by Zoe Lynne
By the time everyone in the house agreed on plans for the following day and went to bed, Cassidy still hadn’t shaken Brynn, or the way Brynn had reacted, from her system. She lay awake for hours, looking out the open window at the night sky, wondering for the millionth time why Brynn had taken off like a bat outta hell. She finally fell asleep with a clouded head and her wrist tucked tightly against her chest.
She awoke the same way too. The morning sun peered in past the sheer curtains, warming her face with its gentle rays. The aroma of toast and coffee lingered in the air, replacing the last, faint trace of Brynn’s scent from her room.
What did it mean when your last thoughts of the night and first thoughts of the day were of the same person? Nothing good, that much was sure. Not when said person didn’t feel the same way she did, nor did it appear that Brynn was even into playing for the same team she did. Talk about a whole other league. Brynn wasn’t just outside the league, she was in a whole different ballpark, playing a totally different game altogether… and that just made Cassidy want her even more. Chalk it up to her competitive nature and her determined attitude.
She finally let go of the wrist she’d been clinging to all night long and rose from the bed, ready to face a day without Brynn Michaels padding through her head.
That mentality lasted all of maybe two hours.
Her grandmother and mom decided to change their plans and head out to the beach instead, since the day was too beautiful to pass up the opportunity. It was just another cloudless, sunny day in California to Cassidy, but to the women, it was a chance to soak in the sun and ocean breeze. Of course, she couldn’t talk her way out of the beach. She tried, though. It didn’t work and she now sat on the sand, clad in her white and black polka dot bikini and staring out at the shoreline in a daze.
A group of pretty girls gathered nearby—five of them, all perfectly tanned and sculpted in designer bikinis—four blondes and a ginger. They caught Cassidy’s attention not because they were pretty, nor because their swimsuits were killer, but because the ginger chick sat sort of on the outside of the group of blondes. Even though they appeared to all be friends, the redhead didn’t participate as actively in the conversation the others were engaged in. Her bikini was cut a different way—not the standard Brazilian style the others had, but a more covering bottom piece and a top with a flattering empire cut. The way she tucked her shoulder-length crimson hair behind one ear reminded Cassidy of Brynn. Hell, her whole demeanor was all Brynn.
Cassidy wanted to go and talk to her. She could always use a new friend, right? Exactly.
Excusing herself from her present company, she padded through the warm sand toward the group of girls. The four blondes all rose, almost synchronously, and headed toward the water before she even made it to the edge of their towels. The ginger, however, remained behind and smiled warmly up at her when Cassidy offered a friendly “Hello.”
“Hi,” the ginger replied, still smiling.
“I was sitting over there and noticed your bathing suit. It’s great.”
“Oh, thanks. I got it at Ross for twenty bucks. It’s a Vivienne Westwood.”
Was that right? What the heck was Ross and why hadn’t Cassidy ever been there? A designer bathing suit for twenty dollars! What had she been missing? The surprised look on her face must have amused the ginger, because a giggle bubbled up past her lips, and she extended an arm. “I’m Natasha.”
Cassidy reached down and placed her dainty palm in Natasha’s hand, smiling from ear to ear suddenly. “That’s a beautiful name. I’m Cassidy. Nice to meet you.”
“Ditto.”
Before Cassidy could get any further in conversation, one of the blondes called her newfound friend into the water, and Natasha politely excused herself. “My girlfriend apparently wants me to go swim or play chicken—” She giggled. Again. “But check out Ross whenever you get a chance.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
Natasha rose from her spot on the towel and ran off, kicking up sand as she crossed the beach before splashing into the water, leaving Cassidy to return to her mother and grandmother whom were in a deep discussion about the president. Cassidy knew that particular conversation would last quite some time since her grandmother was a die-hard Republican and her mother was the poster child for Democrats. At least it kept her mind off Brynn.
That was, until she thought about not thinking about Brynn, which led her to thinking about Brynn again. Which she did for the remainder of her stay at the beach, their stop at a Mexican place to eat dinner, all through the drive home, and well into the night as they pulled into the driveway, then through her shower, and as she got ready for bed.
