It's been five days. Five days since that Sunday where Spencer knelt outside my window, outside my little girl world, begging to be let inside. Begging for so much more than I was ready for, but leaving me with so much more than I ever expected. Leaving me with windows left unlocked and whispered safeties. Leaving me stuck inside wet lips pressed to fragile foreheads. Leaving me wondering how sky blue could sear such warmth inside dark brown.
Leaving me with a little girl heart wrapped inside her careful hands, tucked inside such thick safety.
But I'm still nervous. So nervous. Five days later, I'm still mumbling, stuttering even, when she's near. When she's close. Feeling my cheeks on fire, drowning in my sweaty palms, painfully realizing that messy expression is unfortunately true. So true. They're all true, all those hopeless cliches, and they're filling me inside. The butterflies, the dry lips, the swimming thoughts. Just for feeling her ethereal eyes on me. No matter how safe or how gentle, still feeling the burn. Still feeling the danger in such exhilarating amounts.
I still shake when she calls. Every night, every moment, seeing her name flash before my eyes, I feel that heart of mine drop in my chest. Like it were pulling all the blood from the rest of my body, leaving my limbs numb and trembling. Leaving my fingers fumbling to answer her call, so afraid to pick up, but still so desperate to hear her voice. Because the tremble always fades. Because the quiver always subsides. Because the words always come easily, the conversation always lasts hours, and the silence - the silence always feels safe. So safe, even as it stretches on and on, mixing our breaths and our smiles together.
Mixing together the most comforting formula I've ever heard or ever felt.
A formula that's carried me all the way here. Carried me to Friday and through the nerves, through the cliches, through the hearts thumping, a strange sense of satisfaction has set in. Has found me. Entered and shifted and its just twisting and turning me into something new. Something different. Something in the form of a girl who doesn't care that she had to get up early this morning or that she couldn't find her favorite frumpy button down shirt. A girl who didn't mind settling for the too tight button down her mother bought for her. The one that has always required a t-shirt, a safety shirt, to wrap around her fragile body.
No, that girl has ditched the safety today. She's carelessly left it behind in her closet, feeling like maybe she doesn't need it. Feeling terrifyingly brave enough to risk the cling and mold, wearing the shirt her mother bought for her in the way she meant it to be worn.
Fitted and tight, showing every inch of the body beneath it.
But both that girl and that body belong to me and maybe it's that dawning realization, as I park in my usual shadowy spot, that has the strange satisfaction bleeding away from me. Just flowing out of my heart and steering straight out of my pores. Floating and breezing through the air of my windows, out into the world, instead of searing inside me.
Leaving all those cliches, nerves, and thumping hearts to act up on me again.
Because what am I doing wearing this shirt? What am I doing showing off this body? Who am I to believe I could be my mother by wearing one of her shirts?
Who ever said little girls become big girls by leaving off undershirts?
Shaking my head, suddenly (too suddenly) feeling very insecure. Feeling very frightened, like I might just turn this car around and drive all the way back home. Drive all the way back to that little girl and that dissatisfaction and that life as it was before. The one tucked behind locked windows.
"You know something, Shady..." And then her voice is calling to me, filling me, fitting me better than any button down or safety shirt, giving me the satisfaction I was so close to easily losing, like she's actually capturing all of it from outside my window, capturing everything that had almost breathed right out of me, "...even in the shade you stand out." Her eyes squint down on me, as if I were the sun that's really behind her, silhouetting her body, "...More than anyone."
My fingers grip for my car keys, jingling and twirling them over and over again, just trying to hold onto something real because everything else feels so fabricated. Feels like falling, so fast and so hard. Whirring me into a blur.
I don't know what to say, what to give back to her, but once again she breaks me from my little girl over analyzing as she simply whispers "Hey" into the morning air. The morning air that's never felt crisper, because that simple "hey" wasn't simple at all. Not even close. I've never heard one word soaked in such intimacy, such inclusion, like it were made just for me. Like it were sculpted to perfection from her lungs and shaped inside her gorgeous lips and pressed inside my heart. Saying so much more than just hello. Saying things like maybe she's pictured my smiles too. Like she's been picturing them all around her and beneath her and inside her.
And now that crisp intimate morning air has me strangely gasping for a breath, like I haven't been grasping for the past five day, as I try whispering a choked "Hey" right back to her. Praying it says everything hers said, because she needs to know I do feel it. Hoping it doesn't even come close to saying what hers said, because I'm still such a little girl who doesn't understand how to feel it.
