The bus drops us off in front of the mall, or at least in front of the west side, as opposed to the other three sides of the large box with their own entrances. The bus ride itself isn’t noteworthy, just Rachel starting off nervous and slowly relaxing. Now that we’re off said bus, she’s back to looking around warily. “You ready to go in?”

Rachel snaps her face towards me, speaking barely above a whisper: “Can we wait here for a bit longer please?”

I grab and squeeze her hand. “Hey, Rachel. You’re gonna be fine.”

Her fearful gaze melts after I begin speaking, and she nods and starts walking inside, not letting go of my hand. I follow along, a little worried. The contact seems to be giving Rachel strength, but what if people assume we’re a couple again because of it. I’m really sick of people assuming that just because we’re a boy and a girl--

But that’s not what people see right now, is it? They see two girls holding hands. That’s pretty common. Even if they do assume we’re a couple, at least now they’re not also assuming I’m straight, so it’s still a little less annoying. In fact, that feels kind of nice? I mean, not the idea of dating Rachel, just being visible with who I am.

Maybe I should start wearing a lesbian flag as a cape.

While I’m thinking about not just coming out of the closet, but bursting out on a skateboard with rockets strapped to it, Rachel’s leading me through the mall before stopping at a fountain. “We promised to meet up here, but there’s ten minutes left and the others aren’t here yet. Should we stick around? What if I got the day wrong?”

“You didn’t get the day wrong, you doof. They’ll be here in a few minutes.” I snicker. Getting the day wrong, come on. In all our years of friendship I don’t think she’s ever been late for anything. Of course, for this, she’s been extra super distracted and excited, so if it was going to happen, it’d be now. And I haven’t seen the plans, so I have no way to check. Oh no. “But what if you did get the date wrong?” I ask worriedly.

“Oh no! Uhm, I can check on my phone!” She takes off her backpack and fishes for her phone. “I swear to -- It’s been an hour and I’m already sick of not having pockets. How do you all survive?”

I gesture to my handbag and shrug. “It’s really not so bad. Besides, not all girl clothes lack pockets, just most. Pretty sure that coat has some, actually.”

She feels in the pockets. “Okay, yeah, but these are still pretty small. I don’t think my phone would fit.” She tries to put the phone into the pockets, but the top sticks out. Annoyed, she takes it out and tries her other pocket. Then she tries it sideways, which super obviously isn’t going to work. I laugh a little, which seems to attract the attention of two approaching people.

“Are you two here for the meetup?” asks the smaller of the two, a pear-shaped smiling girl wearing a white blouse and pleated light blue skirt that reaches her ankles. Next to her is a walking Hot Topic, who despite slouching is still at least easily six feet. The two look a few years older than us, and I’ve never been that good at guessing ages, but I’d say they’re probably starting university. Either soon, or not too long ago. Well, it’s spring, so probably a while ago, but still. Not many years. Unless I’m wrong, which I could be.

The tall goth one looks down at us, although I don’t think she has much choice. “You think these two are coming to your thing? They’re like, thirteen.”

“We’re fifteen,” I mumble, “not thirteen.” It’s not our fault that we’re short.

The cheerful-looking one scowls ineffectively at her friend. “It’s a teen writing group! Of course they could be!”

“Why are you in a teen writing group?” asks the tall one. “You’re not really a teen anymore.”

“I’m nineteen! That’s still a teen!” She stomps her foot theatrically, then drops the facade of anger and resumes her smiling. “Besides, I’ve mostly shifted to offering advice, I post my own stories elsewhere.” She turns back toward us. “In any case, you two are here for that, right?” I nod and elbow Rachel, who also nods. “Great! I’m Ella and this is Day!”

“It’s Desiree,” interrupts her friend, “only she gets away with calling me Day.”

Rachel doesn’t respond for a moment, so I step in. “I’m Lynne, and this is Rachel. She’s the one who writes, I just came along to make sure she’s safe.” Well, that and to lend her some clothes, but I could have left after that, theoretically speaking.

Ella looks over at my companion. “Oh, you’re Rachel! I loved ‘Sweeter than Honey’! That was you, right?”

Rachel looks down and nods. “It was fun to write. Helped me work through a few feelings, too.”

Ella nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’ve written ones like that. Chin up, okay? I don’t know your parents, but if you fear their reaction you don’t have to tell them you’re a lesbian.”

Rachel goes pink and flails her arms wildly. “Wait! I’m not -- Uhm! I’m --” she rambles, clearly not sure how to correct the wrong assumption without giving too much away. She’s missing a bit of an obvious solution, so I jump in to help.

“She’s bi, actually.”

Ella blinks, looking a bit embarrassed. “Oh. I mean, that’s totally cool too, obviously. I just figured that since you wrote that one, you’d be… yeah.”

Desiree raises an eyebrow at my interjection, but doesn’t press it. Thank goodness. Rachel softly says something about how she thought about making the main character bi, but didn’t want to complicate the story, and Ella responds talking about how a few lines could have established the trait without making it a big distracting focus, and how it’s her story anyway.

With the two writers talking about story stuff, I look at Desiree. She’s tall and dressed in all black, but maybe my earlier mental ‘Hot Topic’ zinger wasn’t fair. She’s dressed goth, but more of a classical goth look than the scene stuff Hot Topic sells. Her makeup looks good, though, assuming she’s looking that pale on purpose, even if it makes her face a bit bony overall.

While I’m looking at her, she starts talking. “So you’re Rachel’s friend?”

“Yes? Why do you ask?”

“Nothing, really. She just reminds me of myself a few years back in some ways.”

I’m sceptical. “You don’t think she’s going to go goth, do you?”

Desiree laughs. “Ha! No, I don’t think so. Or, well, she could, but that’s not what I meant. Not that I dress like this myself, most days. Way too much work, and summers are unbearable. I meant that… Well, let’s just say I had a hard time accepting myself a few years back, and Ella helped a lot. I think that if Rachel ever has trouble accepting herself like that, she could use a friend like you.”

I have no idea what she means. Rachel’s already accepted that she’s bi, and that’s all I can think of. Maybe she means what Rachel said earlier, that she needs to accept that she’s male? But how would Desiree even know about that?

Before I can ask any of that, someone behind me clears his throat and I turn towards him. A short man wearing a button-up shirt with short, curly hair is standing there, a girl around my age with similar but way longer hair wearing a light sweater skirt combo stands next to him, facepalming. The man ignores her, plainly asking, “Are you all Ada’s online friends?”

Ella takes charge, confidently replying, “Yes sir. I assume you’re her father?”

The man nods proudly. “Yes, I am Ada’s dad.” He looks us all over once, eyeing Desiree especially, before nodding again. “Well, you all seem like fine young folk, so I’ll be on my way.” He turns to the girl, who I assume is this Ada. “Alright sweetie, I’ll leave you to it. I’m going to sit in that cafe,” he points, “and get some work done. You keep your phone on you, be back here by two-thirty and don’t leave the mall.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, Dad.”

Her dad waves and heads towards the cafe, leaving us all in an awkward silence. Every one of us stares at Ada, who’s looking back, her face slowly turning as red as her hair.

“Well, it was nice meeting you all. I’m going to go and hide forever now.”

yd12k

It's been a while! Sorry about that, it was a combination of circumstances. I released the last chapter a bit before I'd actually written enough to have the buffer I prefer to have, and then I ran into a few writers blocks and minor but distracting colds trying to build said buffer back up. I've finally finished the next few chapters, though, and assuming I don't run headfirst into a writers block or get sick for entire weeks again, releases should be more regular from this point on. I hope.