by Lily Craig
Georgie sipped her plastic cup of root beer and wished she'd brought the flask she'd gotten from a friend a few weeks ago. One of the members of the GSA had a metalworker father who was surprisingly chill about underage drinking. You could get the flask personalized, even, with anything you wanted on the front. Georgie had asked for the Slytherin house logo and been thrilled to see the results.
Damn this dry dance. Alcohol-free parents' groups had organized the event.
When the song switched to "Sex on Fire," Georgie couldn't help herself. Her eyes found Madelyn on the dance floor and watched as the first few chords reached Madelyn’s ears and she recognized what was playing. The glee, the shriek of excitement, were beyond endearing. Josh laughed while Madelyn took his hands and started to bounce up and down, pumped to hear her favorite song at the dance.
Madelyn danced like she truly didn't think anyone was watching. The cliché was that you ought to, but Madelyn had no need to convince herself to live without the restrictions other people struggled with. She was entirely, completely her own person. Georgie knew this already, but seeing it that winter night at the Valentine's Day dance confirmed her beliefs even more.
It hurt too much to watch. That, she also knew. But it was like watching a car slide on a patch of ice to an inevitable crash. Looking away was unthinkable because she was bound to the results, horrified. So Georgie stood there nodding her head and watching Josh and Madelyn dance. Madelyn's boundless joy at the chorus, the drums, everything was so heart-piercingly pure that Georgie felt her throat constrict.
She knew she had to get over how she felt.
That didn't make it any easier.
How could Madelyn ever love her back, when Madelyn was straight? Hope had buoyed Georgie's spirits for a while, bargaining that maybe Madelyn was bisexual or still figuring things out. But as she gazed at Madelyn smiling into Josh's sweaty teenaged face, Georgie couldn't see how anyone would tolerate having Josh's hands on her body without being 100%, completely heterosexual.
Technically, there was nothing wrong with him. He played guitar, badly, and liked the sound of his own voice a bit more than Georgie cared to hear, but he was a good enough person. Josh's most incriminating flaw was simply that he was not Georgie, and by getting in between Georgie and the girl she loved, he had exposed a fatal miscalculation in Georgie's assumptions.
Therefore, it was while watching Josh's gormless expression as he danced, the tiniest bite of his lip the only indication that he was concentrating on what happened around him, that Georgie felt she had finally put up with enough. She and Madelyn were still close, but they were drifting.
It was time to cut the cord and sail away.
Time to go.
Except that at the same moment as Georgie realized she had to focus her affections elsewhere, Madelyn spotted Georgie at the edge of the gym.
"Georgie! You came!" she shrieked, bounding over to her like Josh wasn't even there. Georgie found herself enveloped in a typical Madelyn hug: all-consuming, long-lasting, and a little too much.
"Yeah, wasn't much on TV," Georgie heard herself say. The ringing in her ears could have been the volume of the DJ's music, but she suspected it had more to do with close physical proximity to her crush. Not that the word 'crush' came anywhere near explaining what she felt for Madelyn.
"I'm so glad you made it," Madelyn said, beaming as she held a hand on Georgie's shoulder. The touch lingered and Georgie shrugged it off, finally, unable to stand the contact if it weren't a sign of romantic intent.
The silhouette of Josh ambled over, nodding at Georgie with a placid smile while he draped an arm around Madelyn's shoulders. "Hey."
"Hey, man," said Georgie.
"Josh! Isn't this amazing? Never thought I'd see the day. Georgie at a dance!"
"Looking pretty hipster, G-money," said Josh. She bristled at the unwanted nickname.
Better than your shiny turquoise dress shirt, Joshua.
Georgie bit her tongue, though. Madelyn had been so embarrassed when she told Georgie that she had a boyfriend. Like she'd needed to apologize, or something. Georgie had assured her that they could talk about things like boys, that just because she was gay didn't mean she hated helping her friend with problems.
Too bad she'd been a little less than honest when she said that.
Though, seen in another light, the issue wasn't that Georgie was gay. She could have been the dykiest girl in all of Western Canada and had no problem with girl talk sessions if she hadn't had those pesky feelings of hers. The ones that woke her in the night from restless, sweaty dreams where Madelyn slipped into her bed.