This was becoming a pattern, it seemed. Going to bed with thoughts of Brynn darting out the door with no rhyme or reason, followed by feelings of insecurity and self-doubt, and finally, back to Brynn with more unanswered questions.
The worst part was that she couldn’t even confront Brynn about why she’d booked it. Actually, she could ask Brynn, but she wouldn’t out of fear of the answer. It was one thing to think you were a freak for liking girls; it was a-whole-nother to hear it said out loud by the one girl you had somehow begun to fall for.
And round and round her thoughts went until she resolved to remove Brynn from her head and try to get some sleep, knowing full well she dreaded facing the girl tomorrow more than she dreaded being outed at school.
Chapter 11
THE alarm clock wailed the most horrendous, biting sound and ripped Brynn from her sleep. She swatted at the thing, sending it flying off her nightstand and bouncing down to the floor. This was going to end up being the worst Monday ever. She could already feel it in the pit of her gut. Not only had she managed to get about two hours of sleep for all her internal panicking, but she also had to face Cassidy Rivers again—the reason for her internal panicking.
Groaning, Brynn rolled out of the bed. Her black fuzzy socks contrasted the light-gray carpeted floor. She kept staring down, only occasionally attempting to blink the sleep from her eyes. Yes, she absolutely was procrastinating, only because she didn’t know what seeing Cassidy again would do to her.
Jeez, maybe she could suddenly become deathly ill and “call in sick” like her parents did when they didn’t want to go to work. Wait. No. She couldn’t. There was a stupid history quiz today.
Sighing, Brynn pushed up from the bed and went over to her closet. She grabbed a pair of black skinny jeans and a black hoodie, a black T-shirt, and her black Converse. Maybe if she looked like a shadow and hid beneath the cover of a hooded sweatshirt, Cassidy wouldn’t notice her and wouldn’t demand to know why she’d hightailed it out of the house. After all, it wasn’t like she could tell Cassidy how she’d been picturing them in that movie instead of Neve and Denise.
After pulling her jeans up her short, skinny legs and the T-shirt and hoodie over her head, she slipped her feet into her shoes, then hurried down to the bathroom. The minutes were dwindling, and her stubborn reluctance to leave her bed had cost her precious moments in front of the mirror. Thankfully, her hair was still a bit damp from the shower last night, so she could brush it board straight without using the flatiron. Didn’t matter really, though, since she fully intended to keep her entire head hidden under her hoodie.
“I’m gone, Mom,” she called from the base of the stairs as she grabbed her backpack from the spot she’d dropped it Saturday evening.
Crazy thing was, she’d gone all weekend without touching her laptop. In fact, she hadn’t even bothered with her phone—something that was normally glued to her hand at all times. Not this time. She spent Sunday hiding in the bed, beneath layers of covers so no one would bother her, all the while thinking about Cassidy and how she’d had the urge to kiss the cheerleader. Not once, but many, many times. That revelation scared the hell out of her and confused her. Did her desire to kiss Cassidy make her a lesbian?
Shaking off the thought as best as she could, she climbed into her car, eased out of the drive
way, rounded the cul-de-sac, and headed out of her neighborhood. She tried not to stare as she passed the Riverses’ house, tried not to wonder what Cassidy thought of her now.
The drive to school didn’t take long at all. In fact, it didn’t give Brynn a whole lot of time to think about anything, which was both good and bad. She didn’t have a lot of time to stress over the unwavering need to taste Cassidy’s lips or the unnerving uncertainty of facing the cheerleader for the first time. Would she blurt her feelings out because she always had those foot-in-mouth moments when she got nervous? Or would she be too afraid to utter the first word?
When Brynn pulled into the school’s parking lot, the place was pretty much deserted. Brynn couldn’t have been more relieved. She just knew she would be able to sneak into the library and wait out the thirty minutes to go before the bell rang. But the moment she climbed out of her car, grabbed her backpack from the passenger seat, and spun back around toward the school, Cassidy’s sporty silver Scion wheeled in beside her. The sight of it stole Brynn’s breath away. And when Cassidy popped up from the driver’s side, Brynn instinctually lowered her head.
