillow that she found the letter. One piece of leaf paper neatly folded, waiting for her, her name scribbled on one side in Sara's handwriting. She let a few seconds pass to mentally prepare herself before opening the paper and reading.
Her first readthrough was quick, hardly absorbing the words, just relishing in the fact that Sara cared enough to leave her this. It almost felt like they were speaking to each other again in some way. When she reached the end, she took a moment to collect herself, realized this letter was important and she had to pay attention to Sara's words. She reread it, her eyes reading her sister's almost childlike handwriting with care, and got to the end again. The end was her favorite part, the very end she allowed herself to read it over and over again, and it hurt to read despite the warmth it brought her. It was a warmth that left an afterburn. She didn't know how to take any of it.
Tegan didn't want to leave the room, didn't want to part from the words her sister left her. She folded the letter up into a small square and shoved it in her pocket. Throughout the rest of the day, her hand searched to make sure it stayed there. Sara's words were heavy, and the pressure of them could be felt all day.
She sat alone in her father's room, slumped on the floor against the bed, Nintendo controller in hand. She played, but was hardly registering what was happening, her mind kept falling to Sara. When her father walked in, she jumped in surprise realizing hours had gone by. Sure enough, the sun was setting slowly behind red clouds, painting pink across the city. The day was coming to an end.
"Have you been doing this all day?" He asked, setting his tool-belt and clipboard on his desk.
She shrugged, turning the game off. "I guess."
He observed her for a minute. "Have you eaten anything since this morning?"
"I forgot to."
He sighed. "How about some dinner?"
She got off the floor, her butt sore from sitting on the carpet so long and fell back into the mattress. "I don't wanna go anywhere."
Sitting on the mattress, he observed her passive behavior. She stared sullenly at the ceiling, her eyes red around the pupil. He couldn't tell if it was because she was crying or staring at the tv all day.
"Well let's order in," He suggested.
Again, she shrugged. "Sure."
"You okay?"
"No, I don't think so."
"What's the matter? Did something happen at your moms'?"
She turned away so she was looking out the window, but he still hovered near.
"Well?" He asked.
"I don't think mom's ever going to look at me the same way again," she said.
Surprised, he tried to get a good look at Tegan's face, but it hid into the sheets, her arm covering her face. He scooted back to give her some privacy and collected himself. He felt the need to attack Tegan with a barrage of questions to get to the root of her distress, but knew that wouldn't be helpful.
"Tegan," He urged. "Why would you think something like that?"
"She's just so disappointed in us. She doesn't say it, but I know she is."
He had to strain his ears to hear her mumble into the bed. "Tegan," He tried to reassure. "It's just a stupid fight. She might be disappointed now, but this will all blow over eventually. Things will go back to normal."
She shook her head violently in protest.
"Why?" He reached out, holding her shoulder, hoping she would turn to look at him. "Tegan, please, tell me what's the matter."
"Me and Sara are never going to be the same again." Her voice cracked before her sobs were muffled against the sheets. Her shoulders shook under his hand.
He was confused and heartbroken hearing the ache in Tegan's voice. He spent a good moment trying to calm her down, combing his fingers through her hair, rubbing her back. Doing so until her shaking became less and less.
"Tegan," He called for her in his most gentle tone, patting her shoulder in support. After a moment, she slowly rolled over so she was facing the ceiling again. Her face was pink all over and her eyes shined with leftover tears.
When he was sure she was paying him attention, he said, "Nothing will ever be so bad that you and Sara can't fix it. Nothing."
Again, she shook her head hopelessly, tears spilling over her cheeks.
"Please trust me. I know you two. Ever since you were little girls, you've always been there for each other. Remember? No matter what, you guys stuck together, no matter how bad your fights got. You two are more mature and more equipped to handle this stuff okay? Your bond is strong, no matter how rocky it gets, nothing will break it. I promise."
"How can you promise things like that," Tegan said. She didn't sound like she was asking a question, more like a dismissal.
He felt powerless. He knew things would be alright again, but the fact that Tegan was stuck in this mindset where things wouldn't be okay was alarming to him.
"Do you want to talk about what you guys fought about?" He didn't pry much into the incident. He thought and wondered, but never pried. It seemed to be an isolated affair between the girls and their mother and they never offered any information so he assumed they were more comfortable having their mother deal with it, but seeing Tegan like this was forcing him to ask. He couldn't come up with anything the two could've said to each other to warrant Tegan being so miserable.
Tegan wiped the tears from her face, and he could see the internal debate. He hoped she didn't feel like she had to tell him. When she stared at the ceiling in a dead stare, he was sure she didn't want to say anything more on the subject, but she spoke up.
"Sara hates being my sister."
Stephen was stunned, his comforting hand stilling. Tegan glanced at him, her face apathetic and voice hoarse. "She told me. Maybe she even wishes I was never born so she could be one person and never have to deal with me."
He was shocked that Sara would ever say such things. He didn't understand. They had seemed to be getting along before Sonia informed him they were going to be separated.
"But she's not at fault. I understand why she feels that way. It hurts, but I understand. That wasn't the fight. We hurt each other. We both hurt each other really bad. It kept escalating and escalating and-" She whipped her body away from Stephen to cry. "If you had seen it, you would understand. This isn't something we can move from," She sobbed.
"Come here," He commanded. After some hesitation, Tegan crawled over to her father's side, where her head fell into his chest, and his arm wrapped around her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you two are going through this. I know right now it doesn't seem like it and you won't believe me, but you two are going to be fine. And your mother loves you. I love you too. So much, that nothing you do can make us hate you. We're all just trying to move past this and understand each other okay?"
She sniffled before nodding. His work shirt was damp with tears. He added, "Sara and you are young. You make mistakes, say hurtful things, do stupid stuff in the heat of the moment. You're gonna be adults soon and you'll be able to look back and see that this built you up to be better people. Sara too, I assure you. Your relationship is going to become stronger."
She listened silently. Letting his presence comfort her back into calmness.
"Do you believe me?" He asked.
She wiped the remaining tears that sullied her face. "I don't know," She admitted.
Tegan thought about the things her dad was telling her. She told him a speckle of the truth, yet it was the truth. Sara's torment was made clear, all their conflict throughout the years was because they were sisters. They did hurt each other. Not as harshly as Tegan made it sound, but they did cause each other pain.
