Breaking Free

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Breaking Free Page 7

by Winter Page


  Clare cocked her head at me, an eyebrow rising in amusement. “You were actually planning on going tomorrow?”

  “I mean, it is school… so you kinda have to go,” I mumbled.

  She laughed freely, attracting the attention of the other people in the shop. But then, she was just that kind of girl. “Oh, c’mon, Rain. A little hooky never hurt anyone.”

  She winked mischievously, then added, “You’re such a goodie-two-shoes! School will be closed tomorrow, anyway. Do you not see the major ice storm brewing outside?”

  She flicked her fingers casually at the window and motioned for me to sit back down. I did so, shaking my head. Of course, I couldn’t tell when a winter storm was coming. I’d never seen one before.

  Clare leaned forward, a devilish smile playing over her full lips. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Weather always has a way of turning bad when I need it to. And right now, I feel some major winter badness brewing up in the sky. I’ll bet you anything it sleets for an hour or two this evening and then turns into the ice storm of the century. School will definitely be closed tomorrow… and Tuesday also.”

  The way she spoke quietly, just for my ears, it was like she and I were the only people in the world. Tension crackled into the air between us, charged with something. But I didn’t know what.

  I cleared my throat, and said a little more huskily than I would’ve liked, “What would you like to bet on that?”

  She closed her eyes and hummed a short, sweet note to herself. Yep, there was definitely something in the air. If it wasn’t crack cocaine, it was something equally heady and addictive.

  “How about dinner and a movie? My treat?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she blanched paper white.

  I leaned back as the tension snapped in two and broke abruptly. She didn’t say anything. Her eyes stared at something I couldn’t see, as if she was reliving a long ago memory.

  I frowned. “Clare? Are you okay?”

  Eventually, she shook her head like she was knocking cobwebs away. “Yeah. I’m fine.” But she didn’t sound fine. And she didn’t say another word.

  My brow creased in worry. “Hey, forget about dinner and everything.” I prayed my voice wouldn’t betray the pang of disappointment I felt in my gut.

  She shook her head again. “No, no, it’s good. I’ll call you.” She was in a hurry all of a sudden to stand up and gather her things.

  I picked up my laptop and shoved it in my bag. She turned in a rush toward the door and stopped suddenly. Into that frozen moment, I heard the sound of something harder than water splatting onto the asphalt outside. Son of a gun. Sleet.

  I tilted my head a little to study Clare quizzically. I swear, she looked like she’d seen a ghost. “Umm, Clare, I don’t think you have my phone number.”

  “Oh,” she murmured, as the spell that had held her transfixed broke. But her eyes were still fixated on something outside the coffee shop or maybe something inside her mind.

  Slowly, her head turned in my direction. A wooden smile plastered itself onto her face. “Let me get that from you, then.” Her voice was hollow.

  I took a step toward her and touched her forearm gingerly. “Clare. What’s wrong?”

  The smile slipped off of her face like an echo bouncing off her soul, fleeing farther and farther from her. “Nothing’s wrong,” she mumbled.

  She was lying.

  I snorted and promptly dragged her back down to sit with me. I clutched her forearm, begging with my eyes for her to confide in me. “Is it Brad? I swear to God, he’s not going to do anything else to you. So help me—”

  She cut me off. “It’s not Brad. Not exactly.” Her eyes were like glass and gave away absolutely nothing.

  “Tell me,” I pleaded.

  She flinched almost as if I had slapped her. “No. It’s not… it’s not something I can talk about. Not yet. Please, just respect that and drop it.”

  It dawned on me that I would never ever be able to push her for things. She had spent almost three years being knocked around by Brad. Who knew what kinds of things he had forced on her. I could never be like him, not to her. She deserved that, at least. I withdrew my hand from her arm immediately.

  “Of course, I respect that. I’ll back down. Sorry for intruding,” I said formally.

  She blew a piece of hair out of her face impatiently, her eyes finally deglazing a little. A smile flickered ironically on her lips as she murmured, “I said drop the subject, not me.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. She was back to her usual playful self. Although, she was definitely still distracted. Something unpleasant was definitely lurking in her mind, but she seemed to have come mostly back to the present.