“I brought your shoes,” Cassidy said, without a “Good morning” or even a hello. She rounded the back of her car, reached into her Dolce & Gabbana backpack, and pulled Brynn’s Mary Janes out but didn’t hand them to her. She just stood there, sort of hanging onto the shoes.
“Sorry for leaving them,” Brynn responded, closing the distance between them. She reached out to grab her shoes, intent on doing it very quickly, but the moment her fingers grazed Cassidy’s, Brynn froze. A gasp left her lips, and her eyes widened. She tried to swallow the new knot in her throat and couldn’t. Nor could she bring herself to let go.
“Yeah, I get it. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again. I’d hate to make you rush out of my room because you’re too homophobic to deal with a little chick-on-chick action.”
“I’m not a homophobe!”
“Right. And I’m not blonde.”
“Really, I’m not,” Brynn’s voice softened as she lowered her head. “That’s, um… not why I left.”
“You don’t have to make excuses. It is what it is, I guess.”
“You don’t understand. You… you just… I….”
“No, you’re right. I don’t understand, so why don’t you explain why you left like that?”
Brynn tucked her Mary Janes tight against her chest, hugging them to her body. The trembling in her hands became obvious. The knot in her throat tightened, and if her heart pounded any harder she swore it would explode in her chest.
“Cassidy,” she whispered, fighting to raise her head and look the object of her newfound affection in the eyes. How in the hell was she supposed to admit how she felt? “I… I… I’m scared.”
“Oh, so I scare you now? Thanks, Brynn.” Cassidy turned on her heels and began to stalk away, blonde tresses flowing behind her like a platinum cape.
“Not you!” Brynn cried out in desperation. “I’m scared of me….”
Cassidy remained oblivious, walking farther away.
Tears began to brew in Brynn’s eyes. She didn’t know what to say to Cassidy to make her understand. Honestly, she didn’t understand herself. One thing was certain; she hated watching Cassidy walk away from her like that. And as bad as she wanted to run after her, she didn’t trust her legs not to send her tumbling to the ground.
Chapter 12
FIRST, second, third, and fourth periods all went by in one single, monotonous string of nothingness. By the time lunch rolled around, Cassidy had given up on trying to pay attention to her classes, friends, or even the music pouring through her earphones. She sat at her usual table, surrounded by the usual friends—cheerleaders, a few other A-list chicks who shared as close to her status as they could, and a couple of varsity football players who always hung out with the girls because they dated two of them.
The conversation was as it always was—other people. Who wore what, who dated who, who had been seen over the weekend doing stuff they’d never be caught doing, blah blah blah. She turned Mazzy Star up as loud as her iPod would go and kept picking at her chicken apple salad, attempting to completely drown out even the faintest hints of the chatter going on around her.
She was too busy looking around for Brynn to answer whatever dumb question Jenna had just asked her. Her little pink-headed fantasy was nowhere to be found. Brynn’s weirdo friend, Laura, sat off to a side, purple head tucked behind a book. She was probably none too happy about being left alone to suffer the awkwardness of socializing. Heaven forbid she get up and talk to someone.
It dawned on her that not too long ago at all, she’d regarded Brynn with the same attitude. Just two days ago, as a matter of fact, she had walked by the same table where Laura now sat, barely acknowledging Brynn Michaels because she was just another freak. And now she was ready to all but scour the school for the girl.
Oh, how the mighty had fallen.
Somehow she managed to finish lunch without having to talk to anyone. Not that her friends hadn’t noticed there was something wrong with her, but they weren’t the type to ask. More than likely because they really didn’t care; they just wanted the gossip. Since Cassidy wasn’t offering any ante, they probably figured it wasn’t worth their time to pry, so she made it to her fifth period economics class without anyone in her face.
It was actually rather peaceful. She kinda liked being alone, but it wouldn’t last. It never did.
