"I'm sorry it's so late. We don't have to talk long."

"No, Sara. I'm fine. We can talk."

"Good," she said, and I could barely hear her, but she sounded surprisingly happy. "Hi."

"Hey," I said, trying not to cry. I'd just gotten myself to stop, and my head was starting to hurt. "How have you been? Are you okay? Your parents-"

"My parents are believing everything. I'm alright," she said. "You?"

"Yeah, mine bought it, too," she said. "I think. They've at least stuck their heads in the sand. They made me hang out with them a little, but that's about it."

"Good. I was so worried." I couldn't imagine how she had room to worry for me when her life was the way that it was. "I've spent most of my time at home or at my dad's church praying."

"Why? What have you been praying about?" I asked. She'd said they bought it, but I was still afraid for her.

"My recovery. Praying for it to last," she said. "I'm being forced to talk to other kids who have been through camps. Some of them have horror stories. A lot worse than ours."

"I'm sure. At least we were just deprived of food and emotionally manipulated...outside of Johnny and Mike," I said, not even trying to hide the bitterness and lingering fear in my voice. "Sad to think we got off easy."

"My parents are using me to show a successful recovery. They've already recommended a few other parents send their kids to camps...places that are worse than Exodus. Places where kids are saying they were all but tortured.. My parents are saying they've been compassionate with how they've treated me."

"What? How? How are those assho-" I caught myself. Sara still loved them, somehow. "-people compassionate?"

"I suppose since they let me try to fix it myself. Let me choose a 'soft' camp. My dad keeps calling it that, saying that the only reason it worked was because of my strong upbringing in their home and their close relationship with God." I could hear her voice starting to crack.

"I'm sorry," I said. "That's horrible."

"It's fine. I'm fine." I heard her clear her throat a little. "I don't really want to talk about it. I mostly just want to talk to you. I'm glad to hear your voice. I miss you."

"I miss you, too," I said back, fine with the subject change, if she needed it. "I keep expecting you to be there when I wake up. Sitting at the desk or cuddling with me."

"I know. I turn over, and it takes me a few seconds for me to remember that your bed isn't there," she said. "How have you been? Not just in an 'are you alive?' kind of way."

"Not great, but it could be worse," I said honestly. "My parents are trying to act like nothing happened, and it's driving me crazy."

"What have you told them?" she asked me.

"Nothing, really. The most they know about camp was that it was hard and I started dating Jeremy, and one of those things is a lie." She laughed a little, and I smiled. "What have you told yours?"

"They haven't really asked," she said. "I'm sure they're not that interested as long as it worked. They're watching me closely. I don't know how long that will last."

"Not forever," I said.

"Yeah, probably not," she said. "If I'm quiet, they tend to stop paying attention until I get in trouble again...or try to change again."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Has...has it at least gotten better? Like, they seemed proud of you at camp."

"They are. Thursday and Friday, we did a lot of family praying for my well being, and they made me a nice dinner and let me have...let me have a full plate." I could always hear it when Sara realized in the middle of a sentence that something she was about to say wasn't normal parent behavior. "They were happy with me. The weekend was mostly about church."

"Yeah, you said." I felt so bad for her. I wished that I could just get her out. "What are your plans for next week?"

"Well, Samantha is back in the morning. She did really well at her camp. All sorts of medals and stuff. We'll probably spend most of the week doing whatever she wants to do, which is usually shopping sprees or amusement parks or something. Probably won't get invited if it's something big, which means time home alone outside of the maid. She's been told to watch me, though."

"Of course," I said, rolling my eyes. "You don't sound sad, though."

"I don't mind staying home. Now that I have you, I don't have to sneak out to the bars and clubs anymore. And as far as my sister goes, I'm hoping that she doesn't suddenly want to bond, and that she just does her own thing like usual. I like the free time, and it might mean I can make a few extra calls to you."

"In that case, I'm thrilled. I have very few plans for my near future."

"You're not going to school?" she asked me.

"I don't know," I said. "I don't think so. Not right now. You aren't disappointed, are you?"

"Not at all," she said. "Do you want to do anything instead?"

I shrugged to myself. "I guess try to get going playing music. I've done an open mic here and there, but I never had enough time to take it seriously. If I want to take it seriously, I need to get a move-on while I'm young."

"You've still never played for me," she said. I could hear her smile, and I laughed a little.

"I will," I said. "Give me some time to get back into it. I probably sound like shit right now."

"I like your voice just talking. I'm sure I'd love it singing," she said without missing a beat. I was glad she wasn't here to see me blush.

"I really don't want you to build this up in your head. I write shitty songs on the guitar."

"Ah, I thought you said you didn't write anything," she said. "Lying this early in the relationship?"

"Besides calling me, any other plans for your free time?" I asked her.

"Really think you can change the subject that easily, do you?"

"Fine, I write music, and I promise to play it for you eventually. Now tell me your plans."

She chuckled a little more before answering, "I don't even know what to do. I've always let my parents plan my future. They were probably planning on sending me to community college until I brought an acceptable boy home. Or until they found me one if I was taking too long on my own. All I used to do was pray, cry, imagine being with girls, try to force myself to imagine being with boys, and pray some more. At night, sometimes, I went out. I didn't do anything else."