  She squared her shoulders and pulled my hand back onto her forearm. Her expression was the epitome of smugness when she said. “So, about dinner tomorrow night, since I am never wrong about the weather.”

  I glanced outside, and sure enough, silvery ribbons of sleet were falling more thickly now.

  She continued, “There’s this great little Italian restaurant a couple of blocks from the movie theater. And because I’m a brat and I’ve seen way too many cheesy pictures online, we’re going to walk through the snow to see the movie. Oh, and just so you’re aware, I’ll be at your house at around ten o’clock tomorrow morning to bring you back here for a coffee. And then we’re going to a pizza parlor down the street for lunch and to talk all afternoon. And then we’ll go get dinner and a show. Got it?”

  I spluttered a little. “Umm, I’m going to get fat, Ms. Metabolism!” I put a mock-horrified hand over my mouth to cover my smile for dramatic effect.

  “Honey, when I date a girl, I want to date a girl. Not a girl trapped in a little boy’s body.”

  “Ohmigod. Did you just call me fat?” I exclaimed.

  Clare rolled her eyes. “Get over yourself. You’re gorgeous. See you tomorrow, Rain,” she said flippantly. She stood, flipping her hair over her shoulder, and I watched her go in amazement.

  Just as she got to the shop’s front door, a huge deluge of sleet hit the ground, crackling hollowly in the night. I saw her shudder, that blank, lost stare seeping into her eyes again. But then she shook it off and blew me a kiss.

  I sat, stunned, as the door closed behind her.

  I overheard an old man behind me mutter gruffly, “Damn. All the hot ones bat for the other team.”

  I had just taken a sip of my coffee when he said that, and I was very glad Clare had already left as latte spewed from my mouth.

  Yeah, all the hot ones bat for the other team. And then there was little derp me.

  Nine

  I SLEPT surprisingly well, despite my nerves jangling so forcefully that I literally thought I would shake out of bed. I didn’t know if the jitters had come from the coffee or the promise of what Monday would bring.

  At seven, my usual alarm went off. I blinked blearily for a moment, my nose chilled in the early morning air.

  Just as I was stretching, my mom walked in with a huge robe pulled tightly around her. She smiled brightly at me and announced, “Go back to sleep. A huge ice storm hit last night. No school today because the power lines to the high school were knocked down. See you later, Raimi.” She winked and left.

  I got up and shuffled to my window. I pulled back the heavy velvet curtains and stared out the frosted panes. Everything was shiny like it was covered in a thin layer of glass. I smiled so big I thought my cheeks would burst. Clare was right. I took a flying leap back into bed and set my alarm for nine. Plenty of time to get ready for her.

  I lay in bed, relishing that feeling of curling up under warm blankets when it’s absolutely freezing outside. But what really delighted me, even more than no school, was the thought of getting Clare to myself all day long.

  I BOUNDED down the stairs at exactly 9:59 a.m., right as our doorbell rang. Note to self: she was the punctual type. I threw the front door open, and Clare stood there shivering and grinning. Her white scarf tu
cked up around her chin made her flushed cheeks look even rosier. I smiled back.

  She gave my bundled-up body a once over and laughed. “You do know how to dress for the cold, don’t you?”

  I had on my warmest jeans, tucked into sheepskin-lined boots. Under my fur-lined, black, button-up jacket was a black cashmere turtleneck, and to top it off I had wrapped a black knit scarf around my neck.

  “What can I say? I’m from Texas! We don’t do cold.”

  She danced casually down my sidewalk while I had to carefully hobble over the ice. Which in turn made her laugh freely. Clare was completely at ease, her white bubble jacket hiding yet somehow showcasing her slim, athletic figure. How she could walk in those stiletto boots of hers, I had no idea. She was like a Barbie angel, and I was just me. Me in black.

