The Things She Kept

by Rosalie Marie Whitton

  “I’m not a words person.”

  ***

  “What do you want, though?”

  Riley’s confused and a little annoyed, enough so that she’s not afraid or embarrassed anymore to demand something, even if she feels as though she’s shaking a bit. Willa smiles with one corner of her mouth and both her eyes. She wavers closer, until their noses brush, as if she’s going in for a kiss, but their lips don’t quite touch, or maybe barely do when she answers.

  “To date you.”

  Riley gets her hands on Willa’s shoulders and kisses her promptly and thoroughly. Willa tastes like toothpaste and orange juice and Riley doesn’t even care. She doesn’t care about anything anymore. She doesn’t care about the panic attack or the party or business school or soccer. Willa’s a girl- a woman- and it doesn’t matter at all. Kissing her is still better than kissing anyone else ever has been, even with Willa stooping so that she can keep her hands on Riley’s waist.

  She drops one hand to the chair to try and push herself up. Willa lifts her to her feet and Riley clings to her to keep from losing her balance, the fingers of one hand gripping the shoulder of her t-shirt and her other grabbing at Willa’s forearm to keep her upright. When they’re both standing she doesn’t let go. When they’ve pulled away she doesn’t let go. When Willa starts speaking again, she doesn’t let go.

  “I thought you said you didn’t know what you were doing.”

  Riley shrugs, feeling the heat creep into her ears.

  “I didn’t mean kissing. I know how to do that.”

  Willa’s laugh then is a sound of absolute pure delight, and Riley has to grin because of how infectious it is. She feels Willa’s hands creep up her back, and, feeling that she ought to do something, sort of strokes her shoulder.

  “Yeah,” Willa agrees, still laughing, “yeah you do.”

  “I meant that I don’t know how dating works like this. Like, do I ask you out, or do you ask me out? Who pays? Who- with boys it’s always, you know, he’s dominant, kind of physically or whatever, and this way I’m just confused because there’s no structure.”

  “That’s the fun of it. You get to be on top whenever you want. I mean, not like- but that too.”

  Riley blushes, Willa blushes, and there’s that feeling again that she’s not sure how to name. Desire sounds too flowery. She settles on ‘want’, but even that is a lot, even that makes everything catch up to her. She notices then how close they are, really. Not just their faces. Their hips are pressed together because of how Willa helped her up, and Willa’s hands on her back keep them that way. Willa has to look down at her, so their upper bodies aren’t flush, exactly, but not far apart, either. She’s practically standing on Willa’s toes, and she wants her. Wants more. At least her body does.

  Jesus. Her body has never wanted anything before, if that’s what this is.

  She withdraws and Willa lets her go.

  ***

  She can’t find the words to actually apologize, and she’s not quite sure what she’s apologizing for, other than flirting, but all the same Willa feels like she has to make up for something. In the car everything goes back to normal for a while, while Riley talks about Quentin a little and tells stories Willa is sure he wouldn’t want her to tell. Still, when they pull up at the dorm, Willa stops her getting out by speaking.

  “Listen, I...I really like you. And I don’t wanna rush things, but you have to tell me when I’m rushing things.”

  “Joking about sex isn’t rushing things,” Riley replies, but the pink crawling into her cheeks tells another story. Willa makes a face.

  “It’s not! I’m not a prude, alright?”

  “I didn’t-”

  “It’s fine. You didn’t do anything. I’m gonna go in and make sure Court doesn’t think I’m dead.”

  “I had a great time last night. I hope you did, too, after the whole…”

  “Yeah,” Riley says, in the same tone, but it’s clear that’s slowed her down. She looks like she’s fighting something when she smiles a little and says, “I did. I’ll see you later.”

  ***

  They just keep winning. Riley keeps scoring, keeps finding that groove, that path on the field that always works for her. She keeps expecting her luck to run out and it doesn’t. It doesn’t occur to her for a week or so that it might not be luck at all- just skill, hours of practice and some natural talent. The thought terrifies and thrills her. It’s a promise of potential, the possibility of years and years of the soccer field in front of her, and that makes it everything she’s ever wanted, so she’s not sure why it’s still so scary.

