Never Just Friends

by Lily Craig

  "I'm still mad at you," said Georgie. Her voice had a husky quality to it, the kind that made it sound like she needed to clear her throat. She didn't. Just stood, head slightly tilted, while she gazed at Madelyn.

  "If that's how you treat me when you're angry, I’ll take it."

  Madelyn wasn't sure if she were joking and flirtatious or utterly sincere. Maybe both.

  "Don't get cocky," Georgie said, smirking. The twinkle in her eye as she said it almost took Madelyn's breath away. All the nights this year she'd spent wondering if Georgie could feel anything romantic for her now culminated in such simple flirtation that strangers wouldn't even remark upon it. To Madelyn, though, it was earth shaking.

  "Not to worry. I've fucked up my ankle just so I can stay humble."

  "Yeah, we should take a closer look at that," Georgie said, running her hand up the back of her neck, where she paused, awkwardly, and stood looking at Madelyn's foot. "Can you take off your sock?"

  Madelyn wanted to ask Georgie to take it off for her, but she suspected overt flirtation would send her friend running outside in a panic. Firewood and snow drifts were likely better company than Madelyn's terrible jokes. She bent and peeled the sock off, gingerly moving it past her swelling ankle.

  Georgie kneeled again, immediately sucking in a breath when she did so.

  "Damnit. Now my pants are wet from the melting snow."

  It was like she was trying to get Madelyn to say something dirty in response. Or was that just Madelyn's mind running wild, now that Georgie had kissed her?

  That kiss had shifted everything.

  Before, she'd been afraid that Georgie wanted nothing to do with her. Georgie's response to finding out Madelyn was in love with her hadn't exactly been happy. But now it seemed there was more lurking beneath the surface. Madelyn should have been frustrated to be stuck in a powerless cabin, her ankle sprained and painful. Instead, she was flushed with gratitude that the universe sent her this brief, bizarre moment in time.

  It might just have been exactly what she needed to get close to Georgie.

  10

  "Are you sure you're comfortable?" asked Georgie. Madelyn wanted to laugh, having been swaddled in blankets on the couch, stuffed in between so many pillows she wasn't sure there was even room for a human body to join them. The side table Georgie had piled with snacks, water, and books sat within arm's reach, and the fire was crackling amiably.

  "Yes. Now please go get more firewood. I'm growing accustomed to this level of luxury and if it dies down even a bit, I am sure I'll get a most frightful chill!" Madelyn grinned while she held the back of her hand to her forehead like a damsel in distress.

  "At your service," said Georgie. She smiled just indulgently enough that Madelyn knew she hadn't pushed past that invisible boundary. The one where she'd flirt or joke too hard and Georgie might pull away indefinitely.

  God, falling for your best friend was hard.

  There'd been many times in the decades that they'd known each other when Madelyn had been thankful they'd met. In the months since Georgie had moved to Edmonton, Madelyn spent even more time thinking about her. It wasn't until she'd started dating women openly, trying to find the right person for the rest of her life, that she'd realized she was searching for something she'd already found.

  And now she had her shot to convince Georgie that she deserved a real romantic chance.

  Georgie stacked firewood from the lean-to in piles by the fire and then joined Madelyn in the living room. While Madelyn absentmindedly snacked on the popcorn twists Georgie had poured into a bowl for her, they sat enjoying the fire's heat.

  “I said it before, but I’ll say it again: you make a good fire, Georgie. And thanks for helping me with my ankle. You're sure you don't think it's broken?"

  A flash of uncertainty crossed Georgie's face, but she shook her head. "Not with the way you're able to move it right now. Just sprained, I'd say. But take the advice of a medical professional over mine when you're able to get out of here. I'm just a basic first aid kind of gal."

  "And then some," said Madelyn. She smiled, hoping to catch Georgie's eye, but Georgie’s gaze was lost in the depths of the fire. "Now that we're cozy again... Would you mind telling me a bit about the dates you've been on? If you don't want to, I understand. But if you do, you know, I could help. Be your friend and confidant and all that kind of thing."

  "Are you sure?"

