Page 67 of Our Secrets and Scars

“What do you wanna tell her?”

“I don’t know,” she says quietly, fingering the linen of my bedsheets. “I don’t not want to go.”

“But…” I prompt.

“But I’m not sure I’m ready to leave yet.”

“Here?” I feign confusion.

She tuts. “You.”

My lips twitch, spreading into a wide smile, and I can’t do a thing to stop it. But it’s hard not to feel the happiness radiating from me when, for so long, I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to have it.

There’s something about the gray stone walls of a prison cell that makes it impossible to imagine anything existing beyond them. The cage becomes the only future you can picture for yourself. The meals served on plastic plates are the only thing you can think of tasting again.

The life of an inmate is bleak, cold, and dire.

But Kinsley gave me hope when I was hopeless; she shone her light on me when all I could see was the dark. So, for her to be here now, in my bed, in my arms, telling me she doesn’t want to leave is like all my wishes coming true at once.

“I don’t want you to go either.” I drop a kiss to the top of her head and inhale the rich coconutty smell of her hair. “But if you want to, I won’t stop you.”

She shoots me a look of disappointment as if she wanted me to beg her to stay just so she wouldn’t have to make the decision herself. But then her eyes light up with an idea.

“What if you come with me?”

“To dinner?”

She nods. “I’ll tell her to bring her girlfriend too.”

“Like a double date?”

“Yeah, is that okay?”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed. Not about leaving the safety of our oasis, but because this will technically be our first date. I wasn’t expecting to share that experience with another couple, particularly one I don’t know very well.

But I can see on Kinsley’s face how much she’s hoping I’ll say yes. So, I push my feelings to the side and agree. And it’s worth it just to see the smile that she gives me in return.

Two hours later, Kinsley and I are squeezed side by side in a small booth in a diner on the east side of town. Opposite, Isla has her face buried into the neck of her girlfriend. Harriet, I think her name is, but we weren’t given much time for introductions before they started making out.

I shift in my seat, knocking Kinsley accidentally as I do so. The heaters in here are turned on too high to be comfortable, and I sweat against the clammy pleather of the gauche purple benches. Harsh light flickers above us, and a group of teenage girls on the other side of the diner are laughing too loudly.

But I love every second of it.

Because even though I’m too hot and the seating is cramped, even though the lights are giving me a headache and the company is arguably terrible, I’m grateful just to be here. To be experiencing it. To beliving.

Kinsley clears her throat, and Isla finally removes her lips from Harriet’s neck, her cheeks pink. At least she has the good grace to look embarrassed. Because so far, she’s done fuck all to make up for being a shitty friend to Kinsley, and frankly, it’s pissing me off.

“Sorry,” she says, smoothing down her creased clothes. “You ready to order?”

I look down at the menu in front of me, still undecided despite how long we’ve been sitting here. But the truth is, I’m intimidated by the number of options. For so many years, all my meals have been decided for me. I was told what I was eating and when I was eating it. It didn’t matter if I had a craving for something or didn’t like a certain food, the meal I was served was the only one I’d be having. Eat it, don’t eat it, I wouldn’t be getting anything else.

And even though I’ve been out for months now, I’m still not used to being able to choose for myself.

“You okay?” Kinsley asks, nudging me lightly with her arm.

I clear my throat and try to hide how overwhelmed I am. “Yeah, just don’t know what to have.”

She smiles gently, seeing straight through me. Shame on me for thinking that she wouldn’t.

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