Page 13 of Burning Love

“But what about that hair? Seriously? She looks like she’s trying out for the football team. It’s gross if you ask me. She shouldn’t be allowed to come to class looking like that.”

She would pretend not to hear, but the words sliced through her like knives. She would feel the blood rushing to her neck and face every time she walked past a group of girls huddled together. They were poison. Especially that one… Jenna? Jenna Mayfield? Yeah, that was it. The name came back to her as clear as day. Whenever she crossed paths with Jenna and her little gang of mini-Jennas, she’d glance down at her worn sneakers, trying to make herself smaller. But Jenna’s mocking eyes would always find her.

One day, she’d made the mistake of confronting her bully. She’d stood in front of Jenna and said, “Hey, would you dare say that to my face?”

It hadn’t gone as she’d expected. Jenna had smirked, tilting her head in mock pity. “Um, yeah. No problem. Anyway, what’s your beef? It’s not like we’re lying. Everyone knows you’re a carpet muncher.”

The laughter that followed had cut Alex to the core.

Alex tried to shuffle into a more comfortable position, her butt cheeks cold against the concrete. She wiped her face, but the tears kept coming. The pain of those moments felt as raw now as it had then. She’d never told anyone what happened. Not her parents, not her teachers. Instead, she’d buried it deep, pretending none of it mattered. But it had forced her into hiding, even from herself. It had taught her to build walls so high that no one could see over them. Not much different from the compound she now found herself in.

Her parents had never suspected she was queer. Or if they had, they’d never said a word to her. She guessed they were old-school, a little on the conservative side, maybe more than a little. Her mom had said how strong and independent she was—and maybe that wasn’t a compliment—and had clearly worried that she never brought any friends back for sleepovers or ever asked for a lift to the mall. When it came to her dad, he had always just been pleased to have someone on hand to help fix things. And when she’d decided to follow in his footsteps and join the Army, he couldn’t have been more delighted. Alex knew the truth deep down. If she’d confided in either one of them, it would’ve broken them.

Joining the army had been the escape she needed. And she loved every minute of it. It was a way to prove herself, to channel her mistrust of others and her fear of who she really was into something useful. But even after a few years, as she began to climb the ranks, she still kept her distance from others. She did her best to remain professional at all times. She’d had one fleeting moment with a woman—a stolen kiss in the dark barracks, followed by a hurried moment of pleasure. The other woman had taken the lead, her hands sliding with confident urgency under Alex’s waistband. It was rushed, almost frantic, a blend of curiosity and unspoken need. The pressure built quickly as the woman’s touch grew bolder, drawing a soft, involuntary sound from Alex’s lips as she came. Moments later, Alex shuddered as she clung to the other woman for balance. Jade. That was her name. She’d lost her virginity in a matter of minutes to a woman she barely knew. Alex had never really processed it properly. She had also never allowed it to go any further. She never allowed herself for even a second to hope for more. It was easier that way. It was safer.

Alex leaned her head back against the wall, staring up at the dim lightbulb overhead.

Lightbulbs… Wow. I wonder how long they’ll last. I wonder if we have any spares.

The tears had slowed, but her chest still ached. Even now, when it was the end of the fucking world, she was still hiding. Still pretending to be this brave, strong woman. It was pathetic.

She thought about Sophia again. The way her smile caused a warm sensation to form in her belly and the way she moved with such quiet strength. Alex’s heart twisted painfully in her chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wanted something. She wanted to be close to someone, to let them see the parts of her she’d kept locked away. But the thought of actually opening herself up like that was too much to handle

“She’s probably not even a—” she whispered before cutting herself off, unable to actually say the wordlesbianout loud. “Oh, stop it, Alex. You’re stronger than this.”

But she wasn’t. Not when it came to this. Not when it came to anything even remotely verging on the idea of romance.

Her thoughts spiraled again, back to the compound. She knew the others must have assumed things about her. How could they not? She was as butch as they come. It wasn’t something she could hide, even if she wanted to. She’d accepted that part of herself long ago. But accepting it didn’t mean she was ready to do anything about it. She’d spent her whole life denying what she wanted. The question now was whether or not she knew how to stop.

Alex’s breath hitched as another wave of emotion crashed over her. She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to block it all out. The memories, the fear, the longing. She felt like she was coming apart at the seams, and there was no one there to catch her.

She thought about what Sophia had said earlier. The words replayed in her mind, over and over. Did she mean it? There’d been some flirting, hadn’t there? Or was she misreading the situation? Was it even possible for someone like Sophia to see something in Alex? Or was the girl just being sweet? Alex didn’t know. She’d spent so long second-guessing herself, pushing people away, that she didn’t know what to believe these days.

She felt like she could stay in this small room forever. But deep down, she knew she couldn’t keep running. She had tried to build up a wall to protect herself, but cracks were starting to appear. And Sophia was making her way through those cracks.

Alex’s hands fell to her lap. She looked down at them and felt ashamed of how rough and calloused they appeared. Hers were hands that had held weapons, worked the soil, scavenged, patched up walls, and bandaged the wounds of those she cared for. She realized that those hands had done so much but had never truly reached for what she wanted. She flexed her fingers. Maybe it was time to change that.

6

SOPHIA

The faint tang of yeast was making Sophia feel hungry. Despite working all hours in the compound’s makeshift bakery, she wasn’t allowed to eat any more than anyone else. Everything was rationed, and there wasn’t a morsel to spare. She kneaded the dough with care, her fingers pressing into the cool, moist mass in a steady rhythm. She felt pressure working under Ellen but never hurried. For this, she was grateful. The dough yielded under her touch, warming slightly from the heat of her hands. The morning sun, low in the sky, filtered through the worn canvas of the tent, casting her forearms in a watery light.

She could hear the sparrows outside as she continued to work her forearms, shaped by years of pliés and port de bras. How strange that her fingers, once trained to hold the elegance of a perfect fifth position, were now covered in calluses. Where had she disappeared to? Where was that refined grace of hers? Would she ever need it again? Probably not.

“Ellen?” she asked quietly, not wanting to irk the older woman. “Can you hear the birds? They’re starving.”

“Tough tits,” Ellen replied crudely. “You think I’ve got enough bread here to be feeding the goddam birds. Is that what you’re getting at, missy?”

“Not necessarily. But I’ve been thinking… There’s still a lot of life out there, right? Birds, wildlife… This infection thing hasn’t affected them.”

“And?”

“And that’s a good thing, right? It kind of makes me feel hopeful. Mother Nature is still going strong.”

“Huh? Hopeful? The entire human race is being wiped out, and you’re feeling hopeful?” Ellen snarled.

“That’s not really what I meant. And we don’t know that, Ellen,” she dared to continue. “It could just be in the States. Maybe everything’s just fine back home.”

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