"So are you gonna come with me to class, or am I just gonna have to join you in there?" But then her calm voice floats inside me, like it always does, blinking me from my baby blur, bringing me to look into her clear eyes, so clear they keep me from losing myself, "...Actually, you know what? I think I like that second option way more. So you just stay right where you are and I'll be there in a second."
But she doesn't move. She only lifts her lips in a warm smirk, like she knows I would never ever even think of skipping school. Like she knows what a good little girl stands before her, even without her safety layer.
"Yeah, I think I'm gonna have to go with option number one, too." I smirk right back, finally feeling the formula, finally finding my voice, and noticing the way her face falls just the tiniest bit I can't help but whisper sincerely, "...Unfortunately."
Finally making sure she does know I do feel it.
Her smiling face looks back to me, eyes looking nowhere but me as I finally leave the familiarity of my car, entering the frightful crisp air.
"Boo, you're no fun!" She keeps smiling, dressed in playfulness as she sweetly watches me. Watches sweetly until her eyes change. Until those eyes zero in on me "...That shirt, it, uh, it looks really good on you..." Eyes still crawling and pausing and pushing and peeling, turning me into a puddle of flush and fire, "...I mean, you look really cute...in it...on you."
She keeps fumbling for her words as a coat of red colors her cheeks, looking more like me than her, and it gives me a smile. A smile I'm so desperate for, finally feeling on the same page, feeling equal, feeling like we're both the same girl, instead of ones who are light years away from each other.
"Thank you." Whispered and humbled, I glimpse down at my sneakers, watching how they twist and turn all on their own.
"Of course." With words she ropes my eyes back to hers, smiling dumbly, instantly remembering our weekend, routinely remembering all those sleepovers and those moments, and things that didn't happen but could have. Once again, feeling mortified and exhilarated at once, knowing that those things could happen someday. Could happen right now, "...So you ready for some serious art fun? Find out what kick ass assignments your dad has waiting for us?"
But her sarcasm derails the humiliating memories, extinguishes the fire starting thoughts, as I feel her wrap around me as if she were the perfect undershirt. Like I'll never need anything more.
"Probably. But he's not gonna be here today so I guess it'll just have to wait for Monday." Distantly mumbles from my oblivious lips, not even sure I really said it. Too caught up picturing her smiles, feeling my cheeks rosy with what flashes before my eyes. For the briefest second finding her hovering over me-
"What?!" Her practically shrieking voice shakes me from those inappropriate thoughts, finding her oddly shocked, "...and we're still standing here?? We should be at the beach by now."
Beach? What? No, no, no. That is not gonna happen, and I don't care how pathetic my excuse is, I have to make sure she understands that I'm not the ditching type, even when my dad's not around. Even when no one's around.
"Um, no, I don't - I mean, I just, that's something that-"
"Yeah, you're probably right. Ditching's a bad idea..." Soft and sweet and everything I need, she placates my worry, extinguishes my ramble, "...Iguess we'll do the whole school thing. Man, you are such a good influence on me."
Eyes seriously trained on mine, she hangs her mouth open. Crookedly. Enticingly. And my smile couldn't grow bigger, couldn't stretch further across my face. Because that suggestive sentence just sounded so good on her.
Sounded even better on me.
"Oh yeah?"
My stomach suddenly twists in knots, twists in complication and confusion, because I've never said anything so flirtatious, so daring, so suggestive, and the smirk she shines to me, through me, says she knows it. Looks like she's surprised even. But it's more than that. Looks like she's proud, like she's been waiting for this. Just waiting for me to play along, so she can play back. So she can play even harder.
"Oh yeah." Heightened smirk, darkening eyes, "...So good it's almost bad."
Internally gulping and gasping, reaching for those keys again, needing the tangible because that smirk is going places I know nothing about, places I never even knew existed, crumbling my stomach into a series of crumbs.
"Shit, I totally forgot something in my car..." Before I can stumble away from those scary scary places, she's already driving us back inside the places I do know, places I'm learning, places only she's shown me, "...will you wait for me while I just run back and get it?"
I barely nod, softly assuring her, feeling like it's so pointless, because I don't think I'd ever go anywhere without her. I think I'd wait forever for her, if it meant she'd be with me someday.
I would wait forever for that.
What a pathetic thought, what a sad little thought. A thought that should have me running, so far and so fast. Leaving her waiting for me, because she can wait. Because she's been waiting and she does it easily. So easily.
But I'm not running or pathetic or sad. I'm only smiling as I wait for her, so easily, possibly easier than anything I've ever done. Just waiting and picturing and remembering soft smiles, wet kisses, and beds with people moving inside them.
People like us.
"Hey Ashley."