"I try," Georgie said to Josh. She rolled her eyes at Madelyn, hoping it conveyed the frustration she felt with enough amusement to keep things light. She and Madelyn often talked about how the term 'hipster' was a stupid insult used by people threatened by someone different from them.
"Come on, come dance with us!" Madelyn said breathily. A sheen of sweat made her skin glow in the strobing lights, and though Georgie hated dancing almost as much as she disliked Josh, she had to admit that both feelings were rooted in deeply unfair bias. Plus, what else was she going to do?
"Fine, fine."
"Oooh shit, this is my jam!" yelped Josh, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke. The song that came on was Coldplay. Georgie fought the urge to roll her eyes at Madelyn again. She mostly succeeded, but beneath her significant restraint she wondered what Madelyn could possibly see in this guy. He was like a walking boredom machine.
Though the song wasn't bad, by any means, Georgie wasn't moved to dance through passion for the music. She shuffled, bopping her head along to the beat, while Madelyn tried to dance between Georgie and Josh, spending time looking at each of them equally. The artifice of the situation made her attempt all the sweeter.
Georgie knew she should appreciate the lengths to which her friend would go to try to make her feel welcome and comfortable. Hell, Madelyn had joined the GSA alongside Georgie and proudly wore her Ally pin, even to the most redneck of places. Hannah and Nadia, Georgie’s new queer friends who were already dating when she had started going to GSA meetings, had welcomed Madelyn into the fold. It did help, a bit.
Nothing could make things turn out the way Georgie wanted, though.
It only took the one song to show her that. And it wasn't that Madelyn paid too much attention to Josh—though any amount was more than Georgie felt he deserved—so much as that Georgie didn't want to be a third wheel with her own soulmate.
At least, she'd thought Madelyn was her soulmate.
Maybe Georgie was just another girl falling for the wrong person.
While the song faded and another rose up to take its place, Georgie slipped away from the dance floor and trotted out the gymnasium doors. The fluorescent hallway lights hurt her eyes while she adjusted to the brightness, but as the sound of the music faded and turned into a muted bump and bass, she felt her heartbeat slow.
“G! Wait!"
Madelyn's voice arrested her, as it always did.
"Georgie!"
She'd kept walking, but the sound of Madelyn clacking down the floor in her borrowed high heels made her turn despite herself.
"Why are you leaving? You just got here."
"I know. But I’ve gotta go."
For countless weeks following the Valentine's Day dance, Georgie would wish she'd had more courage that night. She would castigate herself for her many failings, her weaknesses that determined the course of the talk with Madelyn. Because instead of telling her how she felt, she bottled the emotion even more tightly.
If she was going to be in love with her best friend, that was her business, and no one else's. She might be wallowing in self-pity and shame, but at least she'd have the dignity of no one else knowing that was the case. She hadn’t even told Nadia and Hannah. Georgie's mind was set in the split-second it took for Madelyn's earnest face to shift to a frown.
"What's wrong?"
Georgie knew she should
have been honest. Trust was the foundation of a close friendship, after all. Still, deep down she didn't believe she could tell Madelyn what she felt without losing her completely. So she kept her secret buried and spoke lies, instead.
The words Georgie hissed at Madelyn weren't completely dishonest. They had a base layer of truth to them, but the focus was all wrong. If her feelings were an iceberg, then Georgie only lashed out with the top layer visible. Only discussed that crisp, icy tip of things, pretending that what lurked beneath didn't exist at all.
"Come on, Madelyn. You know what's wrong. I came here to have fun at the dance, just like you begged me to. But you're so distracted with Josh. It's not like it used to be, back when we were friends in middle school. You don't have time for me anymore."
The obvious hurt in Madelyn's face melted Georgie's heart. Her guts wavered, screaming for her to speak what was actually going on. But the willful, stubborn brain calling the shots squashed any dissent and continued on its trajectory.
"I thought you said it was ok for me to be dating him."