Sara had told her that she was scared of the future when she would look back at her mistakes. Tegan understood it a little. That Sara was afraid she was going to punish her younger self, have to reflect on the things she had done. How different would she be as an older woman, how harshly would she judge their young escapades.
Tegan thought she would be understanding when older. Sara could be too. And they could look back and feel differently than now. She looked up at her father. "I think maybe I do. This is all going to pass." Someday.
"Sure it will," He said, relaxing when Tegan seemed much more composed.
She looked down at her feet. Her sneakers seeming like half the size of her dad's chunky work boots.
"I'm sorry," She murmured.
"Nothing to be sorry about. I understand. It's an upsetting situation. I'm sure your mother is going to handle it."
She nodded, becoming more absent-minded.
"How about we order pizza?"
"Okay," She said.
He patted her on the shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile before getting up and sitting at his desk where he had his phone. When he dialed the number and began his order, Tegan felt into her pocket, letting her fingers rub over the crumbled paper of her letter. The words came back to her in an instant.
Stephen was relieved that his daughter was much more composed, but he couldn't shake a dreadful feeling that found its way to him. His daughters were going through some serious issues with each other and he couldn't for the life of him even begin to see where these issues were stemming from. Sara was more independent than Tegan, but he didn't grasp the full extent. Maybe Tegan was too attached, too used to having Sara there. Too comfortable.
They needed serious help. Not that Sonia couldn't be serious help, she was a therapist after all and was even used to speaking to troubled teenagers daily. They were her daughters so of course she felt compelled to handle things herself, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was a conflict of interest. They didn't need to be punished, they needed to work things out. Together.
After he ordered the pizza, he looked to Tegan who was sitting on the bed, looking a little out of it, but much better than she was.
"Should be here in like fifteen minutes." He got up, phone in hand. "Hey, I'm just gonna make another phone call out in the hall, okay? How about you pick a movie we can watch?"
She beamed at the suggestion. "Okay," She agreed.
He had some paperwork to finish, but he could hold it off. He gave her a thumbs up before excusing himself into the hall. He walked all the way to the end where he sat on the flight of stairs that lead upwards and dialed Sonia's number.
After a few rings. "Stephen? Hello," Sonia greeted him, surprised by his call.
"Evening," He politely greeted back. "How are you and Sara doing?"
"Sara's in her room, already asleep I suspect. How are you?"
"Fine." He waited a moment and decided to get right to business. "I was just talking to Tegan. She's really upset."
"I know that," Sonia responded, not unkindly but like she sympathized.
Hesitating, he said, "She told me about the fight."
There was a silence on the other end before Sonia cleared her throat. Calmly she asked, "Oh, and what did she say exactly?" Her tone felt odd to Stephen. Like she was trying to hide something, like there was some worry layered within her calm demeanor.
"Not a lot. I'm practically still in the dark. You know, she's convinced herself you're never going to see her the same again. Why is she so worked up?"
Sonia sighed. "I'm not trying to make her feel that way at all. You know how she gets."
"She's upset. Sonia, this isn't a normal fight between siblings, they have some real deep seeded issues. I know why you want to be the one to control it, but they need to go see real help."
"Oh? Am I not real help?"
"You know what I mean. Somebody who specializes in siblings or twins or something. Even I can see they have some serious issues here."
"Stephen, I'm handling it. Trust me."
"I know you think you can, but my daughter just broke down in my arms because she's afraid of what you think of her and my other daughter was like a fucking zombie when she came here. Just what the hell is going on here? Why am I being left out?"
"Because you can't understand it. I understand them, I've been around them for all their issues, I can handle this. They can't hide anything from me, can't lie like they can with any other therapist. Do you understand?"
"I understand that you think I'm a clueless father."
"That's not fair. I've been around them longer. That's not your fault, that's just how it is. I know you're concerned, but think about this, if we sent them to some therapist, do you think they would just go without a fight and willingly talk about their issues like adults? Of course not. No matter what we do they're going to feel like they're being punished, they're going to kick and scream, so of course they're going to pout about it. There's nothing we can do about that."
She added, "I don't think you're a clueless father. But, it's obvious the girls don't feel comfortable opening up about their problems so let's try to fix it right now while they're openly talking to me about it. Stephen, you know I talk to kids like them all the time. I'm handling it. Nobody wants you to worry, especially the girls."
Stephen finished the phone call with mixed feelings. He started to feel an anger that he was being left out of things. Guilt took ahold of him when he began to suspect that the girls wouldn't tell him because they didn't believe they could confide in him. This summer he was much more distant than he thought he would be, taking on more work and not spending enough time with them. Sonia was right. He would just be worried, torment himself over his parenting skills, and not be able to provide the necessary aide his children needed.
Now that he knew some vague details about the fight, he felt more useless than ever. With how little information Tegan surrendered, he knew she didn't want to speak about the incident. There was still so much he didn't understand and tried to clear his head of it all by the time he walked back to his room. Tegan was sitting back on the pillows, no sign of her earlier breakdown present.
"I picked a movie," She let him know. Her voice back to being bubbly.
Tegan made room for her father to sit beside her on the bed after he hit the play button on the VCR and the tape started rolling.
"This is a good one," He said.
x
There is no humiliation that burns greater than now. It does feel like a burn, like it won't ever disappear completely no matter how much it fades.
Sonia had barely said a word the entire time Sara was speaking. She listened with razor-sharp focus, occasionally writing something down in her notes. It was like she was a mere student, sitting in class, listening with a devotion for the subject.
Sara was not a shy storyteller, always generously handing people every detail she could remember when retelling something interesting to one of her friends. Retelling certain events to her mother was no different, but she obviously lacked her usual enthusiasm. Sonia didn't expect that she would have to stop Sara from talking when an hour had passed, thinking she was going to have a harder time getting her Sara to open up than she had with Tegan, but it seemed Sara had no qualms about discussing her and Tegan's affair. She was like a cork stuck in a bottle of champagne, taking effort to pop, but once it popped it really popped.
Anytime Sara discussed something she thought her mother would find disagreeable, she would watch her with little pause in her story. Both seemed to be playing certain roles, adamant on staying in character in front of the other.
Sara had lost her momentum when brought to her memories of the bath. She began fidgeting in her seat, looking away from her mother as she discussed that she and Tegan had bathed together. Retelling the events, it was impossible to explain why it was such pivotal moment to her without being able to pull all her inner thoughts from that day and drop them in her mother's lap, but she tried her best to explain. Her story became stilted, trying not to make the bath seem sexual, but she could see her mother was uncomfortable with the events that transpired. Yet Sonia did not speak until Sara took a pause.