  We got into her car, and for the second time, I sat in her passenger seat. Except this time, Clare wasn’t crying and I wasn’t trying to decide what to tell her and what was off the table.

  I still didn’t think I was ready to tell anyone about my gender transformation. Not even her. I comforted myself with the knowledge that she was holding things back from me, as well. Because that’s healthy. Boundaries are good.

  Clare distracted me from my heavy thoughts when she started fiddling with the radio just as we sped across an ice-encrusted bridge.

  I couldn’t help gasping. “Clare, if you could keep your eyes on the road when we go over icy bridges, that would be great for my blood pressure,” I choked out, clutching my door handle tightly.

  She laughed darkly. “Trust me. I’m not afraid of icy driving. If we’re meant to die, it’ll happen no matter how careful we are.” And on that wonderful note, she turned the radio to an old jazz and swing station.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Vintage?” I asked. “You?”

  She nodded, her lips inexplicably tight.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you. I just didn’t peg you for the type who liked jazz and swing music.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Rain,” she said huskily.

  I laughed rather shakily and turned away so that she wouldn’t see the monster blush that had crept across my face. This was going to be an interesting day. And I was going to love every minute of it.

  When we got to the coffee house, she was out of the car and had my door open before I could protest. I scowled up at her. “I’m not helpless, you know. I could’ve gotten that.”

  She flashed a smile at me and caught my arm as I slipped on the icy concrete of the parking lot. Laughing, she replied, “Oh, I’m sure you were perfectly capable. But in the meantime, I still want you unbroken and intact. Well, for right now, at least.” She winked, offering her arm.

  I scowled even deeper and stopped in my tracks. “What gives?”

  A delicate eyebrow arched reproachfully at my voice. “And by that you mean….” She trailed off, expecting me to fill in the blanks.

  I fidgeted with my black gloves. “Why are you so ready to be out of the closet all of a sudden?” I breathed out in a rush.

  She froze and dropped my arm. It took her a few seconds to recover from my question. Clare closed her eyes and took a deep gulp of the crisp air. “Because it’s not like I can exactly go back in. And besides, once you find someone to come out for, it’s not so hard.”

  I nodded slowly. That was a huge compliment she’d just given me, but…. “I… I’m not sure I’m ready to…. Well, at least not to the general public. I mean, you’re awesome, but I don’t think I can come out to everyone else. Not yet,” I mumbled.

  She nodded, her face filled with concern and empathy. “It’s okay, Rain. I get it. I was exactly like that with my first girlfriend. I’m not going to push you to PDA with me. I’m a big girl. I’m ready to be out, but I get that you’re not. I’ll be here for you until you are,” she said softly, a gust of wintry breeze blowing strands of golden hair across her face.

  In that moment, we could have been the only two people on earth. I smiled, tears biting at the edge of my eyes. “Thank you. And of course, I’ll be there for you at school. I think all of us have secrets we aren’t ready to talk about. I guess you just have to choose your battles.” I took a deep breath and added, “I’m not ashamed of being gay. I’m just scared of how people might react.”

  Her chilled, bare fingers brushed against my cheek, swiping away the tear that had made it halfway down my cheek. “No tears between us, okay? Of course, we all have secrets. And you shouldn’t be ashamed of yours. You’re perfect, Rain. Don’t you forget that. You’re perfect to me.” And with that, she leaned forward and kissed me.

  It wasn’t this magical, fireworks-playing-in-the-background kind of kiss. It was just a simple brush of her chapped lips against mine. My eyes widened in surprise. Okay, make that shock.

  It was just a goddamn kiss. And yet I knew that she meant it. I was happy. I was with her, and sparks were definitely flying between us. I smiled, and her turquoise eyes were alight as they looked into mine.

  “You know, you have the prettiest brown eyes of maybe anyone I ever met.”

  She didn’t say anything after that, just linked her arm in mine and helped me across the treacherous ice field that was the parking lot. There was a lot of giggling and teasing involved. Oh, and I made a complete dork of myself.

