She was a fellow 'Puff, the first woman Rolanda kissed.
Well, not a woman, they were still fourteen-year-old girls wearing their house colours everywhere they could because they just loved them - yellow hair bands, yellow socks, yellow and black necklaces.
"Your hair is so dark…" She had said, Rolanda's best friend, her first love. She carded her hands through the black locks, twisted them round her fingers. "You should wear your yellow flower clip more often, it suits you."
And she had kissed Melanie, even though it was stupid and she could lose her bestie and she'd probably just be pushed off in horror. She was more surprised when she wasn't than if she had been, but not unhappy - so, so frickin' far from unhappy.
"I can't… I can't believe this is happening," she had said, kissing her again. Melanie said nothing. "Mel?"
"I- I'm mad about you Landie. Will you… We won't stop this, right?" How breathless, how scared she'd sounded. Of course Rolanda couldn't even contemplate leaving her.
"Never, Mel, this- this is permanent." Commitment. Promises. All the things that usually smothered her, but right then she felt free as a bird, flying broomless.
Oh, Mel.