Just a heads up, I will be going on a brief hiatus for the next week and a half or so; I am heading out camping to the mountains and won't have any internet connection. Hopefully this keeps you guys happy until I get back and can upload again!
It was pointless to pretend otherwise: things were, undoubtedly, lonely without Lillian.
He wasn't quite sure what he had done to fill up his days before her- and it was in his spare moments, like now, that he realized how dependent on her he had become. Not just for entertainment, but for companionship. He felt he would lose his voice from lack of use- especially so, on days when Cam went off to the city to collect the seeds he would sell as blossoms later in the new year year. It felt strange to have so much free time on his hands; although to be fair, winter was a slightly slower season in Bluebell, as it was in all small towns. With Cheryl having a cold and being kept in bed he had resigned to head to Howard's cafe, hoping that a warm cup of milk would defrost him slightly.
He was a little off-put by the decoration inside. But of course, he had long since lost track of the days; it must be the Winter Thanksgiving Festival. Still, it seemed as if Howard had decorated every available surface with pink hearts and lace, the desserts in the display case all painted with the same sickly pink frosting.
Laney had looked up when the bell above the door sounded, her face brightening as he shut out the cold behind him. "Hey there stranger!" She grinned, coming out from behind the counter. "I was wondering if you'd come by today."
He shrugged, brushing a bit of snow off his shoulder. "I know, it's been a while since I was last in. Could I get a mug of warm milk? The wind is really cold today."
He had barely sat down before the drink was placed in front of him on a rather lacy doily. She didn't wait for an invitation to sit down, as per her usual fashion. "How are things?"
He opened his mouth to say the usual lie (he was fine, no really, doing well as of late) when he caught the expression on her face. Lying to Laney wasn't quite like lying to anyone else; maybe it was the that he had known her so long, and that she could read his face so easily, but suddenly he let out a sigh and ripped his hat off his head. "It's been... different."
She didn't wait for him to admit anything else, but rather reached across the table, her hands cupping his and feeling strangely cool against his frozen skin. "... I'm sorry." He felt a surge of repulsion at the sympathetic look on her face and suddenly wished she wouldn't touch him, yet her grip against his wrists was tight as she continued. "I know it can be hard when someone doesn't return your feelings."
It dawned on him that he was extremely lucky, having not told anyone other than Cam how serious things had gotten with Lillian; it was much easier to pretend that she had merely rejected his romantic confessions, rather than stolen his virginity and practically burnt it in front of his eyes. He yanked his hands out of hers with some difficulty and grabbed his mug, emptying it in one go. He set the cup down on the table and cast around for another topic of conversation. "Yeah, well, life goes on... What are you making? Something sure smells good."
Laney seemed to hesitate before she smiled. "That's actually why I'm glad you came in today. I'm making you a chocolate cake for Thanksgiving; I didn't want to have to try and carry it all the way to your house. Come and help me with it, it actually should be done right away."
A bell sounded from the oven as they went behind the counter, Laney attempting to grab his wrist to guide him as he did so. It wasn't unusual for Laney to make him his own cake; she had done so almost every year, with the exception of the year she was mad at him for spilling pancake batter on her dress. But there was something unusual about her today; she was rather jumpy, her reddened ears signalling that there was something she wasn't telling him.
"What's up? You're all jittery..."
"What? Nothing... Here, come look at your cake."
She hummed slightly and shifted to her right, allowing him to scoot in beside her as they bent to examine the oven window. The cake itself had risen to a rather spectacular height, and he couldn't see how she'd be able to frost it without having it run everywhere. Laney seemed to be watching his face, and spoke before he had a chance to express his concern. "I love baking in the winter. Usually when a cake is done you have to wait for it to cool for hours; then for it to settle and flatten a bit back into the pan before you frost it. But when it's cold like this, I can just put it by an open window and it will be flat and ready to frost in less than an hour."
He held the over door for her as she slipped on oven mitts and eased the cake off the grills. He resisted the temptation to help guide her across the room, and instead watched her balance the over puffed cake in her arms and carry it rather more carefully than she normally would have done to the windowsill. "It's going to get a little chilly in here for a bit, you'd better keep your sweater on."
"And you?" He eyed her little red blouse before turning to the coat rack where she usually kept a shall, frowning slightly when he found it empty. "Do you want me to run upstairs and grab you something?'
"Top drawer in my dresser, thanks." She said a little distractedly, sticking toothpicks in the middle of the cake to test its quality.
He took the stairs two at a time and hesitated slightly before turning her bedroom door knob. It had been many years since he had been in Laney's bedroom -shortly after puberty his mother had had a word with him about maintaining the younger girl's reputation and he had been banned since- however, for the most part it looked the same. Unlike her father, Laney's room had the air of subtly; lace seemed to trim every surface, making it clear that despite the blue décor the room belonged to a woman.
He crossed the threshold, feet guiding him to the dresser before he saw it. It was amazing, really, how Laney's room hadn't changed the slightest. But as he began to ruffle through the top drawer, he realized that was what he expected. Laney didn't change, the way normal people did. It was as if she had come into being, knowing exactly who she was and what she was meant to do; even growing up, he had always gotten the impression that while he was growing into his character, she was merely growing upwards...
He couldn't help the rush of affection that rushed through him as he thought of her. It wasn't romantic, it was purely admiration for her- after all, the girl was his first real friend. They had been through everything together, all the pains of growing up... Before Cam, before Georgia, before Lillian she was there... He paused, his fingers stroking the fabric of a ridiculous purple sweater she used to wear when she was a teenager. Everyone always thought they were supposed to get together. Hadn't they been teased about that since they were kids? If he was really thinking about it... Well, maybe he had always thought them right before. It seemed only natural, after having known each other for so long... She was there from the start, she would be there till the end...