"You very much think of yourself as the gatekeeper to your relationship."
Sara bristled at the word relationship. Sonia noticed.
"Don't you? You claim these are just random occurrences, but you also think you're the one with the sole responsibility. If you're able to control the extent of whatever it is you two had, then how do things 'just happen'? Don't you let them happen?"
"That's not exactly true," Sara weakly protested.
"Oh?"
"Sometimes things spiral out of our control. It takes two."
"That's true, everyone must be held accountable, but why do you have to convince yourself so hard of that?"
"Okay, well you obviously have something you want to say, so say it," Sara demanded.
"Remember that I'm trying to help you."
"Fine. Then help me."
Sonia sighed, closing her notebook and setting it aside.
"She tried to kiss you," She said after a moment like she just remembered it.
"She did," Sara replied hesitantly.
"Why did you feel like you couldn't return her affections? You're the one who kissed her first after all."
Sara thought for a moment. After kissing Tegan she had given herself all sorts of different reasons why she had done so. Maybe she was finding the right reason to tell her mother.
"I didn't think she would kiss me back the first time."
When Sonia didn't say anything, Sara felt the need to further explain herself. "At first I thought I was the only one who felt the way I felt, whatever that was. But she kissed me back and tried to do so again and I felt like I wasn't alone in this anymore. When it became a real possibility that these confusing feelings could come to fruition, I got scared."
"What would you say you feared most from your time with Tegan?"
"That we would get caught and have to explain ourselves." Sara dead-panned.
"Because it's wrong?"
"Sure. Other people would think it's wrong."
"Don't you also think so?"
"I know it's wrong, but maybe for a little bit I forgot that it was such a wrong thing."
Sonia was looking at her with what could only be pity. Maybe because Sara was feeling sensitive and vulnerable at the moment, but she felt like she found distaste hidden in her mother's gaze.
"Why does it feel like you're hiding things from me?" Sonia said when she had Sara's attention.
Sara was stunned. "I- what do you want me to say that I haven't already said?"
"You're oh so matter of fact. It's like you're reading from a textbook. You know you're talking about sleeping with your sister don't you?"
A sting as sharp as venom stabbed Sara in the chest, the wound bled behind her eyelids and she had to fight off the wave of tears she could feel coming. "What possibly could I have said this entire time that made it seem like I was being dishonest? I'm telling you fucking everything?" She croaked, "So sorry for not using a tone you like. Maybe Tegan did it better? Did she act all sorry for herself, licking her wounds like an injured puppy and you felt bad for her?"
"Sara, don't try to make this into something it's not."
"Tegan kissed me back. Remember that."
"I know that Sara."
"I feel like I'm on trial. Me, specifically."
"You need to stop feeling that way. I think right now you're just stressed and it's getting to you. If you feel like I'm somehow targeting you that's because we're talking about you right now."
When Sara could only shake her head, Sonia continued in a softer tone. "I know I said I wasn't going to discuss your sessions with each other, but I think you should know that Tegan was under stress just like you."
"Really?" Sara asked weakly.
"Yes, really. She was rather anxious and felt similarly to yourself."
Sara contemplated what her mother said. She was beginning to build better pictures of what Tegan had looked like in this same position she herself was in.
"An hour has long passed and you seem to need some rest, so I think we're done. You may go, but we're going to pick this up tomorrow."
Sara could only nod. She wanted to say more, defend herself. Sonia looked tired, a slight hunch in her shoulder and weariness in her eyes that Sara hadn't been paying close attention to. Guilt that she tried so hard to fight off twisted up in the pit of her stomach and she had to look at the situation in a sober light. That this was a mother listening to her daughter retell how she and her sister found themselves in an incestuous affair.
Sonia didn't understand everything in between, the confusion and self-loathing. She saw her two daughters fall into a mistake that would mark them with tainted memories. Sara had no doubt in her mind Sonia was only looking to fix everything. Fix them. Her two daughters sleeping together, that's all she saw. Sara hated it. It felt like there was so much more to it than that.
"Okay," Sara relented. Getting off the couch and walking away from her mother up the stairs. She opened the basement door into the living room, soft music playing and Bruce reading his paper. It was like walking out of one twilight zone episode into another.
She fled up the stairs, retiring to her room. That was rough. Sara had imagined telling her mother all the gory details to see the hurt. She would feel smug, like saying 'this is what you wanted to hear right?' But it was more difficult than she anticipated. No matter how much resentment festered in her heart towards Sonia for making her go through this, she was still her mother.
It wasn't necessarily the kissing, caressing, the intimate touches, but explaining them. Explaining what they meant and what she felt. She could hardly explain them to herself, she had nothing concrete to hand to her mother. Maybe that's why Sonia thought she was hiding something. Sara thought about Tegan. Was she able to tell Sonia how Sara made her feel? Tegan had told her things. The thought she repeated those things back to their mother increased her anxiousness in a way that made her nauseous.
She wants you to go back to being sisters Jeremy had told Sara. She was still trying to figure out what that meant. When had they stopped being sisters? They were sisters while fucking no matter how much they tried to forget it. Sara wanted desperately to talk to Tegan. It had only been one session, but she felt like she was going through the wringer. She couldn't imagine Sonia talking to Tegan the same way she talked to Sara today. Resentment began to grow within her. Resentment and suspicion.
Sara wanted to cry. Like in all her fights with her mother, the anger boiled in her, threatening to bubble over. She fell face first onto her bed, grabbing ahold of her pillow and screaming into it. Her cries were muffled, but the force of them was scratching at her throat, making it sore. This was good, she thought and sat up, feeling spent. Screaming her frustrations into the pillow had prevented the tears that were threatening to spill.
She noticed the guitar sitting against her dresser. A gift from Tegan, or maybe she was just tired of having it in her own room. Sara didn't know, but it was a reminder of her sister, not that she needed more reminders. She picked the guitar up, taking it back to the bed where she sat down and plucked at the dead strings.
Writing songs was a long process for Sara. Explaining her feelings, putting thoughts into words was not an easy task. Tegan often made fun of her for taking forever on one song, but this last month had opened Sara's mind to some things she hadn't really considered. Tegan, no matter how confused by her own feelings, always jumped into them. Maybe she was hasty or a little thoughtless, but time told that she didn't care about dissecting her own feelings as much as cared about immersing herself in them. Tegan didn't chew on the words she wrote, she wrote whatever was there, there was no need to look them over. Sara envied that in a way, but it also made her wary of Tegan. Her sister could be unpredictable with her heart no matter how predictable she seemed to Sara.
