Page 145 of Tricky Girls

‘You know that’s literally an ongoing process for everyone, right?’

‘Is it? You seem pretty sure of yourself.’

‘Then I’m a good faker.’ Cupping my head, she pulls it back so we’re eye to eye. ‘I know I’m a lesbian, yeah, but the rest of it…’ She purses her lips and shrugs. ‘Who fucking knows.’

I watch as she rolls onto her side, our knees gently touching. ‘What do you mean?’

‘My body.’ She runs a hand over her boobs. ‘I don’t like these. Never have. They don’t feel like me. They’re too big. Too…obvious. Does that make me a guy? No. But do I feel like a girl? Also no. But do I want to keep using she/her pronouns? Yeah, I do. That feels right.’ She flicks her sports bra with a finger. ‘I want to get rid sometimes. You know, once I’ve saved enough for top surgery. But then a girl touches them in bed, or I do, and it feels so good, so do I want to get rid of them really? It’s just a fatI don’t knowall of the time. That’s how you’re feeling, right? About this whole gay-or-not thing.’

I run my hand down her arm, eyeing her boobs so close to my face. It’s as easy to imagine her without them as it isn’t. So if I feel that way, no wonder she’s confused when it’s her own body. Maybe she’s right. Maybe we’re not meant to figure everything out. I feel like a different person every day, whilst desperately wanting to stay one thing and be confident in it.

‘I just like my brain being tidy. I like having boxes to put everything in. Nice little labelled boxes.’ I carry on stroking her arm, soothing myself as much as her. ‘I had an obsession with personality quizzes when I was in school. I liked being told who I was. It calmed everything—same feeling as when I cut myself. I used to feel awful every time they gave me an answer differentto the one I thought I was. Like, really used to tweak me out. So dumb.’

‘Ever take any gay ones?’

I smile. ‘No. Maybe I should have.’

‘I think you’re better off just going with the flow. Humans are messy. We’re not binary—in literally any way. If people got that humanity would be much better off, I swear.’

‘It’s all a spectrum,’ I murmur.

She kisses my forehead. ‘Exactly. Boxes are cool and all, but they’re not meant to be locked up tight forever. They’re meant to open, be unpacked and repacked in whatever packaging is good for that day. If all you know today is that you’re into guys, and you’re maybe into me, too, that’s fine. That’s a good box.’

‘A good box,’ I muse with a chuckle. ‘Thanks, Elly. That’s literally chilled me the fuck out.’

‘Yeah?’ She runs a gentle palm over my scars. ‘As much as these?’

‘More,’ I say quietly, peering into her kind eyes. ‘There’s nothing ugly about you that there is in that.’

‘As long as you don’t think you’re the thing that’s ugly.’ She cups my cheek and kisses my lips. ‘I don’t fully know the ins and outs of your brain yet. Something tells me you’re a bit of an onion. But I think you’re beautiful, Tilda. Inside and out. You fascinate me endlessly.’

I blow out a breath. ‘Fuck, Elly. Are things always this intense with lesbians?’

‘Literally. It’s a problem. But also my favourite thing about being one.’

‘I think it might be mine too.’ I return her kiss. ‘Can’t say my pillow talk’s ever been this riveting.’

Elly snorts. ‘I bet. Your ex didn’t seem the type.’

Yeah, that’s for sure. I try to remember what we did post-sex but come up kind of empty. There was banter. Laughter.Cuddling. More sex. No psychoanalysing though. That’s a new one.

‘You know the other night when you said ‘let’s not have you thinking’? Can you do that again, please?’ I close my eyes, sightlessly seeking her lips. ‘Everything’s quiet when you’re touching me.’

Elly rolls on top of me, pinning my arms above my head. ‘Apart from you.’

I tut, feebly struggling against her hold. ‘Dick. You only have yourself to blame for that.’

With her arms still holding mine, she kisses me. The type of kiss that tells me she’s about to get me back for my cheek. It might all be equal with Elly but she’s definitely still in charge in the bedroom. Even if I knew I was into girls the second I was born, I know it would still be her in charge. I like that. It’s where I’m comfortable, where it feels natural. And I know there’s power in being on the bottom. It was something I could wield even with Ryan, regardless of whether or not he knew I was wielding it.

‘I think I’d like for you to come again,’ Elly says into my ear.

‘I think I’d like that too.’

She noses my cheek. ‘Maybe with my fingers this time? Can I trust you to keep your hands up here?’

I curl my fingers round the headboard. ‘You can trust me.’

‘Good.’ She presses a lingering kiss to my cheek. ‘Knew I could.’

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