They were standing in the front entrance to their high school, beneath the rows of sports trophies from generations prior to theirs, the muffled sounds of the dance the only accompaniment to their words. Above them, a fluorescent tube flickered in its panel.
"Yeah. That's not the point. You said things wouldn't change between us, but they obviously have. I only came here because you wanted me to. Nadia and Hannah were going to go to Jessie's Diner."
It was characteristic of Madelyn that she took the burden of responsibility entirely on herself. No blame for Georgie seemed to occur to her. That alone should have been reason for Georgie to lay off her fury, but somehow it only fanned the flames.
"I'm sorry, G. Do you want to go back inside, and we can request a song you'd like to dance to? Josh can get us some more drinks."
"You know I don't like dancing. What's the point?"
"Please, it's been a while since we've hung out. We could just eat candy on the sidelines?"
The hope in Madelyn's eyes was emphasized by her makeup. She looked lovely, and though Georgie longed to say so, she'd repressed so much already. What was one more thing?
"No, I can't. I'm going to go."
Georgie left her best friend standing outside the Valentine's Day dance, crying rivulets down her perfect, rosy cheeks. For no good reason. Georgie had pushed just for the sake of pushing, hurt Madelyn to avoid a deeper hurt if she revealed how she actually felt. Sick roiling in her gut announced that she'd made a terrible decision.
As if that wasn't already obvious to Georgie.
She stamped outside, shivering in the fluffy snow while she made her way to her beater of a car. With the ignition turned on, the car's tape deck started blaring Black Flag at a volume that annoyed anyone unlucky enough to be her passenger. But Georgie didn't put the car into gear. Not yet.
She sat in the driver's seat, listening to the raucous punk music and staring at her phone.
Should say something. Tell Madelyn it's not her fault.
Georgie typed out a message, painstakingly making her way through the T9 predictive text to apologize. “Sorry. Not feeling like myself tonight, but it's not your fault. I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I hope you have fun, and you look beautiful tonight.”
The words glowed on her screen, but they looked so dumb. Inadequate. Before she could gather the courage to press send, she deleted everything. There weren't the right words to say what she wanted to, so better to say nothing than that shit.
Just as she was about to put her phone in the cup holder and reverse out of her spot, the phone buzzed.
It was Madelyn.
She'd written "You mean so much to me, Georgie. Please take care of yourself tonight. Xoxo, Mads."
And though her body was raging and her music was furious, all Georgie felt was complete despair. She melted onto the steering wheel and tears poured out of her faster than she could stop them. With frenetic power chords as her backdrop, she let herself sob out every feeling she couldn't give voice to.
12
Present Day
How was this happening?
Madelyn recalled, distinctly, the moment she realized she loved Georgie. It was during a bath after softball practice, when she inspected a bruise on the side of her thigh and thought about how much time she'd spent hating that part of her body. Too soft, too willing to jiggle when exposed in shorts, too pale and squishy and cellulite-dappled.
And she’d remembered the abrupt, aggressive laugh Georgie had burst into when Madelyn first told Georgie she hated her thighs. Madelyn had been so offended, sure that Georgie was laughing at her for feeling insecure. But it came out, in further conversation, that Georgie had thought Madelyn was being ironic. Satirizing women's insecurities about thighs because they were like a Cathy comic come to life.
It hadn't occurred to Georgie that Madelyn could feel so negatively about her body, and she'd said so. "Because you're perfect," she'd said.
Madelyn had prodded her thigh bruise in the bath and felt her chest swell with affection at the memory. Georgie thought she was perfect. But how could Madelyn be the perfect one? Wasn't that Georgie?
Madelyn had stayed in the bathwater past its warmth. As the water cooled, she lost herself in thought. Perhaps it would be more accurate to call it feeling, not thought, for she swelled with all kinds of sentimental memories. Suddenly, shivers caught up to her and she leapt from the tub.
The face that stared back from Madelyn's bathroom mirror hardly seemed like her own. In those eyes, the same ones that had confronted her every time she'd looked in a reflective surface since childhood, she saw something new. A spark. If it had been there longer than she realized, so what? At least she saw it now.
Madelyn was in love.