  Madelyn paused. She craved intimacy with Georgie more than anything, even if that disclosure would hurt. She'd rather know what kinds of women Georgie was seeing than not. Might as well. "Yes, of course! Just because I'm in love with you doesn't mean I don't want to be your friend."

  Georgie frowned slightly and Madelyn backpedaled.

  "I'm joking, Georgie. Joking! Too soon, though, hey?"

  "You bet it's too soon." Georgie snorted with laughter and Madelyn felt the tightness in her belly shift.

  "But I am serious. Any real prospects?"

  "Huh. Not sure I'd say that," Georgie started. But she scratched her head and paused. "More just some fun."

  “So like casual sex?"

  "Are you really sure you want to talk about this? Couldn't it wait until we Skype next month or something?"

  If Madelyn wasn't mistaken, Georgie was blushing. Georgie shifted in her seat, glancing at Madelyn without making eye contact.

  "I'm hurt. Entertain me," said Madelyn. "It's the least you could do, since we don't even have Netflix."

  "Ok then. I'll be Netflix."

  "If your sex life in Edmonton was a Netflix show, what would its title be?"

  Georgie groaned. "I don't know, 'Extremely Quiet and Incredibly Mediocre'?"

  With a slap on her knee, Madelyn burst into laughter she didn't know she'd needed. "That's good. How about 'Awkward is the New Black'?"

  "Or 'Blue is the Awkwardest Color'..."

  "Good, good. Mine would be something bleak, like one of those adaptations of a 19th-century novel. 'Blithering Heights'?"

  "Oh, come on. Your love life isn't that awkward."

  "Really? I told the love of my life that I was in love with her when she had no escape from the cabin we were snowed into. I think that qualifies as at least a bit Bronte-like."

  Georgie dodged the claim skillfully, avoiding the need to dig into Madelyn's feelings deeper. "If this were really something from the 19th century, wouldn't the cabin be a manor home?"

  "There would probably be a governess."

  "Would that be you, or me?"

  Madelyn's pleasure at being caught up in a playful conversation with Georgie again overtook her. "Oh, definitely me. You'd be the glowering, mysterious manor home owner. Maybe inherited it from a distant cousin, but you never wanted to have it in the first place. Tough, hard to please. Sexy as all hell. Like a lesbian Mr. Rochester."

  "Who?"

  Sometimes Madelyn forgot that Georgie didn't share her academic bent, and she felt her cheeks color at the recognition she'd been flirting without meaning to. "Rich guy in a 19th-century book. Maybe a bit more like you than you'd be willing to admit."

  "Does he make a mean fire, too?" Georgie pointed to the hearth. "Or is he too much of a dick to help with things?"

  The pause between them sagged beneath Georgie's less-than-playful tone. Nervous sweat gathered at Madelyn's underarms.

  "Can't say I remember whether he was involved in building any fires. But he's got a good heart underneath the bristly surface. That's what I meant." Madelyn ached to see Georgie retreating from the banter already.

  "Ok."

  "But to get back to things... Has Edmonton really been that bad? It couldn't have been all awkward."

  "You underestimate my ability to make anything awkward, Mads."

  "Oh, G, that's not true."

  "I was joking." Georgie said the words lightly, but Madelyn could sense the deeper undercurrent of self-doubt.

  "Seriously, though. It's good for you to get out there. I'm sure it's nowhere near as awkwar
d as you think it's been."

  Georgie sighed. "No, it's been pretty bad. That's the thing, Mads. I meet a girl, I kiss her, maybe fool around a bit. But when we get to talking, it's all I can do to stop myself from wishing she were you."

  Had she really said that?

  Madelyn's breath froze in her chest, her blood seemed to careen about her veins with wild abandon. The sound of the fire rang in her ears ten times louder than before because her whole body rioted with Georgie's words.

  Though she wasn't sure what it meant yet, Madelyn's instincts screamed for it to be what she wished it was. A sign.

  Hope.

