Hi! First of all thanks so much to my reviewers, I'm glad you liked the first chapter. This was originally going to be a one chapter story, but I've changed my mind, so I'm sorry if it seems to go a bit downhill from now on. If it does, please still review and tell me - constructive criticism is more than welcome.
Chapter 2.
Waking up in someone else's bed for the first time is a little disconcerting. Waking up in it naked, with another girl – a friend even – is downright weird. Which is why I sat bolt upright and gasped too loudly. It woke Abby, of course. She looked fine. Not at all shocked or anything. Then again, why was I? 'Because you like guys!' screamed one part of my brain. 'God, she's gorgeous,' said another. I tried to listen to both sides. That didn't work. I tried to shut them both out. That didn't work either. Finally, I let my head think what it wanted to think, and did my best to ignore all the confusion in my brain. I turned to look at Abby. She was smiling slightly, as if she knew what I was thinking. I was starting to relax a little when I heard voices come from downstairs. That got her attention. We slipped out of bed and quietly got dressed, then looked each other in the eye. An unspoken agreement told us not to say a word to anyone until we had had a chance to talk. I shut my eyes for a moment and tried to calm my nerves while Abby brushed her hair. On our way down to the kitchen, she struck up a conversation about sports. Neither of us was really in the mood, but I got the message – act normal. So I joined in. To someone who didn't know anything about sports, we would have sounded like we always do. Fortunately, Anna and Mrs. Stevenson don't. They greeted us both, and then went back to what they had been talking about. Perfectly normally. Like nothing had happened. No questions, no surprise at me being there. The only comment made, was Anna saying that she was glad we weren't fighting any more. Strange, but I couldn't remember ever having had an argument with Abby, although I knew that we had both been on edge the day before. I couldn't help grinning as I remembered how we'd solved that.
Half an hour later, I was still in their kitchen. I was also headed for a nervous breakdown at any moment. I made my excuses, said goodbye to Abby as calmly as I could and left, promising to call later. As I made my way into my own house, I couldn't help feeling guilty. I was sure my Mum, at least, would be able to tell. So it was a shock, to say the least, when I got the same jovial greetings from my whole family as I do when I come home from any ordinary sleepover. A shock, but a relief.
I declined breakfast, explaining that I'd eaten, and went upstairs to my bedroom to think. I thought about past relationships. Not that I'd had many, but enough. Enough to make me wonder what the hell was going on. I thought about Bart. I wasn't surprised to find that I didn't need long to think about him. I had known for most of the so-called relationship that it wasn't really one at all. Yes, I had been upset by the break up, but that had been more about losing a friend than anything else. Then there was Michel. That little something we started in Paris hadn't lasted long since we'd arrived home. Oh, we had tried, of course. We stayed in contact, we wrote, we called, we emailed, we even met up once. But it had never felt much like a relationship to me, and I guessed that he felt the same way, because after a while he suggested that we make it more of a penpal/friendship thing than a romantic one. I frowned suddenly and sat up, remembering. There had been something – a feeling – that I couldn't put my finger on at the time. Something that didn't quite fit in with what I thought I should feel. What had it been? I stared at myself in the mirror, desperately trying to drag myself back in time to that feeling. It came to me suddenly, and my mouth dropped open in surprise. Relief. I had been relieved that a perfectly wonderful guy, someone who actually found my faults endearing and had told me I was wonderful, beautiful and brilliant on numerous occasions had decided to call it all off.
As I sat pondering this, wondering exactly where I was going to go from here, my door opened and an uncertain-looking girl walked in. I looked up at Abby, not having a clue what to do or say now. The look in her eyes said it all. It was time to talk.