Someone's voice, a voice that does not belong to Spencer, interrupts my very inappropriate thoughts, and I'm turning around still foolishly half praying/half expecting it to be Spencer. Just needing it to be her when she's on my mind, when she's in such dangerous places.
When I'm there with her.
But it's so not Spencer. It's Aiden. And now I'm truly mortified. Feeling that button down clinging tighter than ever.
"Oh, uh, hey." My surprise and suspicion couldn't be any clearer, because really what does he want with me when Spencer's all the way back there?
"How's it going?"
Seeing him closer, seeing him under the real rays of the sun, I find something different about him. Something in the way he repeatedly pulls on his black backpack straps. Finding it so familiar. Too familiar. Finding it just like me and my maroon backpack. And somehow it calms me. Relaxes me, finding his easy smile so welcoming and so open.
So accepting.
"It's ok. How bout with you?"
His smile grows, maybe seeing the ease inside myself, maybe seeing the way that suffocating shirt has loosened just the tiniest bit. Just enough to let me breathe.
"Pretty good. So stoked the weekend's here."
Laughter lilts from his lips, so warmly, like he doesn't want anything from me. Like all he needs is for me to breathe easy. Like all he needs is to keep waiting with me, even if he doesn't know what we're waiting for.
"Yeah. Seriously."
And I don't know how that makes me feel. Because now we're just kinda looking at each other. Because now his eyes are starting to remind me of someone else's.
"You got any plans?"
Somehow, I swallow five breaths all at once, feeling so uneasy. Feeling so out in the open, because he's looking at me like Spencer looks at me. He's doing things that only Spencer's done, and I'm not sure I want that. I'm not sure he's allowed that. But what's really frightening? I'm not sure what my eyes are telling him. I'm praying my eyes aren't mistakenly taking his for Spencer's.
"Um, well..."
Stuttering into oblivion, so different from my Spencer stutter, I frantically look for words. Any words, anything at all to answer this question and move on. Moving back to Spencer.
"Hey there..." And then her hand's on me, sitting low and hot on my back. Like a line casting herself out to me, so she can guide me back to shore. Guide me back to her. Guide me where I belong, "...you ready?"
Whispers right into my ear, like the little words are too sacred, too intimate for Aiden's ears.
And I'm blushing more than ever, as I whisper "Yeah", right back to her, right inside her. Giving her my sacred and my intimate. Slowly forgetting about any one else who might be in this parking lot, as my eyes flick toward her, threatening to flutter as those painting fingers draw softly over my too tight shirt.
"Hey it's Spencer, right?" But Aiden's clueless voice breaks us from our moment. From our world, finding him looking at us so easily, so unaffected, until his eyes suddenly change, finally looking at both of us, like we were a whole, like we belong in a world outside his. And maybe now he understands whose eyes belong with who, "Um, I'm - I'm Aiden."
But he coughs as he says this, showing off his discomfort. Displaying his understanding of the situation. His grasping the two of us, seeing us whole, proving how much experience he has. Proving what little perception I actually have. Because what he's picked up on in thirty seconds I'm still trying to figure out.
"Yeah, I know who you are." Coolly falls from Spencer's lips, icing over this entire scene, even though her hand is still burning a hole in my back. Burning a branding stamp on my heart.
"Yeah, uh, well I guess I'll see you guys in class."
Aiden mumbles, beyond uncomfortable, beyond frozen from Spencer's icy glare, and I can't help but feel bad for the guy. I can't help but squint at him as he stumbles away from us. Not even waiting to hear us say goodbye.
"Man, I really don't like that kid." Spencer huffs, so put off, so out of character, making me forget about any pity or sympathy for Aiden [or anyone, bringing me to only see her, only feel her, looking at her, quizzically, "...He's totally sketchy. I mean, you get that vibe from him too, right?"
Her eyes desperately cling to mine, so much hidden behind the blue, so much I can't read, some much I long to understand as she begs for me to agree. Begs for my approval. And I wish I could give her that, I wish I could give her everything, let alone something she so clearly believes in. But I can't. I can't because I didn't get that vibe from him. Not really. Not that much. Not at all.
I didn't get anything from him but a sense of me. And how could I bag that when I'm finally starting to accept it?
"Well, I don't know..." Searching down at the pavement between our close feet, like I'm searching for something to hold onto, like I know this is not gonna go over well, "...He doesn't seem that bad."
"That bad?!" Spencer is clearly not having it, yelping into the space between us, so disbelieving, so ridiculously disbelieving, and I'm starting to get confused. Because really he's not that bad, really he's no different from me, with his black backpack and humble eyes. And maybe she sees my confusion, my suspicion, cause something changes in her face, "...Ok. Fine. I guess he's not that bad..." Insert healthy eye roll, here "...or whatever."