  When we finally got inside, it was deserted. Thankfully. Clare marched up to the counter and ordered the same coffee for me that I’d drunk yesterday, slapping down money for us both before I could even get my wallet out.

  I scowled again. “Would you stop it? I am a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man.”

  She laughed so hard that she actually snorted, to her rather adorable embarrassment. I laughed even harder, loving the little quirks I kept discovering about her. Like how she twirled her hair when she was thinking and put it in her mouth without chewing on it. When she was trying not to laugh, she bit her lip. And my personal favorite was how she raised a hand to cover her mouth when she blushed. Which seemed to happen mainly when I complimented her.

  We sat and talked for maybe an hour-and-a-half at the coffee shop. She talked all about her family. Her dad was a plastic surgeon and part-time pastor, and her mom was a valium-addicted, psychopathic housewife—her description, not mine. Apparently, having at least one screwed-up, dysfunctional parent was more common than I realized.

  She was the only child. There’d been a brother who died before she was born, and she thought of herself as the replacement kid to keep mom from going totally off the deep end. Which sucked pretty hard. But it had the upside of daddy’s disinterest, access to credit cards, and a complete lack of concern for her whereabouts.

  Clare did talk a little bit about why she hadn’t come out to her parents. Mainly the whole pastor thing, along with her aunt practically being disowned for being bi a number of years back….

  All in all, Clare was almost as screwed up as I was. I even went so far as to say that to her.

  “No way, hon. I got you topped,” she snorted.

  I raised an eyebrow, taking a careful sip of my coffee. “You underestimate me? Then you underestimate the twistedness of my upbringing,” I said.

  She put her elbows on the table, propping her head up, and studied me carefully. “Ever caught a parent on a substance-induced bender?” she quizzed.

  “Yep.”

  She studied me for a moment. “Ever tried to kill yourself?”

  Looks like she was going all-in on these questions. I squirmed a little in my chair.

  “It’s not something to be ashamed of. We all go through dark times, Rain. God knows I have,” she sighed, blowing a piece of hair out of her face and sipping slowly at her coffee.

  I shrugged. “I spent about six months in a seriously deep depression.”

  “Cut?” she asked quietly.

  I met her eyes for a split second before looking away. “Yeah,” I said, completely monotone.

  “Same here, hon,” she said casually, like we
were talking about the odd weather phenomenon going on around us.

  I really got the sense that she was seriously not going to judge me. And I prayed that she knew I wasn’t going to judge her either.

  She smiled slightly to herself, her lips barely tilting up. “Are you still a virgin?”

  I coughed, spewing coffee everywhere.

  Clare laughed musically and teased, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “You would be right,” I choked.

  She leaned forward. “I’ll tell you my first kiss if you’ll tell me yours,” she whispered secretively, even glancing around the room as if she was looking for anyone suspicious nearby who could hear.

  I laughed nervously. “Okay, sure. You start.”

  She smiled, her face in deep thought. “Brad Heartman. Underneath a tree in broad daylight when I was twelve. I remember he had been teasing me about my new shorts. See, I was really dorky before I got so outrageously hot.” She winked at me and continued, “But he was messing with me, saying my legs were so pale they were blinding him. I had gotten so upset with him that I ran away to hide under this tree and bawl my eyes out.” Clare smiled, obviously deep in her memories.

  “And when he got there and saw me crying, his face was absolutely priceless. He really had no idea how much he had hurt my little girl feelings. So he put his bike down and sat next to me, and before I could say anything, he leaned over and kissed me. It was really awkward, but it was really cute, too. I wonder if I should’ve known I was gay back then. I mean, I kinda did, but I wasn’t sure what all my feelings meant, and I definitely wasn’t going to say anything about my confusion to him. Not then, anyway.” Clare finished, her eyes zoning back in to present day.

  I sat there, awed, for a minute. It was just a small slice of her life, but it was an intimate and personal one. And she’d shared it with me.

  I smiled softly. “You know, you’re really beautiful when you don’t put up so many walls. I mean, you’re still gorgeous when you have them up, but you just shine when you’re vulnerable.”

 

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