For weeks Peggy honestly wasn't sure what to think.
Did Rosalya return her feelings or didn't she?
Secret smiles were shared when no one was watching. Glances exchanged behind the walls and under the sounds. Shoulders subtly brushed against each other in the hallways. Notes with smileys or kisses printed in purple ink would find their way onto Peggy's desk. Newspapers clipped into heart shapes would always return them.
But they spoke scarcely and the conversations withheld any confirmation about what it was they had.
It was one thing to establish a connection. It was another entirely to nurture a bond.
One day after school Peggy was in the media room, typing up the school newsletter. Her fingers rapidly clicked against the keys as she ranted on about fracking and found ways to link its relevance. She spruced up the gossip she'd heard floating around, but was careful not to embellish enough to find herself in an unraveling lie. The paper finished and satisfactory enough, she set to printing out the copies. It was lucky (fate, perhaps? the mushy romantic inside of her would muse) that Rosalya chose to barge into the room when she did, or else she might have missed Peggy.
Royal blue pools snapped up the instant the door flung open, wide and startled. "Hey Rosa," Peggy murmured, trying to keep calm, "What brings you here?"
The snow-haired beauty said nothing. Her eyes burned into Peggy's and she strode across the distance that separated them and captured the journalist in a hungry kiss. Peggy forcefully grabbed the silky plum tie tucked into Rosalya's vest, unwilling to risk her getting away as she kissed back.
Things went on like that for awhile. During school days they still spoke in silent volumes and touched each other briefly. But after school they would kiss and chat the day away with their hands clasped tight. Unless Rosalya had a date with Leigh, of course. Leigh was the unspoken boundary that kept the kisses from going further and the dinner dates from becoming more frequent. But Peggy didn't challenge this less than flattering obstacle, and instead held her tongue.
It was unlike her to do such a thing and didn't sit while with her insides, but if sharing Rosa was what the journalist had to do to keep her in her arms, then that's what she would do. Having a hidden relationship and coming second to Leigh was worth the evenings she spent stroking Rosa's hair and trailing her lips over her supple skin. She told herself that anyway. But it was becoming more and more straining to pretend that none of it got at her.
Images of Leigh's arm curling over her girlfriend's waist lingered spitefully in Peggy's thoughts.
And eventually his taste on Rosa's mouth became so thick that the journalist was choking on it.
"Him or me."
Amber eyes grew fraught and round. "Peggy," she whispered with an unusually small voice, "Please don't make me do this."
Peggy clenched her jaw and stood firm.
Rosa's orbs glistened as they wavered, but they were resigned. "Him. I-I'm sorry, Peggy I really am. You have to know that- I do care about you." Tears began rolling down her face and her quivery voice cracked. "But I'm deeply in love with Leigh. I've loved him for two years." She pushed her moist lips to Peggy's freckled cheek and then drew back. Whirling around, she took off quickly with her face in her hands.
Peggy watched the snowy cascade of hair dance like a blizzard behind her fleeting steps, tears of her own beginning to leak.