She fell asleep early and woke with no dreams. Her mouth was stiff with the morning and looking at her alarm clock, she saw that despite going to bed early, she still slept in late.
She didn't want to talk to her mother anymore. Just as listening drained Sonia, talking drained Sara. She remembered what she said yesterday, of her and Tegan's apprehensive steps back into a sort of friendship. Even taking steps to close the door they had opened, there was no denying that even 'acting like sisters' was not enough to close it. Somehow it just made it easier to see. She remembered being with Tegan after painting the wall. How her brain, hazy with pot, let her see Tegan as desirable. Tegan looked at her the same way. She didn't comprehend the steps her soul took to allow her to lead Tegan up to her room that day, but it happened. Retelling the events, she felt misunderstood. She felt like she was telling the tale of two horny teenagers who fell into a despicable act. Sonia didn't understand and Sara didn't know if she wanted her mother to understand, but she felt like she was a liar despite her cooperation in telling the truth.
Grudgingly, she slumped down the stairs to face the day. She had a while until her mother would call her down to the basement and their second session would begin. She spent her time ignoring her mother's presence and trying to think of what she could say tonight. For a moment she thought about Tegan, wondering if she read her letter. She wondered how she would take it.
Her mind was jumping around, all her thoughts muddled, and she spent the day doing nothing at all, actively waiting for the talk. She wanted to demand they get the session over with so her anxiety wouldn't be able to fester and build as she waited for it, but maybe waiting was better. If they had these talks earlier, would they be able to go throughout the day with the resentment and disappointment that the talks seemed to bring?
When Bruce came home from work, she knew the time was growing near. Dinner was made in silence, even Bruce didn't try and mend the quiet as he had usually done. Everyone sat in an awkward vacuum during dinner, the only sound in the dining room was the scraping of forks and knives with the occasional cough.
Sonia didn't even finish her meal, hardly touched it before she excused herself from the table to clean her own dish. Bruce finished his, then he and Sara wordlessly handed their plates to Sonia who scrubbed the dishes in silence. Sara sat at the table, watched Bruce leave the dining room, and waited. Staring down at the table, she listened to her mother run all their dishes under the sink. Sonia seemed to be in a strange mood like she was aware of the bitterness in Sara.
"Would you like to follow me downstairs?" Sonia asked, breaking Sara from her thoughts. Not like I have a choice, she thought and sat up.
Sonia lead her daughter downstairs, and like last time, Sonia took the desk chair while Sara slumped down on the old couch. There was a deafening moment of quiet before Sonia spoke up.
"You may continue where you left off and we'll work from there."
So Sara continued her story.
X
After that, I couldn't take a shower without the feeling of Tegan's neck against my lips. Couldn't look at the painting of the ocean in the lobby without seeing her look of longing, seeing our paint splattered bodies. I let myself remember everything, I didn't want to think about Tegan like she was a thorn in my heart anymore.
The rest of the day we spent just as we had every day since our visit. Writing songs in a quiet hall, playing a random movie on dad's tv, getting taken to dinner, and coming back home to play video games in his room until he kicked us out so he could go to bed. It felt like I was waiting for something. Nobody brought it up, but I knew we were both thinking about it. Our silence with each other wasn't uncomfortable, we were both daydreaming, lost in thought. Sometimes I would catch her looking at me and I would stare back until I had to look away because looking Tegan in the eyes jumbled me all up.
At dinner, dad had asked us if we were okay, that we seemed more quiet than usual. Neither of us could come up with a good reason for it. Lately, we had been pretty good about being friendly and talkative in dad's presence and just in general. I knew he thought we were fighting, but I couldn't say a thing. I wasn't interested in easing or confirming his worry. I was paranoid that he could tell something was going on between us besides a fight, but I couldn't imagine dad thinking up any other scenarios on his own.
My mind felt lighter and I'm not sure what eased the burden I had been feeling recently. The only possible explanation was Tegan, yet she had been the source of that burden for so long so I couldn't explain it. Maybe I had finally let Tegan carry some of the weight, instead of hoarding it all for myself. Nothing was clear, but something had thawed.
After dad was in bed and we left his room, we quietly stalked to the end of the hall, past Tegan's room to sit on the stairs. The lights were low lit, an orange glow faintly lighting the halls.
"So now what?" She asked.
I couldn't tell if she was referring to what we should do now or in general. It made me think about what steps we could possibly take next. What those steps would mean.
"We could go hang out in my room."
She observed me with interest. "Yeah?" She asked.
"We could talk."
"Talk about what?"
We were entering a new era, where minced words would not work between us anymore. It was scary, but it gave me a rush. "About us," I said.
Her amused smile hid her nerves. I could tell she knew things were different. Even if it's what she wanted, she was hesitant, just like me.
"Do you want to?" I asked.
"Yeah." She nodded, her face became more serious. "I want to. We should."
So I lead her to the next floor where my room was waiting for us. When we entered, she sat on the bed, just like earlier. The lights in my room were much brighter than the ones in the hall, so I flipped the bathroom light on and turned the bedroom light off. There were still speckles of paint stuck on the inside of the tub. Tegan's naked body filled my thoughts. How her breasts felt against my back.
When I joined her on the bed, I allowed more room between us, making up for my dirty thoughts. The bathroom light was just enough to make out each other's features, but we were still bathed in darkness. The city lights sparkled through the window.
"Do you want some pajamas to change into?"
"Sure," She said, her voice quiet.
I dug two pairs of pajama pants out of my suitcase, handing her a pair. We were both wearing t-shirts so I didn't think she needed a top.
"You can change in the bathroom," I told her.
Wordlessly, she walked into the bathroom, shutting the door only a little. I could see her reflection from my spot on the bed. When she began unbuttoning her jeans (my jeans), I looked away, taking mine off as well. Earlier in the bathroom when we were changing side by side, I had no idea if she was looking while I undressed. I wanted her to. Suddenly I just want Tegan to notice me.