But that had been before, hadn't it? Before Lillian... It was strange. Strange how one moment his whole life he had been content to follow the plan others had made for him, yet a pair of green eyes and lavender scented hair had been enough to throw the whole operation off course... But Lillian had meant a lot more to him than superficially. Although he adored Laney,what he had with Lillian was a lot more intense...
He felt another surge of emotion, and understood for the first time why his father had left. He married his mother before he had experience the intensity of... love, was it? Maybe he had met someone else on one of his frequent buying trips to the city... Well, that would be enough to make anyone leave...
He realized he had been ruffling unseeingly in Laney'd dresser for a few minutes and jerked back quickly. Despite himself he could see Lillian's expression in his mind's eye, watching him as he moved through another girl's bedroom... Could see the smirk, no doubt accompanied by a snide remark... He had always loved how witty she was...
But it hurt too much to think of Lillian. He extracted a rather worn looking sweater from the drawer and jumped slightly as he turned to the door; Laney was perched rather awkwardly on the carpet, as if she had been watching him for some time and waiting for him to notice her. "I just remembered- it's been a while since you were last up here, hasn't it? I thought maybe you had forgotten where things were."
He held up the knobbly sweater in a rather show-off-ish manner before tossing it to her, grinning for the first time in days. "I'm not that hopeless."
She caught it rather clumsily, the tips of her ears still a slight red. "That's true." She paused, nervously folding the sweater over her arm. "Listen, Ash… I've been wanting to say this to you for a while…"
She paused again, and he found himself slightly annoyed with her sheepishness. It wasn't like Laney to keep things from him, or to hold back… He supposed in that way she was rather like Lillian... He felt a slight pang in his stomach and forced himself to look Laney full on in the face; she was rather red and flustered, and seemed to draw a full breath before she burst into speech, her voice slightly higher pitched than usual. "We've been friends for a while now, Ash. I mean, since we were kids… And I know this might be a bit out of left field but… I think I'm in love with you."
He felt his cheeks go off and dropped his eyes to the ground. It was strange; he would have killed to hear Lillian say those very words, would have died of happiness from hearing them, yet now… Now they made his stomach churn in an entirely unpleasant manner. It wasn't that he didn't love Laney, it was just... She wasn't Lillian.
She was waiting for him to say something, and took a tentative step forward in the silence. "I know that given everything that's happened… Well, it's probably not what you want to hear. I just… I can't stand by anymore. I hated not being able to tell you. You can't imagine, how awful it was, all these years, just having to stand by and just be your friend…"
He felt as if he was going to be physically sick; he didn't want to hear anymore, not from her. He had to stop himself from jerking away from her as she placed a hand on his arm, her fingers reaching up to caress his chin, forcing his eyes to meet hers. The whole things felt eerily familiar, but how could she know- that another, much more calloused hand had done that only a season earlier-
"Laney..." He croaked, feeling as if his throat was in the process of being closed up.
But Laney was looking at him like she had never done before- or perhaps, he had simply never noticed. "I hate that girl, for what she did to you." Her voice broke, and he realized with a sudden rush to his stomach that she was on the verge of tears, tears she was crying for him. He went against his better judgement and wrapped an arm around her waist, registering somewhere in the back of his mind that she felt so much smaller than Lillian... "I promise, I will never make you feel like this. I know how much it hurts..."
She was sobbing now, and he wondered how many other times she had cried for him, had woken up in the night knowing that he was unaware of how she felt... He hated it, hated all these girls for crying over him, for bothering with him, Cheryl and Lillian and Laney... Most of all he hated himself, for being the source, even if unknowingly, for their pain. A piece of hair had come unwound from her usual bun and before he could stopped himself he had reached for it, pressing it back into place. Laney closed his eyes at his touch, tears spilling down her cheeks and she spoke.
"We aren't kids anymore, Ash." She said quietly, turning her face until it fitted neatly into his palm. "I know you never really felt the same but… For me, it was always you. Only you."
She opened her eyes and looked at him, really looked at him, mascara beginning to run down her cheeks. He stared back into her cerulean eyes and tried. Tried to make himself see everything in her that he had always loved, had always admired… But how could he? How could be be the man she wanted, needed... How could he, when everything from the hairs on her head to the dimple on her chin were nothing more than a consolation prize, second best to the girl he really loved, who had sacrificed their happiness for the good of his family farm…
"I would be a good wife to you, Ash." She whispered, her lips now dangerously close to his. "I would do right by you, by your family… This is how it's supposed to be."
He knew what she was saying was the truth and hated it. He didn't want to hear anymore and silenced her the only way he knew how; leaning downward, her pressed his lips to hers.
It was nothing like kissing Lillian. Kissing Lillian had been an exchange of breath, and exchange of souls until both of them were so breathtakingly overwhelmed with each other that they had to stop... Laney however, seemed to melt into him, her lips a little ill-fitting on his as she remained perfectly still beneath his touch. It was entirely underwhelming yet not entirely unpleasant.
He pulled away before he could taste her on his lips; despite that she left a bitter sweet feeling in his mouth as he straightened, her tear-streaked face looking up at him hopefully making him dread the words he was about to say.
"... I don't know, Laney." He hated himself, hated watching her face crumple into a frown as he said it. "... I need a little time." A little time to get over the fact that you will never, ever, be as good as her. "I just... Let me think about things for a bit, okay?"
He extracted himself from her and bolted towards the staircase. Vaguely, as he hopped the last few steps, it occurred to him that he had spent a vast majority of the past year storming away from people he loved in a dramatic fashion.
Sorry to leave this on such a rotten note... Regardless, please read and review! See you next week sometime.