  "When you know someone as well as we know each other, there's, like, this rhythm. It doesn't matter if we don't see each other for a week, a month, a year or maybe even ten years—though I don't want to find out if that's true—because we fall back into the pattern without a fuss. And I don't see how I could ever reach that point with some of these women I've been hanging out with. Then I sometimes think I wouldn't want to, even if I could."

  Madelyn watched through half-lowered eyelashes as Georgie's feelings spilled out of her. The normally reserved girl was nakedly vulnerable, pouring thoughts out that Madelyn felt so lucky to hear she felt tears gathering in her eyes.

  "Georgie," she said. Then she hesitated, unsure of where to go from there. "I feel the same way."

  Their eyes met. Madelyn's heart pounded at a comically frantic pace. She'd missed Georgie so much, wanted her nearby and wished for her to feel the love Madelyn did, that she'd mythologized a moment like this into her memory before it even happened.

  Now that Georgie was admitting something about their connection, although maybe not explicitly romantic feelings, Madelyn was caught in an excited hush. Reality was turning out to be more vivid, more excruciatingly wonderful than her imagination.

  Without speaking, Georgie slipped out from underneath her blankets and joined Madelyn on the couch. They snuggled up together, warming Georgie's surprisingly cool skin. Madelyn was careful not to move in a way that would jar her sore ankle, but the ice pack she'd had on her slid off.

  Never mind. This was more important.

  "What if I'm not meant to find love," said Georgie. "What if this is it?"

  "This, as in being single? Or...us?"

  "Mads, I really did need to move to Edmonton. But it doesn't feel right there, either."

  "I know, you told me that you needed to. I believed you then and I believe you now. But I also believe, with every damn fiber of my body, that you're going to find what you need in life."

  Georgie's sad eyes made Madelyn shift closer on the couch. She couldn't handle the pain in her friend's expression.

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "You know how hard it was for me to figure out my sexuality. Remember how you were crazy young? I was always so jealous of your knowing early on. You figured it out, and once you knew, you knew. No doubts, no closet, no boyfriends you couldn't quite click with."

  "So, you're saying the famously indecisive one of us is the one to trust here. Wouldn't it make more sense for me to be the one who knows that I'm going to be single forever? And to be right about it?"

  Georgie rolled her eyes at herself, but beneath the joking facade Madelyn knew she'd been sincere. That Georgie truly believed she was destined to remain single.

  "Didn't I just tell you this week that I was in love with you? How much more could I say to combat this false notion of yours that you're doomed to be alone?"

  The light outside was fading, but Georgie's eyes shone brightly in the flickering glow of the fire. When Madelyn had first told Georgie her feelings, it had gone appallingly badly. This time, speaking those words again seemed to have the opposite effect. They sank in.

  "Nothing, I guess." Georgie shrugged, and in that gesture, she appeared to say so much. Madelyn's heart broke to watch her friend struggle with self-confidence like this. "I don't know why I kissed you like that earlier. I'm sorry."

  Here was Madelyn's chance.

  "I'm not." She stared Georgie down, not letting the fear that battered her ribcage with each manic heartbeat keep her from speaking the truth. "I'm glad you did, and I'd be glad if you did it again."

  A splash of sparks shot up from the fire and Madelyn almost jumped, feeling the throb of her bad ankle bring her back to reality. But she stayed focused on Georgie, watching the way she clearly struggled with so much while saying nothing.

  Before another moment could elapse, Madelyn took Georgie's hand. It was rough to the touch, worn from her welding work. But the delicate size of Georgie's finger bones surprised Madelyn. She was sure they'd held hands before, perhaps in scary movies or when comforting one another through heartbreak and pain.

  Never had it felt as momentous as this.

  Madelyn pulled Georgie closer so that she could kiss her again, an answer to this afternoon's tentative opening move. Georgie was tense at first, but she soon melted like a marshmallow in hot chocolate, growing softer at the edges before she let herself be completely drawn in.

  This kiss was far deeper than the one earlier in the day. Madelyn felt Georgie's tongue against her lips and parted them. Eagerness swelled in her at the sensation of how entwined they became, mouths pressed up against one another, lips tingling and delicious. Her body roared with need, a flare of want so vivid she had to consciously restrain herself for fear of coming on too strong.