When my pants were off, I let myself look at her. She was standing in her underwear and shirt, her reflection's eyes meeting my own. Her eyes traced over me, becoming stuck on my bare legs so I tried not to close them in an act of self-consciousness so she could look as much as she wanted. I couldn't tell what was going through her head, her expression gave nothing away. She met my eyes once before she continued changing. When she pulled the plaid pajama pants on, I followed suit and quickly, while she was distracted, I reached under my shirt, unclipping my bra and pulling it off. I crawled under the blankets, waiting for her.
"Do you want me to turn this light off?" She called out.
I watched the city lights dance over my blankets. "Yes please."
Then it was dark, and I could only make out her faint figure until she was laying next to me. She crawled over me to the right side of the bed, nearest to the window. I turned my body to face her, covering my chest with the blanket. With the help of the window, I could faintly make out her face, and I wondered how much of me she could see.
"Do you still want to talk?" She asked.
I nodded. The rustling of the pillow so loud in the quiet. Nobody was around us, yet we felt the need to whisper like this room was made out of glass and would shatter.
"You told me you wanted to show me this was a good thing," I said. "You begged me."
"Yeah, I did."
"Will you show me? How this can be a good thing?"
"You can't already see it?"
I couldn't say anything. I couldn't see anything. Everything was just Tegan. She was blocking any clear thought I had.
"When we kiss, you don't feel good?" She asked, sincere.
When I didn't say anything she moved closer to me, with just the smallest trace of a warning, she pulled my face near her so she could kiss me. Her lips pressed against mine with the same gentleness that I experienced in the bath, but this time she included a little filth, prying my lips apart with her tongue, tender but demanding. She felt all around me, and I reciprocated, melting. Such a kiss was strange, the soft press of our lips molding against each other with care, yet our tongues messily searching each others mouths, everything wet.
I moaned when I could hear our kissing, so dirty, but before shame could grab me, the kiss changed directions entirely, withholding her eager tongue and kissing me goodbye with her thoughtful lips.
When we separated she asked, "That didn't make you feel good?"
It did feel good. I could feel how good it was by the slickness that began pooling in my panties. It was such a different kiss than our first two, which were brief, filled with desperation. This had been a teasing kiss. I relished in the afterglow of it, treasuring the fact that it was Tegan who kissed me this time.
She sighed softly, pressing herself fully against me, wrapping her arms around my waist. There was hardly any space between us. It felt like a bolder move than the kiss. I let my own arms curl around her waist, feeling her warm body.
"Should I tell you how you make me feel?" She asked.
Afraid, but desperate to know, I said, "Yes."
"You make me feel confused. A lot of the time you make me feel angry, but I've been pining over you anyway. Even if I never knew it, and it's because we fit. It's comforting to fit with somebody right? Getting the puzzle pieces to make a complete picture can be plenty frustrating, but when you get all the pieces to fit, you just see the big picture right?"
Continuing, she said, "I like being with you. It feels good."
"Don't you think it's fucked up?"
"We're not hurting anybody."
I was hurting. I hurt Tegan so many times.
"We're hurting us."
"Please stop thinking like that. I thought you liked me?"
The way she phrased the question made me laugh. "I do like you," I couldn't help but tell her.
"Then what's the problem?"
"Tegan do you really want me to spell it out for you?"
She stiffened in my arms. I realized she wasn't ignorant of my fears. Maybe she was trying to lighten the burden on me, trying to make me worry less. See fewer problems. Maybe she was doing it for herself. I didn't want to be the mean one, but I felt the need to. I didn't want to pretend everything was normal.
"We're sisters," I said uneasily.
"That's true," She murmured.
"We can never let anybody know."
"I know that."
"We can never go back."
"Why would I want to go back?"
"We can never be in a relationship."
"Is that what you want?" Tegan asked. Suddenly her face was so clear to me, she looked at me so curiously. I wanted the dark to cover her searching eyes. "Do you want us to be in a relationship?"
My mouth became dry. That's not what I was trying to say but she was asking me something I hadn't even bothered to ask myself and felt put on the spot.
"I... no. That's not what I was saying."
"But do you?" She pried.
"No," I croaked, uncomfortable. "That's not what I was saying. I'm just saying, this is not normal."
"Who cares if it's normal? When have you ever been concerned with what's normal?"
"What if we regret it?
"What if the world blew up?"
She surprised a smile out of me, and I laughed, remembering us bombarding our father with pointless questions on our car rides until he shot us down with that very same line.
She said, "I regret doing a lot of stuff, but I don't regret kissing you. I don't wish you hadn't kissed me. Do you regret any of it?"
Kissing Tegan, no matter how chaotic, had lead to this moment of holding her and not being afraid that she would be disgusted by me.
"No, I don't think so."
I felt calm. Her thumb was rubbing circles over my shirt, I wanted to feel her hand on the skin under the cotton.
Maybe it was unfair of me to not expect Tegan to be the reasonable one out of the two us, but the gradual comfort that was washing over me was unexpected. She seemed more put-together, more in touch with this, what she wanted to do. I wondered if it was because she thought I was falling apart.
There were parts of me that told me we weren't thinking this through, that we were letting hormones guide us through terrible mistakes, but my body was calling out to Tegan, and hers was calling out to me. It was so different than what I had ever felt with anybody else. I felt a deep need for her. Never had I felt such need for another person.
"Sara," She whispered. My name was covered in honey and surrounded with hunger. It was the sweetest she had ever said my name.
I played with her hair, loving how my fingers moved through her curls. Loving how she moved towards my touch.
She said, "Remember. It's just us here. Just you and me. Let's not care about anything else, nobody can see anything. Even if they saw, they wouldn't really see."
I understood. We were close, even if we had our quarrels, we were united. Dad was blind. Even if he loved us, he had a hard time understanding us. Those strangers that snuck around the hotel during the day, they didn't matter.
When I was festering in my thoughts, I could feel Tegan's breath grow near, her breath on my lips, until hers nudged against mine, asking for a kiss.
"Wait," I breathed against her, and that was enough to stop her, yet she was still pressed close to me, and every word out of my mouth would graze against her plush lips.
"Do you ever think I'm taking advantage of you?" I scooted back, trying to get a good read on her face.
"Taking advantage?" She asked, obviously confused. "How?"
"Like, I don't know. I guess I was thinking that I kind of started things. I kept budging."
"Sara, no. It's not like you forced me into this. Somebody always has to make the first move right?"
"Remember when we were fourteen and I caught you, you know?"
She nodded. My thumb kissed along her cheek in a tender touch and I could feel the heat there. She was blushing.
"And we…"
"Yeah."