  It reminds her of how she feels about Willa.

  For a while she forgets about business school.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Willa says she’s not one to celebrate one month anniversaries, but something is different that night, even if she denies it. It’s not like she went all out with candles and china plates, it’s just her attitude. She’s too quiet, too distracted- Riley’s anxiety immediately kicks in and she’s convinced that she’s about to be dumped.

  She can’t come up with a good reason why, though. Things have been great. Really, in all honesty, not much has changed: they hang out together, at the gym or at Willa’s, and study, or lift, or run. Sometimes- often, even- they end up making out. Riley likes thinking about it. That’s embarrassing, probably, but she does- at night before she goes to sleep her mind wanders and it always ends up settling on Willa.

  Specifically on kissing Willa. Nobody she’s ever kissed has been this good at it. Willa makes it an art form, always takes her time but not in a lazy way, finds places to leave hickeys where Riley knows her hair can and will cover it. And it’s so good. All of it is so good. Last time in particular, which she doesn’t think about for two reasons: one because it messes with her in a couple of ways she would rather not think about or deal with, and two because she’s embarrassed about how it ended.

  Willa had her on the couch, horizontal because- as they have discussed- it’s easier for them, given the height difference. It had started innocently and ended with Willa’s tongue in her mouth and one of her hands shoved up under the back of Willa’s shirt and absolutely no breath in her lungs at all. They had gotten carried away, but it wasn’t obvious until Riley realized that Willa’s thigh was between her legs, which she didn’t realize until Willa moved to kiss her jaw and pressed forward with that thigh, and then Riley had completely embarrassed herself. She’s not sure what the word is for the noise she made. Even now thinking about it brings a blush to her cheeks so hot that she needs to take her sweatshirt off.

  Willa doesn’t miss that. She’s far away, sure, but she doesn’t miss that.

  “You okay? You’re kinda flushed.”

  There’s no way to answer without lying, so Riley just shrugs. Willa grins and closes her psych manual, and when she pushes it to the side Riley knows what’s coming. She’s right. Willa tips her chin up with one hand and kisses her, long and slow. Riley leans forward, following the kiss, and Willa pulls away a little bit, laughing.

  “It’s okay. I was thinking about kissing you, too.”

  That does as much for her as a kiss would do, sends a tingle right down her spine and makes her want to ask if kissing is all Willa was thinking about, which is so not like her at all, but Willa has that effect. Drives her crazy. Makes her want to do things like take her shirt off or something- she would, if Willa asked her to.

  She’d rather Willa take her shirt off, though, and that’s what confuses her the most. She’s used to ogling shirtless boys, but she’s not used to being this attracted to a woman.

  “Where are you at, Rilo?”

  “I could ask you the same thing, you’ve been weird all night.”

  “Weird?”

  Willa laughs, reaching over to grab Riley’s hand and hold it between both of hers. With one finger she traces a line across Riley’s palm, but she never breaks eye contact, and with her hair down the way it is, it’s one
of those moments Riley is struck by how pretty her girlfriend is. And the fact that she has a girlfriend, kind of. One that she could just lean over and kiss whenever she wants.

  “I’ve been distracted. I’m sorry. If it helps, I was thinking about you.”

  ***

  She’s treading thin ice again. Somehow whenever they’re kissing or talking about it Willa always feels like she’s seconds away from ruining something. She’s always trying not to remind Riley that she’s a woman, but she’s tired of it, and she’s tired of tiptoeing around the issue. The issue here being that kissing is just the beginning of what she’d like them to be able to do.

  It’s either that or talk about the fact that Riley has three weeks to make her decision, and they’re sure not going to do that.

  “You don’t have to think about me,” Riley says, but she’s bushing like she knows where this is going, “I’m right here.”

  “Yeah.”

