by Lily Craig
"Thank you," said Madelyn. Her words shook, vibrating with sadness. Georgie ushered her into the living room and guided her to the couch. So many nights had been spent watching Jeopardy here, talking about life and plans and wondering where the future might take them. Georgie had lived in this dump for five years now.
It was only six blocks away from Madelyn's apartment.
"Do I need to punch a guy? Mark hurt you?" ventured Georgie.
Normally the tough-as-nails bravado made Madelyn laugh, but she exhaled with a ragged, sad noise. "No, no. Nothing like that." Georgie’s gut screamed for her to hug her, hold her.
"Good. Cause I'd pulverize him. I think he knows that, too."
Madelyn's weak smile faltered as soon as it appeared on her face.
The silence that followed ached with so many feelings, Georgie found herself clearing her throat to make it stop hurting. Her eyes prickled with the threat of tears; the sight of Madelyn so devastated was unbelievably painful.
"Mads?"
Madelyn sighed, deeply, and scratched at the label of the beer bottle. Her chipped nail polish made Georgie warm internally at the way Madelyn's ever-the-whirlwind life showed up in small details.
"Mark and I broke up," she said. Madelyn's voice intoned the last part of the sentence with a rising sound, as if she were asking Georgie whether it had happened rather than telling her. But the truth remained.
Small, staccato heartbeats echoed in Georgie's chest, more noticeable than before Madelyn spoke. It was irrational, she knew that. But Madelyn and Mark had been together for years now. She hated to see her friend sad, of course, but the deep-seated emotional core of Georgie also secretly rejoiced.
"I'm sorry," she said. It wasn't enough, and she knew it. But how could she fully express that she didn't want Madelyn to hurt, and yet also didn't think Mark was good enough for her?
No man was.
Somehow, they never saw Madelyn the right way, the way where her light shone brightly because of some internal compass, not something that existed just for them. Madelyn's boyfriends were always too willing to experience her, not eager enough to reciprocate her joy.
She deserved so much more. Maybe now, finally, Madelyn could have a chance at the expansive, all-consuming love she yearned for. Georgie sat, armpits hinting nervous sweat, wishing she didn't want to be that all-consuming love. She felt it anyway.
"That's part of it," Madelyn said. Her voice was practically a whisper. It drew Georgie closer and she found her breath hitching at the proximity. From here, she could see the delicate movements of Madelyn's throat as she swallowed a sip of beer. Could watch Madelyn’s heartbeat in that soft, smooth skin.
Snap out of it, Georgie. Your friend needs help, not lust.
"What else is going on?" Georgie said. It seemed obvious to her that her voice was strangled with feeling, but Madelyn didn't look up. Didn't flinch.
"Georgie," said Madelyn, turning her head to look Georgie straight in the eye. It was arresting, as it always was: the clarity of her pupils, startling and stunning. Lips curved like she was about to whistle. Cheeks stained with since-dried tears and flushed with half-dissipated feeling.
"Yeah?"
"Promise you won't judge me?"
Georgie had never taken any promise more seriously. "Of course not. Want to pinky swear?"
Madelyn smiled, a small, faltering smile. It was brighter than the sun to Georgie. "No, I'm good. I just..."
This silence was warmer. Though Madelyn's pain still shone from her curled-up posture, the mere act of being together seemed to ease the worst of it. Georgie pulled her feet underneath herself and tried to remember active listening skills.
"Anything you tell me, I will always, always care. No judgments here. Right? We've known each other too long. Too well."
"Thanks," said Madelyn. She smiled down at her beer bottle and then drank a bigger gulp. "So I think I'm gay."
Stars burst in Georgie's eyes and she felt a whine begin deep in the lowest part of her skull. The pin-prick hint of sweat beneath her arms began to trickle. "What?"
It was such an inadequate thing to say.
‘What?’—like she hadn't heard.
Hadn't fantasized about this very moment for how long?