"Well, maybe you can spend your time figuring that stuff out," I said. "Get online. Watch TV or read books or start a blog or whatever. I can give you my Netflix password."

"I don't have a TV in my room, and I don't have a computer," she said. "I check my e-mail at the library."

"What about your phone?" I asked.

"What about my phone? I got it at a discount kiosk at the mall when I was fourteen. It doesn't even have a keyboard."

I shook my head. "Okay, if you're going to have a secret phone, you might as well go all out, Sara. Get a smartphone. One with all the coolest shit in it. At least get one with a decent data plan. Or data at all, since you apparently have a phone from 1992."

"I bought it on a whim. I barely use it."

"Doesn't change my point, and we both know you'll be using it more now." She didn't respond for a second, so I added, "I can pay, if you want. I know this stuff gets expensive, and I've got some money saved."

She laughed. "No, no, I can get one on my own. I just don't even know what to look for."

"I'll help you...from here...somehow. I guess I could e-mail you links, and you could look at them at the library. I wish we could see each other."

"I'd offer to sneak out, but I don't want to risk you getting caught," she said.

"What about you?" I asked. "You could get caught."

"I have a lot more experience sneaking out than you do. It's less likely my parents find out than yours," she said. I could make the argument that her parents would react a lot worse than mine if they did find out, but that didn't seem productive in the moment.

"Well, I doubt my parents would let me go hang out with you, so if you don't want to risk me going out on my own, it's a no-go. As much as they want to believe camp worked, I think they know something isn't quite right, you know? Me hanging around you is just going to bring all my gay out, and they'll know it's you."

I heard her trying to hold back from laughing too hard. I felt sad as I realized she had to be quiet to keep her parents from hearing, but I was happy that she was laughing at all. It was a sound that I wanted to hear more as Sara got more comfortable with herself.

We talked for a bit, joking around and catching each other up on everything we'd been through. I told her about Jeremy and my parents breathing down my neck. She told me more about her parents and how she had to be more careful now that she wasn't buying all this anymore. It was really nice, just getting to chat like this. When things were good with us, it was so incredibly easy and fun. It was worth all the crap we'd been through, and it was worth all we'd have to go through.

"So...I saw Lindsey," I said after about an hour of talking. I'd debated not telling her, but I wanted to be honest. Besides, I was sort of into the idea of hanging out with Lindsey. Outside of the fact that she totally mishandled our thing, she was a really cool person to hang out with, and we had a lot in common. I didn't want it to be a problem with Sara, though.

"What? How?" she asked, and I could tell she was a little concerned.

"I went to the coffee shop," I said. "It wasn't like to meet up with her or anything. I just saw she was working and stopped in. Figured it would be good for closure, and so things wouldn't be awkward if I saw her around."

"Oh," she said. "Okay. How did it go?"

"Well. I mean, it's not like I want to go running back. It's almost weird that I was ever into her. She was so obviously not going to be the person I ended up with. Still, I do like her. I think...I think she could be a good friend for me, though. Someone out here." Sara didn't say anything right away, so I added, "If it's okay with you. Nothing will happen either way, but I understand if it freaks you out."

"No, you need friends out there," she said. "I know Jeremy doesn't live near you. You need people to talk to that you can confide in. You really don't seem interested anymore, and I trust you."

I smiled to myself. "Thanks for understanding. I really am over her."

"I know," she said. "I know that you love me."

My smile got bigger. "I really do. You know, though, you need some friends, too. Maybe someone else at your church?"

"The people that go to my church do not raise abnormal children. Even when they do, they just threaten their kids until they act like everyone else so they don't seem abnormal. I wouldn't even know who was faking from who was going to run to my parents saying that I hadn't been cured of my deviance."

I sighed in frustration. "Fuck, I hate your people. All of them. I'm sorry, but I do."

"It's fine," she said. "You don't have to like them."

"Well, as soon as you get out of that hellhole, I'm finding you friends. People who will like you. Not as much as I do, but they'll like you a lot."

"Okay," she said so quietly I wouldn't have heard had my house been otherwise silent. "We'll figure it out, right?"

It was in the form of a question because she didn't quite believe it. It was good that she was asking, though, because it meant that she hadn't given up, yet.

"Yeah, Sara," I answered. "I swear, we will make this work, and I will help you figure out your life."

"Thank you, Tegan," she said.

"No problem," I said through a yawn, and I heard Sara giggle.

"You're getting tired, aren't you?"

"Please don't hang up," I said. "I don't want to hang up. You can just talk to me in my sleep."

"I'll call again," she said.

"When?" I asked. "I mean, I know you have other things going on, but-"

"I get it," she said. "Waiting by the phone sucks. That's why I sort of made a plan. Sundays, my dad is usually busy. We either end up hanging around the church, or my mom takes me and my sister home. I can call or text then. It'll be between 1 and 2? Other than that, I'll call when I can, but don't worry if you don't catch me."

"When do I know it's okay to text you back?" I asked. "I don't want to get you in trouble."