  Willa takes the risk and keeps Riley’s hand in one of hers when she leans over to kiss her neck. She slips her other hand into Riley’s hair, and gets a sigh in return as Riley pushes her own textbook away and grabs Willa’s shoulder with her free hand. Instead of lowering Riley onto the couch, Willa herself falls backwards, leaving her hands the way that they are, knotting their fingers together. Riley looks down at her wide-eyed, lips parted, hair falling over her shoulder, and Willa finds it in herself to continue the conversation, even though she’s terrified of the backfire.

  “This is where it usually ends.”

  Riley doesn’t say a word. Willa takes this to mean that she’s not sure she really gets it.

  “With all our clothes on,” she elaborates, and Riley turns pink, but she doesn’t move.

  “Yeah,” she agrees instead, very quietly, as if she’s afraid to startle a wild animal.

  Willa strokes her hand through Riley’s hair, then lifts her head for a kiss. To her honest surprise, Riley kisses back, if hesitantly, and squeezes her hand, and follows the kiss down.

  “I said at the beginning that I didn’t want to rush things and I meant it. I don’t want to rush things, but I also don’t want to lie and not- not make it really clear that I would do more than this with you, if I thought it was what you wanted.”

  “I’m not a virgin,” Riley blurts, and then goes from pink to red and hides her face in Willa’s shoulder. Willa has to fight the urge to laugh, but she does, just quietly grins about it and takes her hand from Riley’s hair to rub her back until she decides to speak again, muffled by Willa’s t-shirt.

  “I just don’t know what I’m doing with- with a woman.”

  “You’re with me, first of all, not some rando, and second of all, I can teach you. Just- don’t be so self-conscious. You’ll do great.”

  “I’m not ready,” Riley says, and Willa kisses the side of her head, really suddenly filled with a kind of tenderness she didn’t expect.

  “I wasn’t asking you to be ready. We can take it as slow as you want. If you don’t want to do anything more than kiss me tonight, we won’t do anything more than kiss.”

  ***

  Riley sits up and pulls her shirt over her head before she has time to be nervous about it.

  She rests her hands on her thighs and waits for a reaction. It doesn’t come right away; Willa just stares at her for longer than what’s comfortable, but the wait is worth it. The smile that eventually comes is worth it. It’s a different smile than the ones she’s seen before, like there’s something more behind it, something that makes her stomach flip. She’s not nervous anymore, just curious as to what Willa would look like with her shirt off.

  Riley is only aware of biting her lip to keep from saying anything once Willa’s eyes flick up to them, but the second she lets her lips go Willa’s eyes are back on her chest. This part is familiar, this sense of power, like she has something worth wanting, like she’s attractive and wantable, because she is. She just usually isn’t reminded until she takes some article of clothing off. Willa’s speechless, or something, for the first time since Riley’s known her. She keeps trying to make eye contact- trying to be polite, probably- but every time her eyes fall again Riley feels a little bit better.

  “Now you,” she prompts gently, and almost laughs out loud at the look on Willa’s face.

  She sits up too, and their noses bump. Riley scoots back so that she’s straddling Willa’s thighs instead of her hips and that’s enough room. Willa scrambles to pull her shirt over her head, and Riley thinks of helping a little too late. She helps get the shirt over Willa’s head and then it’s gone and there’s plenty to distract her from thinking too hard.

  She’s drawn to touch Willa’s shoulders, so she does. Her hands travel over muscle and bone and skin that she somehow didn’t expect to be so smooth, and Willa lowers herself back onto the couch, taking Riley with her. Her hands are on Riley’s hips and have never felt bigger- but in a good way. In a comforting way. In a way that makes her want those hands on her some more, and she’s done being self-conscious about it.

  She braces herself with one hand on the couch and with the other she drags her fingertips across Willa’s collarbone, fascinated. When she gets her wits about her enough to look up and catch Willa’s eye, the look on her face draws her up and into a kiss like one she’s never felt before. Their bare stomachs press together, Willa adjusts to get her arm more completely around Riley’s waist, and all of a sudden she finds herself on her back with Willa hovering over her, balanced between her legs.