And now Georgie was paralyzed, unable to help her friend because her mind had begun to race, her body was thrown into an immediate frenzy of desperate, self-centered hope. While she should have been focused on how to be supportive, Georgie's long-held crush reared its head.
"Like, I like girls? Not boys. Or more than boys, I'm not sure. Maybe I won't ever know for certain, but what I do know is I don't love Mark. Or, I love him, but I'm not in love with him."
"That's... a lot." Georgie stared at Madelyn, and when she realized she'd been staring, she flushed beet red and redirected her gaze to her own hands. They were a little pink, too. Like every part of her was overloaded with blood, racing around completely maniacally from this shock.
Welcome though it might be, it was still a shock.
"I know. And I don't know what to do. This is, like, shit you're supposed to figure out in high school, right? You've always known so clearly who you are and what you want. Why can't I have that?"
Madelyn's voice faltered and tears sprang to her eyes, spilling readily down those soft cheeks.
"It's ok to be upset," said Georgie.
"I don't want to be, though."
"Right. But even if you're upset, you should know something. Maybe it looked easy on the outside, to you, but for me, coming out wasn't obvious. So don't beat yourself up about it."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Don't you remember how terrified I was?"
"You always look so cool, no matter what you're doing."
Georgie laughed and didn't fight the puff of pride she felt hearing that compliment. It came from such a lovely source.
"Maybe I looked like I wasn't panicked, but I swear to you that I was. It felt like my world was ending, and I'd lose everything I cared about."
"I do care about Mark, that's part of what sucks about this."
Georgie shuffled closer on the couch, resting a hand on Madelyn's forearm. "You do. Living together and sharing a life together still means something. But caring about him and being in love with him can be separate things. And if you care about him, it makes sense not to stay together if you don't love him that way."
"Is it terrible if part of why I broke up with him was to start dating again, though? I want to see what my life could be like, you know, honestly."
Laughter burst out of Georgie. "If you're looking to get shit for wanting to date girls, you've come to the wrong place."
Madelyn sighed again. "No, this is exactly where I needed to be. Thanks Georgie."
In between each sentence, Georgie tried to walk back from the dizzying ledge she'd come to in her mind. If there had been any sign whatsoever that Madelyn felt romantically inclined towards her, Georgie would have thrown herself into it. She'd worked hard to repress her feelings for Madelyn only to have her run over and give her a sign.
Hope didn't have to mean delusion.
There had never been a better chance for them than now.
Georgie knew she was thinking unrealistically. But her heart didn't care.
"And don't think you need to have it all figured out. You've got time. I mean, for fuck's sake, you're only 24. Don't act like your life is over. There’s plenty of time for dating."
With a final swig, Madelyn finished her beer and set it on the coffee table next to Georgie's stacks of half-read comic books. "You're right. So much time. It'll take some time to get over Mark, but I can throw myself into my research in the meantime. Set my Tinder up again and change the settings. When I say that out loud it actually sounds super fun."
"Don't rush, though," said Georgie. Her words appeared to be in vain, because Madelyn took her phone out and opened the App store.
"I swear to god, I think I've forgotten every password I've ever created."
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Panic rose in Georgie's gut, watching Madelyn sign into Tinder and change her preferences to women. It was too soon, too late at night. Too focused on something shallow and meaningless when she should have been getting the logistics sorted of where she'd live if she wouldn't be with Mark.
Underneath those rational concerns, Georgie also felt snubbed. Of all the queer women Madelyn knew, shouldn't she be turning to Georgie for advice the most? For a night on the town, a chance at meeting people in real life, or maybe... noticing there was someone right there who'd been there all along.
"It's getting late," Georgie said quietly. She rubbed Madelyn's shoulder to bring her out of her excitement.
"Guess so. Oh man, this is going to be fun! Look at her," said Madelyn. She showed her phone to Georgie, revealing a picture of some femme-y blonde with a nose ring and cat eye liner that was so sharp it could cut flesh. "Do you think she'd like me?"
Georgie didn't want to be doing this. Her ears might have stopped ringing, but now a new, internal alarm was going off. It was wrong. It was all wrong, and Madelyn didn't see how wrong it was.