"I'll only text you to call me, and I'll tell you...a time window or something," she said. "I've been trying to think of things. Things so we can talk. I'm making an effort."

"I can tell," I said with a smile.

"I miss being able to talk to you," she said. "I miss lots of things about having you around, and a big one is not being able to talk to you whenever things are getting hard."

"I'll be here when I can be," I said. "But I know what you mean. I got used to having you always be there for me, too."

"I never felt like I was helping you," she said. "It was always the other way around."

"You've shown me what real strength is with the way that you've been able to survive your life at all. You've taught me to think about things more. Think about myself more. Think about others more. Just...I guess this sort of sounds like I'm saying you taught me how to think."

She laughed. "I think I get what you're saying."

"And...um..." I almost didn't add what I was thinking, but I felt it needed to be said. "Our sex...you helped me figure out things that I liked that I don't think I would have ever allowed myself to try. If I had, it might have been with someone that took advantage of me. It means a lot to me that you only pushed me as far as I could go, and that you're so open to all of this stuff."

She got quiet for a few seconds, and I got scared that I'd said something wrong. It was so easy to spook her I knew it wouldn't always be like this, but it was hard to deal with, not knowing if something I said would throw her into a destructive personal spiral.

"Have you missed it?" she asked me after a few seconds.

"What?" I was caught off guard. "Missed what, exactly?"

"Have you missed me touching you, Tegan?"

Hearing her voice drop was somehow even sexier over the less-than-great reception of the phone.

"Of course I have," I said. If I hadn't before, I certainly did now. Sara had that way of instantly making my mind go into the gutter. Maybe it was all the orgasms she'd given me. "It's hard to go from having you all the time to being on my own."

"On your own?" she asked. "Have you touched yourself since you've gotten home?"

"No," I said honestly. "I haven't had the chance. Even if I had, it's not like I can do to myself what you can do to me. I still have the marks from the last time." I traced the ones on my stomach with my finger as I talked to her. "Have you touched yourself?"

"No. I've barely had a minute alone, and when I go to bed, I'm usually asleep pretty fast right now," she said. I heard her take a few deep breaths. "Don't get me wrong, Tegan. I miss everything about you, but not being able to fuck you is going to be the hardest part."

"I don't doubt that," I said. "I know how much you love touching me. You need your hands on me as often as possible." I hoped she heard the smirk in my voice.

"I think you needed it just as much."

"Who fucked who first?" I asked. "Who bent who over a desk?"

"You wouldn't be nearly as cocky if I were there to wrap my hand around your throat."

"I...fuck, Sara." I ran my hand ran along my neck, wishing it were Sara's. Wishing she were here to squeeze and tell me how much I loved it.

"What are you wearing?" she asked me, all of the joking and friendliness from moments before gone from her voice. I never understood how she could switch gears that fast (or how she could make me switch gears so fast), but I was glad for it.

"Black t-shirt and blue shorts."

"Underwear?" she asked.

"No," I answered in a hurry, running my hand down to the waistband of my shorts. I was thinking how I hoped she wouldn't make me tease myself (too much), then I heard a knock on my bedroom door. I shoved the phone into the mattress and yelled, "Yeah?"

"Tegan," my dad said through the door. "Tegan, are you talking?"

"Uh...no!" I called in a mild panic. What had he heard? "It's just my TV! I'll turn it down!"

"Well, shut it off and head to bed. It's really late, and we have to work," he said, and I rolled my eyes. I still lived at home, but I felt like being an adult meant that I at least got to pick when I stopped watching TV at night. I'd had that right before I'd even turned 18. I wondered if my dad knew that I was lying and was just giving me an out so he didn't have to deal with it. We used to be able to talk.

Another way that things weren't quite right anymore.

I picked the phone back up and whispered into the receiver, "I have to go. My dad can hear me."

I heard her groan. "Fine."

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I know it's not your fault. I'll try to call some time this week, but I'll at least text by Sunday."

"Okay," I whispered.

"Tegan?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're so open, too,"she said. "The being...the being gay thing is hard enough to deal with. The sex I like is...it's not for everyone. It's sort of fucked up."

"You never cross lines. You fall over yourself apologizing when you're even a mile within the line. You've only started things twice. Once you asked, and once was the first time, where I gave you pretty much every indication that I wanted you to fuck me. I all but offered right before."

"Still-"

"Still nothing," I said. "It's not fucked up. It's different, but it's not fucked up. Don't call yourself fucked up."

I was pretty sure that I heard her start crying over the phone.

"I love you," she said on her end, only a slight waver in her voice, and I smiled.

"I love you, too."

"Can't wait to talk again. Goodnight, Tegan. Hope you have...amazing dreams."

It was amazing to me. Even when she was crying, she was flirting.

"You too, horndog. Sleep tight." I hung up the phone, knowing that if I let it go on too long, my dad would hear again. I thought about trying to get myself off, but I almost wanted to wait until I could do it with Sara. I didn't care if she touched herself. I couldn't help but imagine her touching herself, wishing that I'd just had a few more minutes on the phone...

My dreams were filled with Sara...tying me to the bed...running her nails up and down my torso...biting my inner thighs...slapping my ass...telling me over and over that she loved me...