That point was painfully proven by the time she got to her locker after acing her economics pop quiz. Jenna came bounding over, bleached blonde hair bouncing around her cardigan. “So… you gonna tell me why you’re so quiet?”
“Nope.”
“Cassidy, what’s wrong? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
Yeah, so you can go tell the rest of the school, right? “I’m fine.” She couldn’t pull her books out of her locker fast enough.
Jenna huffed, clearly agitated by Cassidy’s lack of speech. “But Cassidy—”
“Just stop, okay? Leave me alone. I’m fine.” The red, metal door of Cassidy’s locker slammed shut, the sound accentuating the end of her sentence. Jenna finally got the message. Or so she hoped. Either way, she wasn’t about to stand around a moment longer. “I’ll catch you at practice,” Cassidy mumbled before trudging off down the long hallway to Mrs. Miller’s classroom.
Reaching the door, she greeted the teacher, who stood to the side, posted like one of those weird British soldiers with the fuzzy hats who didn’t move.
Cassidy made her way inside and intended on heading toward the back to her usual desk. Yeah, that’s what she should have done. Instead, she saw the desk beside Brynn’s empty, and for one reason or another, which she might never comprehend, she plopped into the seat and set her backpack down on the floor at her feet. When she looked up, not only was Brynn staring at her wide-eyed, but Laura had ambled into the classroom and was shooting daggers at her with those freaky zombie-type contact lenses she insisted on wearing, because obviously, she didn’t think she looked enough like a whack job already.
Cassidy smiled oh-so-sweetly in return. Laura seethed, and Brynn’s eyes widened even more as she sank down into her seat. For a moment there, she had been so wrapped up in what was going on with Brynn, she’d forgotten she could totally use her bitch card, which she happily waved in the air at Laura.
The freak growled at her as she passed her by, opting to take another seat instead of fighting Cassidy for the one she’d claimed for the day. “Relax, spaz. You can have your seat back tomorrow. No need to growl like a dog.”
Brynn didn’t look at all too happy with her choice of words toward her friend, but Cassidy had had all she could handle of Brynn’s rejection for one day. Locking her gaze with Brynn’s, she whispered softly enough so Brynn could hear, but the rest of the kids couldn’t. “What did you mean this morning?”
“Is this really a good time to have this conversation?” Brynn w
hispered back, keeping her eyes straight ahead.
“I don’t see why not. It’s not like we’re talking about drugs or illegal crap. It was a movie, for the love of all things holy.”
“I shouldn’t have been watching it.”
“Shouldn’t have or didn’t want to?”
“Shouldn’t have.” Brynn finally looked over, meeting Cassidy’s stare with an intensity she’d never seen from the shy emo girl before. “It made me think about… things, okay?”
“And whatever you thought about made you bolt from my house without so much as a good-bye or an explanation?” Cassidy’s pale brows shot up as Brynn’s cheeks turned a bright shade of crimson.
Oh. Is she trying to say what I think she’s trying to say?
Cassidy shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable with the uncertainty of the moment. God, it was like pulling teeth with this chick. Why couldn’t Brynn just say what was on her mind instead of making her play the guessing game? What if she got it wrong? Read the signals wrong? That would end in even more embarrassment, and she couldn’t have that, so she leaned in even more and whispered, “I think I get it, but can you kindly elaborate?”
“Cassidy….”
Brynn chewed the inside of her cheek and averted her eyes again. Her chest rose and fell a little too quickly. Her cheeks flushed brighter red. She opened her mouth to speak, and Cassidy hung onto the moment, but the moment was foiled by Mrs. Miller calling the class to attention.
“Later… please,” Brynn breathed without looking over.
And just like that, Cassidy was right back to wondering what the hell had happened.
To make matters worse, she was seated at the front of the class for the remainder of the period, which subjected her to Mrs. Miller’s annoying, nasal voice as she read through not one, not two, but three chapters in a book. To add insult to that injury, she threw in a little quiz at the end for good measure. It would have been torturous save for the little moments when Cassidy would catch Brynn stealing glances at her through that ever-present part in her bangs.