Everything Changes

by Samantha Hale

  Morgan ignored her art nerd comment as she studied the painting. Raven watched her, charmed by the intensity of her focus, taking in the details, or admiring the technique, or whatever it was she was doing. Raven didn’t know for sure, and to be honest, she didn’t care. She didn’t understand art the way Morgan did, but she enjoyed watching her geek out over it.

  “You’re staring at me,” Morgan murmured as she turned back from the painting.

  “Yep.” Raven didn’t bother to hide or deny it. She couldn’t help it. Morgan was looking especially pretty tonight. Her dark green dress brought out the flecks in her eyes. She’d swept up her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck.

  She watched the corners of Morgan’s mouth fight off a smile for a moment before Morgan ducked her head, grinning, as her cheeks darkened. “Why don’t you stare at your menu?” Morgan mumbled. “And stop being creepy.”

  Raven laughed and gave Morgan’s hand a squeeze but obeyed, picking up her menu with her free hand and giving it a once-over.

  “Now who’s being creepy?” she asked a moment later. She glanced over the top of her menu and caught Morgan gazing at her. A rush of warmth spread through her entire body at the frank, unabashed stare from Morgan.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “This is the most amazing meal I’ve ever eaten,” Morgan said as she dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter. “But if I eat another bite, I’m going to explode.”

  “I know what you mean,” Raven said, admitting defeat. The spinach ravioli she’d ordered was delicious, but she’d been pushing the last few squares around for a while now, unable to eat anything else despite her attempts to clean her plate. “Too bad though, because I was really looking forward to dessert.”

  “Yeah. Me, too. Did you see the tiramisu?”

  Raven shook her head. “No. But I saw they had zeppole.” As much as she wanted something sweet, it would be too much right now. However, maybe if they took a walk they’d find a coffee shop and be ready for some dessert by then. It wasn’t that cold tonight, and she wasn’t ready for their date to end.

  When the check came, she grabbed it quickly, before Morgan could get a peek at the price. She felt Morgan’s eyes on her as she opened her wallet, so she schooled her face into a neutral expression, refusing to show any sort of reaction as she glanced at the total and then slid her “emergency” credit card along with the check back to the waiter.

  She was going to have to make sure she got to the mail before her parents did because if they saw this charge, they would flip. But despite the worried glances Morgan kept shooting her way, she wasn’t concerned about actually paying it off. She’d be back to work again in a few months. And no matter the cost, it was worth it.

  The waiter returned with her card and her receipt, which she signed with a flourish. Once they were alone again, she stood and offered Morgan a smile. “Shall we?”

  “You’re such a dork,” Morgan said with a roll of her eyes, but she stood and tucked her arm in the crook of Raven’s elbow. “Thank you for dinner. For tonight,” Morgan said softly as they made their way back through the restaurant to get their coats.

  A burst of pride had Raven standing up a bit straighter. All her stressing over this date had been for nothing. Morgan had liked the restaurant, the food had been good, and nobody had bothered them. She was getting the hang of this date thing…bringing flowers, holding doors. It was fun.

  Snow fell lightly when they stepped outside, but the temperature was still mild.

  “Still up for a walk?”

  Morgan nodded and took her hand, lacing their fingers together before starting down the street. Raven fell into step beside her, using their joined hands to pull Morgan closer until their shoulders were brushing.

  The snow fell steadily around them, a soft, shifting curtain that obscured the cars whizzing steadily past and muted the sounds of the shops around them closing up for the night. It created a cozy little world that existed just for the two of them.

  “When it snows like this, it makes me want to make snow angels.”

  “Go right ahead,” Raven replied, giving her a nudge in the direction of an undisturbed patch of snow in the alley between a dry cleaner and a deli.

  “In this dress? I’d freeze.”

  “You know I’d keep you warm.” Raven extracted her hand from Morgan’s grasp and wrapped her arm around Morgan’s shoulders, nearly tripping them both as their feet got tangled together.

  Morgan laughed lightly. “Seems more like you want to throw me into a snowbank.”

  Raven let out a gasp. “I would never.”

  “Uh-huh.” Morgan shook her head and gave her a wide berth as they continued down the sidewalk. Raven reached for her only to have her hand batted away. She lunged, catching Morgan around the waist and propelling them forward. Rather than throw Morgan into a snowbank, she guided her into the recessed doorway of a bakery, backing her against the wall and then pressing up against her as she tilted her head to capture Morgan’s lips in a kiss.

  Morgan’s body sagged against hers, and her hands relaxed their grip on her arms, falling away momentarily before coming to rest at the small of her back, bunching up fabric of her jacket as she pulled her in closer.

  When they parted, she was breathless. She never knew kissing could feel like this until Morgan, and now she couldn’t get enough. A little light-headed, she leaned in once again.

  It was Morgan who pulled away the second time. “God, Raven.” Her voice hitched on the last syllable as her head dropped down into the crook of Raven’s shoulder. She shivered at the sensation of Morgan’s breath washing across the skin above the collar of her jacket and felt Morgan chuckle into her neck at the reaction.