"Did you ever think about me before?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like sexual thoughts."
Tegan looked up at the ceiling in thought, the movement making her hand fall away from me and I regretted asking the question when she couldn't seem to answer.
"I thought about you all the time. I think about you all the time."
Her words floated idly in the darkness. I wanted to grab them before they disappeared through the ceiling. She didn't say what the extent of those thoughts were, but she said the words with such a delicateness, that I didn't want to soil them with more questions.
When she was looking up, I could look at her as much as I wanted. From her defined cheekbones, wide-set jaw, soft lips, fluffy hair. She was a mixture of strong and soft. I scooted closer, wanting her to look back at me. She smiled when I let my hand fall over her stomach, feeling it rise up and down under my palm. I liked being able to touch her.
I said, "Before anything even happened, I used to think about you almost constantly. I tried not to, but you were just always in my head. Before I even realized what that even meant, I was always worrying why I couldn't seem to shake you. I was so worried about what you meant to me. It took me a while before I realized that I wanted you."
Tegan placed her hand over mine, tracing my knuckles as I spoke.
"You thought I would be grossed out huh."
"I don't know what I thought." I hesitated before asking, "Do you like me?" I felt so needy asking it.
Her brows shot up, probably not expecting a question like that from me. "Do I like you? What do you mean?"
I felt so lame asking it. Like I was begging for validation. "I mean, is this just...like are you attracted to me? Not do you find me attractive, but do you want me?"
"I thought that was clear," She chuckled nervously.
I examined her demeanor, took note of how she looked back up at the ceiling. "Why don't you sound so sure?" I wanted to pull my hand away but as long as she kept holding it, I would let it settle on her stomach for now.
"Sara, obviously I like you. We wouldn't be here if I didn't. I guess it's just so hard to explain whatever my feelings towards you are with any clear defining words. Don't you feel that way too?"
Maybe. I had more trouble figuring out why I liked her so much, but I felt like I could explain that I wanted to be with her in some capacity. Whatever capacity that was eluded me, but there was something pulling me to her. I was attracted to her, I hadn't realized it, but it seemed like such an obvious thing. I was always so focused on the abstractness of it all, the immoral dilemma, the confusing need, the carnal desire. In the bath, she told me I was beautiful and in that moment, the way she looked at me, I really felt like I was. I could really believe she wanted me and I wasn't just fooling myself. But still, I wanted her to tell me clearly and maybe It was hard to demand anything clear from her when we were both lost in the same sea.
Noticing my worry, she leaned over, kissing my cheek. "I like you okay? I want you."
"I just want us to lay all our cards on the table. I don't want us to continue this without knowing how we feel. Does that makes sense?"
"Okay. So what do you want to do?"
I thought for a moment. "I want to tell you what I want."
She looked at me expectedly, her hand growing clammy against mine.
"Promise not to be mad?" I asked.
"Mad?"
"I don't know. Just promise."
She nodded. I slipped my hand from underneath hers only to hold it again, this time mine trapping hers.
"I want to touch you," I confessed. And that seemed obvious, but I had to voice it. Her fingers twitched.
"Do you want to touch me?" I asked.
"I'd do anything to make you feel good."
I traced her soft hand, her knuckles and the vein that subtly lay over it, drawing up her arm. She looked down at our entangled hands, watching with fascination. I loved that look she gave like she was cherishing all the attention I gave her.
"Before we um, masturbated together, I honestly never thought about anything sexual happening between us," I confessed. "It was a decision I made on the spot. As soon as the opportunity to be with you like that was there, my brain just grabbed it. Maybe we didn't touch each other, but I wanted you to see me. It felt like I was letting you on a secret without having to say anything."
She listened intently, still watching my hand play with hers.
"Does that upset you?" I asked.
"No," She said softly, seeming distracted.
"That day when I caught you…what were you thinking about? Do you remember?"
"I wasn't thinking about anything."
"No way."
"I mean, nothing really goes through my mind when I do it, more like, I think about feelings and concepts? Like, the idea of being with somebody, but I never really envisioned a person. Maybe that's why I couldn't get off back then because my brain wasn't properly stimulated?" Her hand turned into a fist under my palm. "I- um. I've never came like I did that day."
Shocked, I leaned over to face her, making her meet my eyes. "Are you serious?"
She nodded.
"After all that time? Not even with Jer-"
She cut me off sharply. "Hey, no. I don't want to talk about him."
Guiltily, I swallowed down my words. "Sorry," I murmured.
Her fist melted and her fingers grasped my own. "It's okay."
Unexpectedly, she brought our hands up, leaning over and kissing the back of mine before letting them fall back to her stomach. Butterflies chased the guilt away.
"That day is strange for me. You made me feel so good just because you were there, next to me and I tried to forget it because I didn't think it was supposed to be a big deal so I guess I tried not to be affected by it. But every once in a while that memory would pop up and I had to face the fact that it did happen and I liked it. You-" she laughed nervously. " You affected me and I couldn't understand it."
I couldn't help the grin that broke out. Tegan looked so shy telling me these things.
"I thought about you all the time," I told her. "When touching myself."
Tegan turned red, but she didn't turn away. I leaned closer, my hand slid from hers, up her arm to hold her cheek. "Ever since that day, I always thought about it. Anytime I touched myself all I could think about was that day. You watching me touch myself."
I smiled when she visibly gulped."It was cute how you were so shy ya know? And you touched me. That little touch is engraved in my brain. I can practically feel it right now. And you touching yourself. Do you know how hard it is to look at you sometimes? All I can see is your mouth all slack open, your cheeks pink, your eyes glazed over like you could hardly handle the pleasure."
I liked how she looked right now. Torn like she didn't know if she wanted me to keep talking or kiss me. I didn't mean for the tone of our conversation to take this sort of turn, but I wasn't all that concerned with changing directions or stopping. "Sometimes, I would let myself imagine you leaving your hand on me. I thought about how you would make me come."
"Sara," Tegan groaned, grasping my shoulder, feeling the need to anchor herself.
"Have you ever thought about something like that?"
"I'm thinking about it now."
"Yeah?"
I felt her body all the way down to her waist, grasping the waistband of her pants and pulling our hips together. Her breath stilled as she nodded against the sheets. "Yeah," She whispered, watching my eyes, my lips.