"Anyone who doesn't like you isn't worth your time," she said. Trying to keep the emotion out of her voice, fighting to rein in the way her heart longed for her to spill everything, right now. Lay it on the table and make the case for herself as a candidate.
"Technically true, but I was looking for something more like 'Of course! You're so cute anyone would like you!'" Madelyn said, batting her eyelashes playfully at Georgie. The resulting hammering in Georgie's chest distracted her from her goals.
"Madelyn, you're stunning. And you're a beautiful person underneath the surface, too. When you're ready to date, you'll be a catch."
"Why thank you!" cooed Madelyn, batting at Georgie's arm flirtatiously. She laughed and then came closer, each step making Georgie short circuit just a little more.
This wasn't happening.
Not like this.
She couldn't be Madelyn's rebound. Touching her, getting to be part of her life in that way would be incredible, but Georgie was in it for the long haul. The real shit.
"Uh, Mads—" she said, trying her best to politely rebuff the flirtation, stiffening her posture and raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, don't worry, Georgie. I'm joking—I would never date you!"
It spilled out of Madelyn's mouth so easily. Such harmful words spoken so sweetly, so lightly. Georgie fought the urge to gasp and double over in pain.
"Mm," she mumbled, all her energy now focused on preserving essential functions. She could barely breathe, let alone speak English.
Never!
Never?
Never.
Georgie had thought she'd been through every emotion that Madelyn could prompt in her already. She'd thought the lows she'd experienced were over, a high school remnant of pain long since processed and filed away under 'coming of age queer in a straight-majority environment.'
Nothing could have prepared her for this.
"I'll figure it out," Madelyn murmured to herself. If Georgie wasn't mistaken, she sounded tipsy. Maybe she'd had something to drink before coming over. Maybe that beer had been the final piece of a heartbroken puzzle.
Maybe none of that fucking mattered, because what Madelyn had just said cut worse than anything Georgie could have expected to hear from her, ever.
There was no better way to devastate Georgie.
"I think it's time for bed," Georgie managed to say, her eyes unable to meet Madelyn's.
Whatever Madelyn said in response, it didn't reach Georgie's brain, which still whirred with the obsessive, self-harming focus on how Madelyn had so casually destroyed Georgie's longest running hope, misguided as it may have been.
She set up the couch with a pillow and blankets and then steered Madelyn to the bedroom.
"I couldn't! That’s your bed. I’ll take the couch," she protested, but when Georgie turned and walked away, it must have been enough to finalize the matter. Georgie sank onto the couch and slept fitfully, her every dream poisoned by having reality slapped squarely across her face.
She had spent a lifetime waiting around for Madelyn to be who Georgie wanted her to be, but no amount of insane self-deception could justify waiting any more. If Madelyn was queer and still didn't want Georgie, it was time for a change.
Georgie couldn't do this anymore, and when she woke in the morning, it was clear that she needed space. Real, enforced space. Something that would require her to stop talking to Madelyn so much, to stop expecting so much from her, when her feelings were obviously never going to be reciprocated.
It was time for Georgie to get over her.
A few weeks later, Georgie’s sister Ariel helped load the contents of her sparsely furnished apartment into her beaten-up pickup truck. Rather than face the friends who knew Madelyn and Georgie both, Georgie found herself wishing for familial comfort, support from a person who was more clearly on her side.
With the packages loaded onto the back of her truck, Georgie closed the tailgate and turned to her sister.
“Thanks for showing up for me, Ariel,” she said. Tears wavered on the brink of spilling, surprising Georgie and Ariel both.
“Take care of yourself, Georgie,” said Ariel. She drew Georgie into an affectionate hug, and Georgie let herself cry onto the soft pink sweater, knowing that all forms of comfort would soon seem very far away indeed.
17
Present Day
Madelyn's phone history now showed call after outgoing call to Georgie. None where Georgie picked up, but Madelyn was still hopeful. With all the text messages she’d sent Georgie's way, there was nothing more Madelyn could do except wait.