  “Want to head back?” Morgan suggested. “We could grab some dessert from the cafeteria, go up to my room, and continue this somewhere a little warmer. And without bricks digging into my back.”

  “Sorry about that.” She brushed a soft kiss to Morgan’s temple and then stepped back. She took Morgan’s hand in her own and guided them both out of their little alcove.

  “So, I have a question for you,” Morgan said a few minutes later. “You know my art show’s coming up.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I’d really like it if you’d come.”

  “You’d really want me there?” she asked, unable and unwilling to do anything about the grin threatening to crack her cheeks.

  “Of course I want you there,” Morgan said, giving her hand a little tug so their shoulders bumped together. “You’re my girlfriend and this is an important night for me.”

  “I know. And I’d be honored.”

  “Even though you hate art?”

  “I don’t hate art. I just don’t understand it the way you do.”

  “Good,” Morgan said, a grin lighting up her face. “I’m so glad you won’t be bored. I just want everyone to have a good time.”

  “Everyone?”

  Morgan nodded. “Yeah. I invited Jules, Cindy, and Liv, and a few others. I sent an invite to my parents, but I know they won’t be able to make it.”

  “Wait—your friends are coming?”

  Morgan’s grin faded into a frown as she came to a stop, and she tugged Raven around gently to face her. “Yes, my friends are coming. This art show is a big deal, and I want the people I care about to be there.”

  Raven understood that, she really did. It was just…did Morgan understand what she was asking? Did she grasp how hard it would be for Raven to be there at that art show amongst all of Morgan’s friends? She wasn’t ready for that. She just couldn’t do it.

  She opened her mouth, then let it fall shut again when no words came out. Apparently, none were necessary.

  Morgan’s jaw tightened. “Really, Raven? I mean, we’re on a date, in public. We’ve made progress, or at least I thought so.”

  “I’m sorry.” The words were hoarse, her voice cracking on the last syllable.

  “Wow.” Morgan huffed o
ut a sigh. “We just talked about this,” Morgan said. “And I’m not even asking you to come and hold my hand or anything. I’m not going to kiss you in front of everyone. I’m asking you to come, as my friend, and you can’t even do that for me?

  Raven wanted to, but just the thought of it set her heart hammering. They weren’t just friends. When she was near Morgan, the desire to be next to her, to touch her, to kiss her was just so strong. She didn’t think she would be able to hide it around other people.

  Morgan tugged her hand, trying to extract her fingers from Raven’s grasp. She tried to tighten her grip and link them back together, but Morgan shook her off and took a step back.

  “Morgan, wait. I—”

  “No.” Morgan held up a hand. “I knew, going in, that you were struggling. But I thought if we took things slowly, you would start to feel more comfortable. And you’ve come a long way. You have. But I can’t be with someone who won’t even acknowledge me in public.”

  Raven had no defense because she knew Morgan was right.

  “I need a little more time,” Raven said,

  “How much longer?” Morgan asked. “A week? A month? A year?”

  She opened her mouth to answer and then realized she had none to give.

  Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she didn’t even attempt to stop them from falling. She let them spill over onto her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Morgan.”

  Morgan nodded and offered a small, sad smile. “Me too.”

  The tears fell faster as Morgan made no move to comfort her.

  “I’m going to walk back,” Morgan said as she shoved her hands deep into her jacket pockets and shifted in place. “It’s only a few blocks.”

  She nodded once, briskly, and wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket.

  With one last sad smile, Morgan turned and started down the block.

  Raven stood rooted in place, watching until she rounded the corner.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  The drive home passed in a blur. She kept her eyes focused on the road, refusing to let herself think about what had just happened, but the tears kept pooling in her eyes, obscuring her vision until she managed to blink them away. Somewhere in the back of her head she knew she shouldn’t be driving right now, but she just wanted to get home, and get out of this dress that reminded her of Morgan.

  By the time she made it, her jaw ached from the tension of holding back sobs. A few more minutes, and she’d be free to let it all out. She parked in the garage and came in through the side entrance, avoiding both the kitchen and the living room to escape upstairs unseen by her parents. Once in her room, she flung herself down onto her bed, face buried in her pillow, and let the tears fall in earnest.

  A few minutes later, a knock sounded on the door and she tensed, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to hold back a sob.

  “Raven, honey?” It was her mother. “We’d like to talk to you.”

  “Uh, just a minute,” she called out as she wiped hastily at her eyes. “I’m…I’m changing.”

  She rolled off the bed and shimmied out of her dress, letting it pool on the floor without a single concern of it getting wrinkled or dirty. It’s not like she’d ever wear it again. She riffled quickly through her dresser drawer for a pair of sweats and an old T-shirt, pulling them on hastily before tying her hair back into a loose ponytail to hide the curls, and then flopped back down onto her bed.

  “Okay, you can come in,” she called as she settled against the pillows, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

  The door creaked open and her mother’s face peeked into view.