I let her hand go, watched her try to reach for it again only to leave it against her stomach. I made sure she was watching what I was doing as I reached down to tug down on the pajama bottoms. Tegan let out a stuttered breath. We shared a look that communicated our anxieties and desire like we were asking 'should we do this?'. Her body inches closer and closer to me. I cradle her, hold her gently as my hand budges its way into her pajamas.
I already felt overstimulated even though she was the one being touched and I hadn't even touched where it counts yet. The patch of skin revealed just above her underwear is like finding sacred ground. Her shirt is ridden up, and I can see her bellybutton and firm tummy. I feel it, retrace my steps back to the waist of her underwear. I could feel the excited flutters of her. It's amazing how her body tells me things that she wouldn't know to say. I get to touch her now. I get to feel and rub her clit like she had mine when I was aching inside and twitching outside, begging for her.
"How do you feel?" I asked.
She nods before saying, "Fine."
"Can I make you feel good?" I lightly trace the top of her underwear, feeling it's elastic band next to her hips.
"Please."
"Lift up a little bit," I instructed her.
When her hips lifted from the mattress, I dragged the pants down her thighs, revealing soft skin. Slowly, she kicked them off the rest of the way, kicking them away from the bed. Everything felt fast and slow. She laid down patiently, never taking her eyes off me except when my own strayed to explore the new skin revealed. She looked down at her own body, her plain panties and rumpled shirt. My hand settled on her thigh, I wanted her to see my skin on hers.
"Tegan," I asked her to look at me. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
I sounded so unsure of myself, and hearing the fear in my voice scared me because I felt more than ready to touch her. I didn't want to stop myself. She leaned over, giving me a reassuring kiss on the lips. She rested her face close to my ear where she whispered to me, in such conviction, "Please. I want this. We both want this. I'm not going to change my mind." And in a move of utter confidence, she took the hand resting on her thigh and guided it back to the waistband of her underwear.
When she met my face again. I took her lips back, devouring them with growing urgency. She hums against me, kissing me back with the same hunger. I wanted to feel her hot exploring tongue all over me, I wanted it to trace every part of my scorched body, but first I needed to feel her. How unfair that she was able to touch me first. She didn't even realize what a flood of pleasure she had drove over me with that simple little touch, her fingers hardly grazing against me. It became a phantom touch that followed me for years.
She shudders when my fingers sneak past her waistband. We both brace ourselves before I make the descent down to her burning arousal. All of my body instantly flushes, like her warmth is transferring to me. I trace her dripping cunt, and it is dripping. I hadn't expected her to be so wet. I moan at the slick heat. Just as she had done those years ago, experimenting and shy, I lightly touch her, my fingers move over her delicately, resting over her clit, which begs for relief.
"You're really wet," I say, impressed. The sight of my fingers pressing onto her pink clit and glistening lips makes my throat squeeze tight. My voice sounds different. Higher than I would like, gravelly and hoarse.
I palm her wetness, the pressure making her hips jump into my hand. I tease her opening with one finger, prodding and stroking gently to see her reaction. The look on her face is pure eagerness. She doesn't know where to look, the fingers playing between her legs, or me.
"Jesus," She sighs, so quiet, hidden in her heavy breaths.
"You're already this wet. You really wanted something like this to happen huh?"
She turns away from me, embarrassed.
"That's okay," I tell her, my palm resting against her aching clit. "I did too. You're right. We both want this. And this," I sink my finger into her hot wet cunt, "Is the proof I need. I can feel how much you want me."
She whimpers into the bed, her face still hidden from me. I rest inside her, her walls hugging my finger. For a second I'm worried I'm making her uncomfortable. "Are you embarrassed that I'm saying that stuff?"
She shakes her head. "No. It's just, I've never heard you talk like that. It's surprising is all." Her voice is corrupted with arousal.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No. I want to hear your voice. Plus it feels like I'm meeting different parts of you."
I knew what she meant. We were about to open doors to places unexplored. Neither of us really knew how we acted in bed, how we expressed this kind of desire. It was all so new and exciting, especially after knowing each other all our lives.
"Yeah," I agreed. "Is this okay?" I asked, referring to the finger inside her.
"Yeah. Feels good."
I added another, slowly they laid together, as far as my hand let me. "What about this?"
"Yeah," She sighed, her legs opening wider.
I couldn't help my mind from wandering recklessly into Tegan's past sexual experiences. She had been with Jeremy so long, it was most likely they had slept together. Strangely I felt like I was competing with him somehow, the thought made me nervous and angry all at once. I began to thrust my fingers in and out of her, at a generous pace to get her used to them.
With each slow pump, she sighed. Her mouth was slack, her eyes closed, just feeling all the sensations. Being inside Tegan, my fingers being squeezed and pulled in by her slippery walls, was unlike anything I've ever felt. No warmth compared and I became ill with a compulsion to make her come.
Faster and faster, my fingers pumped, her sweet moans spurring me on. And every time I studied her face, washed over with pleasure, I had to swallow my own groans. Seeing her writhing on the bed, my fingers sliding in and out of her, was almost too much for me. Not even my most self-indulgent fantasies compared to the warmth that was wrapped around me right now. I saw her face now, eyes closed, mouth open, and remembered that same face she had when touching herself, but this time it was my hand on her. I remembered how she looked on that day, it had been engraved in my head for so long, how I caught her sneaking her glazed-over eyes at me, not so subtly watching my fingers trace over my own cunt. I wanted her to look at me like that again. Going back to secrets, I think I was kind enough not to tell Tegan that she watched me lustfully, unaware of herself.
"God Tegan," I moaned when I could feel more of her leaking into my hand.
Her hips jumped into my fingers and I could tell she was getting close. Her moans were desperate though stifled and I wanted to beg her to be as loud and desperate as she wanted, but I could understand her holding back. I was embarrassed by my own voice too at times. Plus, my mind couldn't help but bring up the fact our father is downstairs, and while it seemed impossible he could hear us, the urge for silence was still there. I didn't want to think about that and put all the effort of my sore wrist into fucking Tegan with all I had.
"Fuck," Tegan hissed. "It feels so good, Sara. Please," She moaned.
"Please?" I asked, teasing because I knew exactly what she meant, but god I loved it when she was asking me for it so politely.
"Please." Was all she could say. So mercifully, my thumb pressed against her stiff clit, rubbing it in small fast circles.
Her eyes opened, though her eyelids were heavy with the effort. Her warm eyes were glassy as she watched my face. I looked away from her leaking lips to meet her eyes. She looked at me with so much fervor, it almost made me stall in my ministrations.