She didn't look different in any noticeable way, but her reflection appeared to quiver at the edges. Something deep within her had shifted and though all her molecules, muscles, and feelings were the same, they existed in a completely different context. The chill from a too-long bath began to move her from surreal to outright cold, so she wrapped herself in a towel and had a good, long cry.
It had been so cathartic.
Madelyn was no longer sure what she'd hoped Georgie would say when she told her how she felt. Those daydreams in the months before the trip, on the drive out to Banff, crumbled under scrutiny. Instead, Madelyn now looked into Georgie's eyes, the tip of Georgie's nose a little pink from the power outage's effects on the cabin, and grinned.
"I'm so glad I met you," she murmured. There was no time for more words, though, because Madelyn dove into another kiss. Georgie's mouth was far too enticing. Her effect on Madelyn was strong, a bright, clear spot in a murky and vast world.
Though Georgie didn't respond out loud, the pace of her kissing rose to a new level. Her hand was tightly wound in the back of Madelyn's hair, cradling the nape of her neck while bringing her nearer. They could have melded into one person just then. Madelyn was certain she'd never felt so intimately close to someone before.
Crackling sparks in the fire formed a background symphony that painted bright spots in Madelyn's eyes. Nothing shone more than Georgie, though. She shrugged off the button-up shirt covering her tank top, revealing the smooth, strong lines of her arms. Madelyn's body screamed internally at how alluring Georgie looked.
Rather than voicing those feelings, Madelyn let her fingers trail down from Georgie's face to the edges of her shoulder, her triceps. Not only did Georgie pull Madelyn closer, but her toned body rippled with energy that seemed to hum beneath the surface of her skin. It was all Madelyn could do to restrain herself from laughing at the wonderful absurdity of her situation.
Georgie, her friend, was the one she was touching. And it wasn't just some casual brush against one another in the hallway. Madelyn delighted in every inch more exploration Georgie allowed her, and she felt her excitement rise ever higher as she did so.
If it wasn't for that excitement
, she wouldn't have gone further. What she did next surprised Madelyn almost as much as realizing she loved Georgie. With a swift, decisive motion, she took off her top, revealing a simple black bra hugging her delicate breasts. Rather than shy away from Georgie's gaze, she stared and enjoyed the feeling of her attention. Her hunger.
Goosebumps rose on Madelyn's skin while she sat there. It felt like eons, but Georgie moved to pull down one of the bra's cups and lick Madelyn's nipple in what must have been only a few seconds. The rest of Madelyn's sense of time was obliterated as Georgie's tongue met flesh.
Oh sweet fresh hell, thought Madelyn.
What she actually said was a consonant-free moan, the nature of which was clear. Georgie had awakened something deep within Madelyn that couldn't be contained. Not tonight. She wondered, then, if anything in Georgie was feeling the same way. The pace at which she paid attention to Madelyn's breasts seemed to say yes.
Warmth continued to grow in Madelyn's core, singing a deep note of longing that rang out across her body. With a soft grunt, Madelyn freed herself entirely of her bra and let Georgie have access to her, unencumbered. It was only moments before she used this newfound luck to tweak Madelyn's nipple hard enough to make her gasp.
"Oh, I like that sound," murmured Georgie. She looked surprised at the huskiness of her own voice, but that shock didn't bar her from tugging at Madelyn's jeans, the two of them wriggling on the couch awkwardly before sliding in a heap to the floor.
“Shit. Is your ankle ok?” Georgie asked. She pulled one of the blankets from the couch and repositioned herself on it before the fire.
Something made Madelyn pause.
"Are you sure we should do this?"
A cloud seemed to pass over Georgie's expression, but it faded so quickly Madelyn wasn't sure she'd even seen it. Firelight flickered behind Georgie, casting all kinds of unreliable and ephemeral shadows.
"Are you?" asked Georgie.
Deep inside Madelyn, a voice that knew logic and caution prepared itself to speak. But its throat-clearing was timid, uncertain. A much louder answer thrummed in Madelyn's veins. The setting was romantic, the person ideal, the thronging ache inside her ripe.