  “What’s wrong?” Raven asked, noticing the furrow in her mom’s brow as she stepped fully into the room. Her heart beat faster, pounding in her ears over the ensuing silence. “Guys?” She heard the worried note in her tone as they approached the bed, her mother taking a seat on the edge beside her and her father leaning against the windowsill to her left.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” her mother said softly as she reached out and laid her hand over Raven’s. “But we’re worried about you. You’ve been acting different lately, and we were wondering if something’s going on.”

  “I’m fine,” she replied automatically.

  “You’ve been distant and distracted lately,” her father said. “Clearly, you’re not fine.”

  “Are you having problems at school?”

  She glanced over at her mother and then down at the hand on her arm, squeezing tenderly. “School’s fine. You saw my midterm grades. They’re all good.”

  “What about the kids at school? Are you…getting along with everyone?”

  “I’m not being bullied, Mom.” As much as she appreciated their concern, she really did not want to be having this conversation right now.

  “You’re friends haven’t been around much. Are you guys fighting?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s going on?” her father asked.

  “Nothing is going on. Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” Raven insisted, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes at the lie. Nothing was fine. She was falling apart. Her world had been turned upside down, and she’d lost the one person who’d made it seem like everything might still be okay. She’d been dumped for the first time, and she couldn’t even tell anybody, because nobody knew she’d been in the relationship in the first place.

  “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

  Raven let out a laugh, even though there was nothing remotely funny about the question. She saw her parents exchange a concerned glance and bit her lip, quelling her reaction. “I’m not pregnant,” she said firmly.

  “Is it…have you gotten involved in drugs?”

  “Oh my God, Mom!”

  “We’ve been watching you struggling for the past few weeks,” said her dad, “and we can’t do it anymore.”

  “Raven?” She glanced up into her mother’s pleading eyes, and she felt some of her resolve break. “Whatever it is, we can help you.”

  They couldn’t.

  There was no way they could help her with this.

  But she was just so tired. Keeping secrets was exhausting. Maybe it would be all right to tell them. Maybe they wouldn’t freak out, wouldn’t disown her. Maybe her mom would hold her and tell her everything was going to be all right, and that she’d find somebody else someday. It all seemed too much to hope for, yet within her grasp at the same time. In the end, she told them the only thing she could…

  “I’m gay.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  The silence that followed was deafening, and Raven wished she could take it back. Because one glance at her parents revealed that it had been the exact wrong thing to say. From the shell-shocked expression and tears in her mother’s eyes, to the anger flashing across her father’s face, she knew they would rather she were pregnant or addicted to drugs.

  Anything but what she actually was.

  “Absolutely not,” her father said, his voice calm and even, which was worse than when he was angry and yelling.

  “I know dating can be difficult, especially at your age,” her mom said softly, “but giving up is not the answer.”

  “What? You think…it’s not because I haven’t been able to find a boyfriend. I don’t like boys.”

  “You’re a late bloomer, like my sister,” her mom said. “She didn’t date seriously until college.”

  “Are you even listening to me?” Raven didn’t know why she was pushing this. Clearly, they weren’t going to accept this, accept her. The best thing to do would be to shut up, agree to whatever excuses they made, and pretend this conversation had never happened. But she couldn’t seem to make herself do that. Instead, she found herself sitting there, trying to make her parents understand.

  “I don’t like boys,” she repeated. “I like girls. I’m attracted to girls.”

  “You’ve always been a tactile person,” her mother said. “And I know how girls are, especially these d
ays, hugging, kissing, holding hands. I can see how you’d confuse affection for attraction. But one day, you’ll meet the right guy and you’ll see the difference.”

  “God, Mom. Do you hear yourself? Do you realize how you sound?” She paused for an answer. None came. “I’m not saying I’m gay because I’m lonely and I like how it feels when my friends hold my hand. You wanted to know what’s been bothering me the last few weeks. Well, I need you to listen to what I’m telling you.” She slid off the bed, unable to be still any longer with all this built-up tension inside her. She shifted uneasily at the foot of the bed, trying to catch her parents’ eyes, but neither of them would look directly at her.

  “I’m gay. I’m attracted to girls. I like to hug them and hold their hands and kiss them, but it’s more than that. It’s not just physical.” She saw them flinch at her words, but now that she had started, she couldn’t stop. “And it freaks me out, too. I denied it. I ignored it. I pretended I felt like all my friends do. But it’s just here”—she laid a palm over her chest—“inside me, and I can’t do anything about it.” She pleaded with them to understand.

  Her father’s gaze remained stony as he stared at a point somewhere over her shoulder. Her mother fingered the silver cross hanging around her neck as her gaze held steady on the bedspread beneath her.

  “We can take you to talk to someone about this. Maybe Dr. Jordin can recommend—”

  “A doctor can’t fix this, Mom. It’s not like when you get the flu. There’s no antibiotic that’ll take away the gay.”

  “Don’t take that tone with your mother,” her father snapped. “We’ve raised you better than this.”

  “Better than what? Talking back or being a lesbian?”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m not saying this to upset you. I never wanted to disappoint you. I tried not to be gay, but it just got to be too much. Morgan said—”