  She didn't want to do anything Georgie would regret.

  Madelyn also didn't want to close herself off from potential connection, from a pleasure she'd ached for in various ways for what now seemed like her entire life.

  If Georgie wanted her, really wanted her, Madelyn would happily oblige.

  There was nothing she was more certain about in this world.

  Again, she felt a wave of lust wash over her, and Madelyn sparked with gratitude when Georgie shifted even closer. And then, as if her every wish were being granted all at once, Georgie's hands began to explore her body.

  They had never made out before, but Madelyn had pictured it many times now. In all her fantasies, Georgie was ravenous with need for Madelyn and expressed it assertively, with skill. Real life supplanted Madelyn's feverish daydreams so quickly that it was like she'd never fantasized. Feeling Georgie touch her was that good.

  A mere hand on the side of her breast sent heat directly to her center, raging with as much strength as her hottest fantasies. Georgie's other hand rested on Madelyn's hip, a steadying influence that drew her closer still.

  Madelyn let herself relax into the moment, let her body feel each jolt of bliss like she might never have something this wonderful happen to her again. She knew things were tense between them, knew that Georgie would be going back to Edmonton after the cabin trip ended. There wasn't a future in place for them, at least not one they'd discussed.

  And yet, that didn't matter to Madelyn just then. Her imagined monologues about taking a chance on their potential for something great evaporated in the fog of her brain. If they didn't date, so what?

  At least she got to touch Georgie. Feel her touching her own body. Enjoy the sensation of how her body responded to Georgie's attention, which was both new and familiar in odd, beautiful ways.

  The strength of Georgie's arms manifested in tough, wiry muscles, sleek against Madelyn's palm as she ran her hand along them. Underneath Georgie's button-up shirt, Madelyn felt her small, firm breasts and longed to see how they might goosebump at her touch.

  Georgie shifted on the couch so she could kneel above Madelyn, readying herself to straddle her before she stopped, breathless, and swore.

  "Oh shit. Am I hurting you?"

  Madelyn's brain screamed at the way Georgie had stopped touching Madelyn. She struggled to process what the comment was even about.

  "Hm?"

  "Your ankle, Mads. Is it ok?"

  Madelyn snorted with laughter, a release of all the pent-up tension from the past few days. Rather than answer, she pulled at Georgie's
shirt collar to bring her down to another kiss.

  If she'd known, all those years ago, that she'd feel this elated at kissing her best friend, Madelyn was certain she would have done it a lot earlier.

  11

  Age 16

  Georgie stood at the edge of the high school gym in the middle of the two factions that had emerged when the lights dimmed and the music started. To her left stood the boys in overly crisp new suits, most of them ill-fitting and accessorized with gaudily bright shirts in the same colors as their dates' dresses. To the right were the girls, lip gloss visible even from meters away.

  She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. Not this. A sweater vest over her new plaid shirt had paired nicely with her Adidas sneakers when she'd gotten dressed at home. Ariel, normally catty about Georgie’s boyish outfits, had even helped muss Georgie’s hair just so. Here, Georgie felt like she was cosplaying as an old man who desperately clung to his youth. When she scanned the crowd of high schoolers, a few of the girls looked back nervously.

  Like they were worried she might ask them to dance.

  Yeah, right. You'd be lucky, she thought.

  Georgie's attention studiously avoided exactly the pair of people she was most interested in. Her eyes went everywhere except where they wanted to go. Despite not looking, she could tell what was happening.

  In the center of the room, bumping and dancing awkwardly beneath the rented strobe lights, were Madelyn and her date. Georgie still couldn't bring herself to consider the guy Madelyn's boyfriend, even though they'd been officially dating for a few months now.

  Josh. A name as bland as his personality.

  The sounds of "Live Your Life" blasted through the DJ's speaker system so loudly that Georgie felt the bass reverberate in her ribcage. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but the song was hardly danceable, especially for a bunch of gangly teenagers hyperaware of how they looked when they moved. Some girls on the dance floor jokingly shook their asses in an exaggerated way while their dates cradled their hips like they were holding on for dear life.