First, she waited at the Mediclinic, where they informed her, after a couple hours and several x-rays, that she’d merely sprained her ankle and ought to rest it. Then she went home and sat in front of her phone, willing it to buzz with Georgie’s response. When none came, Madelyn threw herself into distraction.
She took the opportunity to finally work on the revisions to her paper. Better late than never. It had seemed before like there were so many that she'd never finish them, but with a full night's sleep and the exercise of going through Georgie memories under her belt, Madelyn felt more optimistic than she had in weeks, maybe months.
Madelyn addressed one comment at a time, starting with the easiest suggestion. This reviewer preferred British spelling for several of the words Madelyn had unwittingly Americanized. That was simple to find and replace. With a little more confidence built having completed those edits, Madelyn tucked into the more substantive critiques.
Before long, her paper began to look much better. At least, she thought so. Albertan women's wartime contributions would now have a new voice. But working made Madelyn hungry, so she ordered a pizza and chopped carrot sticks in the meantime.
When the buzzer went off, Madelyn's stomach growled in anticipation and she let the delivery guy in. Soon, a firm hand knocked at her apartment door. When she opened the door, debit card in hand, she jumped.
"Georgie?"
She stood there, pizza box in hand and a sheepish expression on her face. The denim jacket over her old high school t-shirt fit in a way that emphasized her shoulders, and she slouched to one side, hip extended, like she might run off instead of staying until Madelyn found words to speak.
"Hey, uh. Ran into the pizza guy on the way here and I paid for it instead."
"Thanks. Oh my god. Come in," Madelyn said. She was shaking from surprise and perhaps a little anxiety. "Did you drive here today? I've been calling you."
"I know," said Georgie. She put the pizza down and sat on the footstool near Madelyn's desk. "I wasn't ready to talk yet."
"But you were ok with driving for hours without even checking if I was home?"
"Let's be real, Madelyn. I knew you'd either be here or the library."
Madelyn laughed despite herself and then frowned as if retaliating against her own renegade feelings. "I could have been sta
ying with my parents, or friends.”
"Nope. Checked with everyone. Not that that was easy, mind you."
"I thought you were mad at Hannah and Nadia?”
Georgie sighed and grabbed a slice of pizza out of the box. "Yeah. I said a bunch of nasty things to them in my head on the drive home from Banff. But it turns out the person I was the angriest at was myself."
"Deep," said Madelyn, winking at Georgie, who wasn't normally the kind of person to speak like this.
"I'm serious, Mads."
Madelyn stopped smiling and tried, instead, to focus on Georgie with her every breath. This was important.
"It's fucking embarrassing to think that everyone talked about how I was into you. If they'd had a bet going, thought we'd hook up or end up together, it drove me crazy. I owe you an apology because I didn't mean to storm out like that, but by the time I cooled down I was hours away on a shitty highway. Icy."
"I'm glad you didn't risk your life to come back. With me, it can wait. You know that, right? It can always wait. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere." Madelyn moved so that she could sit next to Georgie. The radiant energy of Georgie's body pulled her closer. Barring their time at the cabin, it had been almost a year since they'd been able to be in the same room.
It felt good.
"You say that now, but I've spent years convinced that if you knew how I felt about you, you'd run. It never occurred to me that everyone in our friend circle could tell that was how I felt. Fuckin' sucks, you know? You think you're guarding this precious secret and then they all laugh about it the moment it's out."
"I didn't laugh," said Madelyn.
"I know," Georgie sighed. "Thanks for that."
A moment passed. Madelyn wasn't sure where to dig in, but Georgie began talking again.
"I have loved you since as long as I've known how to love, Madelyn. Longer than I was aware of, longer than any relationship I've had with any girlfriend. That's scary as fuck."
Madelyn's stomach tightened and quivered at Georgie's words; she had prepared herself for the absolute worst yesterday, that their friendship would be over and done with. Nothing could have made Madelyn ready for this.