  Willa lifts one hand, then hesitates and makes eye contact again. Her hair’s falling over her shoulders and Riley isn’t sure where to put her hands.

  “Can...is it okay if I…?”

  Instead of answering, Riley nods. Willa touches her over her bra, which is just a standard pink Aerie number. Even though the little bit of padding and the satin Riley can feel the pressure of Willa’s thumb- gentle, but there. She can feel a sound building in her throat like the one from before, and she closes her eyes and presses her head back against the couch cushion in an attempt to stifle it. Willa leans down and kisses her neck, and then it’s hopeless. She moans, then bites her lip so hard she feels like she’s going to split it, mortified.

  Willa keeps kissing her neck. Unsurprisingly she’s also better at this than the boys Riley has been felt up by before, who had more or less just done a lot of fumbling and squeezing, which is fine but not like this. Not like whatever Willa’s doing. Riley wraps an arm around Willa’s neck and rests her other hand sort of awkwardly on Willa’s hip, above her jeans, unsure of what to do and distracted by the scrape of Willa’s teeth over her neck.

  Willa takes her hand away from Riley’s breast just to grab the hand resting on her hip and reposition it. Riley sucks in a breath and freezes, her hand over Willa’s bra, Willa’s hand over hers, and Willa grins.

  “Don’t freak out.”

  “I’m not,” Riley replies, but it’s just a breath and she’s not really making her point. She clears her throat and tries it again: “I’m not freaking out.”

  “Good. Don’t. Congrats on second base.”

  “Shut up,” Riley laughs, but all her tension from before is gone now. Willa’s good at that, at noticing when she’s anxious and making it go away, and Riley doesn’t know if it’s conscious or not but it’s one of the best things about this, about them. About Willa. Willa, who goes back to kissing her neck, moving up to her jaw and sliding her hand along Riley’s ribs. For a second it’s as if she’s going to reach for Riley’s jeans, but she doesn’t even try, just presses her nose against Riley’s ear and lets out a breath. It’s only then that Riley notices what her hand is doing.

  When she notices and thinks about it, she becomes awkward and has to really focus. She tries to remember what Willa had done, twists her wrist a little so that she can use her thumb against Willa over her sports bra and realizes she’s done something right when Willa’s lips skim over her ear. She does it again and this time it’s teeth instead of
lips, and she can’t help but arch up, pressing their bodies together again.

  “You learn fast,” Willa laughs, reaching for Riley’s hand and taking it away from her so that she can knot their fingers together.

  “I can learn faster,” Riley replies, and surprises even herself how much she means that promise.

  ***

  The deadline closes in on Riley like a noose. It’s cliché but it’s how she feels, waffling between decisions while time ticks on. When she’s with Willa she never doubts herself anymore, doesn’t think even for a second that she might not be good enough to make it. When she’s with Willa the draft doesn’t seem like a question, it seems like an answer, but the moment she’s alone she’s just Riley, and all the doubts come back.

  Willa doesn’t try to talk to her about it again. Riley knows better than to think Willa’s forgotten or doesn’t know when the deadline is- she’s just smart enough and kind enough to let her work it out on her own. The night before the deadline she hovers over the link to send in the application for almost ten minutes before she closes her laptop and burrows under the covers. She had until noon. She knows that. Some part of her holds onto that- she has until noon the next day to decide, so she puts it off again and puts herself to sleep.

  CHAPTER SIX

  At ten in the morning, Willa texts her good morning. Riley’s been awake since eight, pacing quietly while Courtney snores across the room, blankets over her head like always. Her computer is open on her bed, open to the ‘submit application’ page that she hasn’t touched for at least twenty minutes.

  As far as her parents know she’s not even considering doing anything that would conflict with national team camp. To them it’s never been a long shot that she’d get called in, just like Quentin has always just assumed, because she’s always been good enough before, hasn’t been cut from a team since middle school. The only person who knows the uncertainty she’s feeling is Willa, and Riley can’t help but feel like Willa’s pushing her in one direction out of regret over her own decision.