For some reason, I can't help but smile back at her. Like I were the one proud now. Like I were so happy to hear her playing along, but playing nice. And it looks like she knows it, looks like despite herself, she can't help catching my pride.
"So where's your dad again?"
"Oh, actually, both he and my mom are out today. It's their anniversary and they go on this trip down to San Diego every year for it. So yeah, they're both gone."
I'm still so clueless as I mumble these dangerous words. Not even realizing the heaviness in their meaning, not until I hear Spencer's delectable voice. Not until it pushes inside me, pushes every bit of the heavy.
"So wait, they're both gone? Like gone gone? For the whole weekend?" Suddenly, like a kid on Christmas morning, her eyes widen in delight. In complete unadulterated delight, and I'm just starting to see the agenda in the blue, the smirk in the suggestion, "...and you seriously think we're not gonna ditch?? Oh Shady, You may be good, but you're not that good..." My stomach twists inside her crooked crafty grin, twists so unbelievably good, "...especially when you're with me."
"But, I - I'm, uh..."
And I'm not talking any more. I'm not mumbling, stuttering, or looking for a way out. I'm only looking for a way in, because her hand's softly tied inside mine. Because she's gently threading our fumbling fingers together, somehow pulling me closer to her, feeling our shoulders bump briefly. Bringing my eyes to look into hers, so far and so deep, feeling like I could lose myself there. Feeling like it's the first time. Feeling the butterflies flying free deep inside me.
"Come with me, Ash." Feels like falling, so hard and so fast, as she leans into my ear, whispering her intimacy right there, so far inside me, "...please, come be with me."
And as I finally chance looking into her eyes, chance falling and drowning inside them, I can't help but smile. I can't help but nod. Because it doesn't feel like falling anymore. Standing beside her with an open road weekend before us, doesn't feel scary or cliche. It only feels safe. It only feels right.
Because her hand inside mine only feels like freedom.
--------
Spencer's barely covered body sits, gorgeously, on her pool's cement edge, legs draped in the cool water, idly kicking and splashing. And I'm watching it all from behind a sliding glass door. From outside a silly glass case, waiting for my moment to break inside it. Waiting for my moment to break inside hers.
Still waiting as I stand here, looking at her looking like such a little kid inside such a contradicting bikini. Looking so innocent while she wears a single thread. Feeling so open and bare inside this bathing suit. A bathing suit that both belongs to Spencer and fits Spencer, better than it could ever fit me.
But I had no other choice, this simple black bikini [the first bikini I've ever worn was what she chose for me. What she tossed to me, as she skipped out her back door, casually calling over her shoulder, voice airy and suggestive, "hurry up so we can play."
I never thought such an innocent word like 'play' could be so dirty. Could have me stalling and stuttering behind a glass wall. All by myself. Clinging to my own transparent reflection for comfort and relief.
It's when I stumble upon this realization, the one involving me relying so much on my own apparition, that gets me to finally collect my clothes and timidly leave this glass case. Sliding open that door, hearing the swoosh and the squeak. Hearing it blare my presence more than I ever wanted, more than I'll ever want. Because I've never been one to make an appearance, especially when I'm wearing something close to nothing.
Especially when I'm making an appearance for her.
And suddenly she stops kicking. She stops splashing. Stops everything, like she needs all her senses for this. For me. Wanting nothing to break this moment where she sees me like she's never seen me before. Without that pathetic t-shirt holding me captive. Without having to come to my rescue.
Finally seeing me when she has the right to stare.
And she is staring. Staring and piercing as I tremble my way around the pools curved edge, bundle of clothes held against my chest. Bunched and pinched between my shaking hands, as if they could protect me. Could shield me from her icy eyes chilling inside me. Warming me up. Setting me on fire.
"Wow. That...that looks so good on you..." Distantly dribbles and breathes from her mouth, eyes never leaving my body, hopping and dancing over every inch of my skin, like she were singing me inside her memory, like she were allowed to, and I feel a shiver run down my spine when I realize she is allowed to, "...it looks perfect. You look perfect."
My ears are ringing with such a statement. A statement I'm barely positive she said. Hardly certain she uttered the words "you" and "perfect" in the same sentence while talking about me. And I really don't know what to believe, how to react, with spotlight eyes and perfect words dancing from her to me, so I only whisper "Thanks". Whispering it so softly toward her, hoping it's enough.
She doesn't say anything. Not one word. Like she knows what a nuisance words can be, what a nuisance they've become, like smiles and eyes can say so much more. Like our lips and looks have said more than we've ever heard. Said more than we've ever hoped.