"Feel good?" I asked.
"Yeah. Please. I'm gonna come."
And the desperation in her voice drove me to dig into her deeper, faster. It wasn't long before I could feel the twitching, feel her move against my hand. I drove into her, played with her clit with my thumb and soon she was convulsing against me.
"F-Fuck. Oh god." And she was coming, moaning while looking at me. Grabbing onto the sleeve of my shirt like her life depended on it. "God," Tegan repeated, her voice broken. Still thrusting against me, her hips meeting my fingers with urgency until slowly, gradually she rested bonelessly against the bed.
I didn't stop entering her until she forced me to stop by grabbing my hand. She was breathing heavily, looking out my window into the dark night, pounding with the fire I built within her. Her clit was twitching and I was aware of my own aching between my legs.
After a moment she looked towards me. Her chest still rising and falling. "Fuck," she breathes. "That felt so fucking good."
All I could do was nod, looking at my lonely fingers soaked in her cum. She had really came against my hand, I felt the most intimate parts of her.
When she collected herself, she pulled the blanket up to cover her lower half and I tried to gauge her feelings about what just happened, because while she seemed enthusiastic while I was pleasuring her, she was now acting bashful, trying to hide. Oh god, she regrets it already. My heart thumped against my chest in fear, nerves vibrated against my neck.
"Are you okay?" Tegan tore me from my thoughts.
"Am I okay?"
"Yeah. You're zoning out." In nervousness, she brought the blanket up further, hiding her chin under it as she played with her labret piercing. Thumbing the little metal stud as she looked away from me. "Are you… Do you feel okay about that?"
"Me? What about you?"
"I just don't want you to be weirded out that we did this. Sometimes it seems you're having a hard time figuring out what you want. Like, you kissed me and ran away and were pissed at me. So I don't know what to expect here."
I joined her under the covers, moved the sweaty strands of hair from her forehead before realizing I was using the hand that was inside her.
"I feel really okay right now. I liked making you come. Loved hearing you, feeling you. I already told you I wasn't running away."
I could see some of the worry leave her face as she met my eyes again. Her cheeks dimpled under my palm as she smiled.
Suddenly she sobered up, her expression serious, but not without its previous warmth. "I want to touch you too," She told me.
X
Sara stopped talking, noticing her mother acting strangely. Sonia's head had fallen into her hands, soft gasps of distress filling the room.
"Mom?" Sara asked, worry taking hold of her.
Sonia didn't answer her daughter, she could only shake. She tried to compose herself, feeling like her behavior was unbecoming, but she just couldn't pull herself together. She could hardly even look at her daughter who was on the edge of her seat, watching her mother with worry.
"Mom," Sara repeated.
Sonia shook her head. "I'm fine," She stuttered out.
"W-what's wrong?" Sara asked.
"No. Nothing's wrong. Everything just hit me now I guess." She laughed, and that worried Sara even more.
Seeing her mother so distressed, seeing her break so soon, suddenly sent a cold shiver down her spine. Her worry for her mother was torn to shreds in mere seconds.
"I don't fucking get it," Sara gritted out, and the raw hurt in her voice grabbed Sonia's attention. "Why the fuck are you acting like this?"
"Sara please, don't talk lik-"
"No. Listen to me for just a sec. I don't get it. You're acting like this is the first time you're hearing all this. Didn't Tegan already tell you this? Why are you acting so shocked?"
Her mother could only shake her head, leaning back in her chair, trying to calm herself.
"Didn't Tegan already tell you all this?" Sara repeated with more urgency.
"You know I'm not interested in telling you how the other's sessions are going," Sonia forced through her broken voice.
"Mom. Please. Please tell me. Is this the first time you're hearing about this? I need to know."
Silence filled the room. Sonia couldn't meet Sara's eyes as she ran through her own internal battle. There were not many times Sonia couldn't look her daughters straight in the eye. After clearing her throat, she spoke in a meek yet blunt voice.
"Yes. This is the first time I'm hearing about these details."
One of Sara's main anxieties pumped through her veins. Fear pricked the back of her neck as her mother began to fade away in her glassy eyes.
"Tegan didn't tell you any of that? About us fucking?"
"Don't be so crass Sara."
"Did she tell you when she tried to kiss me?"
After a beat, Sonia said, "She didn't."
"D-did She even have to have these stupid talks?"
"Yes, we talked. Her sessions are going to be different than yours. You both will talk about different things."
"How the fuck did she get away with just not having to say shit? How come I have to be the one to say it all? Be judged?"
"Sara that's not true. I already said that nobody is being judged."
"Nobody being me, because apparently, I'm the only one who's saying shit."
"That's not true," Sonia said, but it felt rather weak.
Even though she felt all the signs, the tears that fell over her cheeks were a surprise and the cry that erupted from her chest was like a shocked gasp.
"Honey." Sonia reaches out to comfort her daughter only for Sara to push her hand away.
"No," Sara cried. "You don't care about hearing Tegan's side of things. You already have your fucking ideas, you just want me to confirm your theory. Is that it?" She was yelling now, but she didn't care. "You want me to say everything so you can hate me!"
Sonia was shocked at the outburst. "Sara calm down, please. I tried to get Tegan to open up but it became too much for her. You know how she can be."
Sara shook her head. "So once again you're going to baby her and treat me like a bad kid."
"That's not it at all. You need to understand-."
"Admit it, you think I'm the reason this whole thing happened. you blame me and you see Tegan as an innocent victim. And it's not because I'm gay it's because I'm me."
Sara was standing up now, tears falling onto the carpet. It was hard to squeeze the words through her sobs but they came out anyway.
Her mother was stunned, the only thing she could do was watch in sorrow as her daughter fell apart in front of her. All she could do was shake her head, try to tell Sara that wasn't the case but there was no convincing her.
"Tell me I'm wrong," Sara begged.
"I love you," Sonia said. A final attempt at grounding the girl.
With one weak cry, Sara stormed away from her mother, away from the basement, out of the house. Sonia's grief shackled her to the chair, and she couldn't find it in herself to go after Sara. She thought she would be prepared to face Sara in a situation like this, but the accusations thrown her way were powerful. All she could do was sit in silence, stung with despair.
Sara was tired of her mother, tired of the house, tired of always being seen as one person when Tegan was involved, but never when it really seemed to count. She felt like she was always running away and the fatigue was catching up with her.