So she smiles, so sweetly that I almost lose my breath. I almost lose it all as I stand practically naked before this girl with her honey hair and her eyes bluer than the pool glimmering before us.
"Come sit with me." Still whispering, because maybe she's breathless too, she pats the spot beside her and for one brief moment a vision of all those little girls from so long ago flies before me. All those girls my age who smiled into each others ears. Whispering secrets and plans while I just watched from the outside never knowing a thing about the inside. About inclusion.
Never until now. Hopeless until today. Finding everything with her.
"Ok."
But I'm still whispering as I timidly sit beside her, still speaking so softly, like I were afraid of waking up. Like I were so afraid of shattering such a perfect setting.
"Hey you."
And as she rasps the words, the words she's rasped so many other times before, I feel something lodge in my throat. Something so big and hearty because this time she rasps it like never before. This time she rasps progression. She rasps life changing. Finally feeling the things that are happening right now, right in this moment, and understanding they'll never go back.
Life is already so far, too far, from what it once was to ever go back.
"Hey." My voice suddenly putters off, losing itself somewhere so far away from me, falling inside my life changed. Watching as she leans over to dip her hands down to her arms into the crisp water, sneakily looking back at me, but I'm not looking back at her. My eyes are trained solely on the small of her back. On her mystery tattoo, suddenly wishing so badly to trace it with my talentless fingers, just to feel her. Like maybe I'd learn something. Like maybe I'd gain a piece of her, inside of me, forever.
But the next thing I know, the next thing I feel, is crisp coldness. Sharp boldness. Water surrounding me, engulfing me, draping me in freshness. Dressing me in freedom. Feeling like it's been so long since I last fell from any heights. Feeling like maybe it's beyond so long.
Feeling like maybe it's the first time I've ever fallen.
When I resurface, weirdly gasping for air, I immediately hear Spencer's adorable giggling. So close, so near, so much like falling, like she were tangled up in me. And when I open my eyes, quickly pulling my hair from its tight bun, letting it fall heavily onto my shoulders, seeking strange release, I find her right there. So close to tangling me inside her.
And I'm so close to letting her.
"Sorry, I just couldn't resist." Puffs from her wet wet lips, seeing the way she blinks water from her eyes, hearing the exaltations in her words, her confounding breathlessness reflecting mine.
"Oh, I'm so sure you're sorry." If I were afraid of waking myself up before, I'm blinking myself awake now. Barely able to comprehend my boldness, briefly wondering if the chlorine I'm swimming in has rubbed off on me. Has given me its strength.
"Yeah, I guess you're right..." Slowly she breaches the small gap between us, literally tying us together, threading our slippery legs, and I almost want to die. I almost believe I have, because this sensation is beyond anything I've ever felt, beyond anything I can possibly comprehend, because how can two people float so easily together, so weightlessly, dancing like we were in mid air, "...I could never apologize for having you here..." Eyes still blinking, but I don't think it's because of the water, she licks her wet lips, as if they were dry, "...when you're right here with me."
I don't know what to say. I don't know if I even have a word left inside me to be muttered. My crashing heart drumming inside my fragile chest just won't allow it, won't allow anything but looks and lips. Eyes and smiles.
"You really have no idea how pretty you are, do you?" But it's her eyes and smiles that fill up my face, that fill me up inside, saying these words like there's nothing she believes more. Like she's been waiting for so long to say them. Waiting since the first day, and as she lifts a tentative hand from my rubbery skin beneath the chlorine, slowly moving it to my sun lit face, tenderly brushing a damp damp curl from my face, she puffs "...So pretty..." Puffs and breathes it so heavy that it sinks right inside my skin, breaks right through my surface.
Breaks straight through my locks.
Suddenly, I feel my hands wrapping around her, wrapping her closer to me, unable to help it. Hoping she feels how much I feel it. Hoping as I lift myself higher above water, fumbling with her legs for leverage, that she feels my bravery, my big girl thoughts, as I wetly press a little girl kiss into her soft forehead.
Hoping it reaches her heart.
Sealing her with my promise of things to come. Giving her my tomorrows, giving her my everything, whether she knows it or not. But I think she does know it, I think she's always known it, because now she's holding me against her. Hugging me with legs and arms and eyes and smiles. Hugging me with what feels like so much freedom.
And as I suddenly wrap myself around her, around her falling heart, finally give her my intimacies, whispering my world through a shaky "thank you" right inside her ear, straight inside her heart, it feels like so much more than freedom.
My body clinging to hers, breathless and bound, feels more like letting go.