Page 13 of Deliverance

“You just don’t seem like the type.” I shrug.

“Is that bitchinese for ‘you don’t dress in designer labels, so I don’t expect you to have nice things?’”

“It’s not just the clothes,” I defend.

Maggie lets out a humorless laugh as she shakes her head. Grabbing a frozen bottle of water from the freezer and bringing it to me, she presses it against my head a little harder than necessary.

“Ow.” I wince as I take it from her.

“Sorry,” she says in a tone that isn’t all that sorry.

“You don’t know me, baby B. Not like you think you do, at least.”

“Don’t call me that,” I say with a wrinkle of my nose.

“Aw why? My dear sister doesn’t like it?” she teases.

“Don’t call methat.” I amend. “We’re stepsisters, due to my father’s horrible decision making.”

“And my mother’s whorish ways.” Maggie adds on.

I let out a short laugh in agreement as I nod.

“Do you know the judgment I’m getting by having the town’s lesbian as a sister?” I scoff, regretting my words as soon as they slip past my lips.

To be honest, she’s not terrible, at least not as terrible as I thought she would be. She did just help me when she didn’t need to and made me breakfast the other morning after I slapped her. She’s kinda nice and I’m being a cunt, per usual, I guess.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t react. She just shrugs and takes a step back.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”

She holds up a hand for me, shaking her head with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“No biggie. I’m used to it. For clarification, though, I’m definitely not the only queer member of Salem. Just because I’m comfortable in my sexuality doesn’t mean there aren’t others, but they stay in the closet or hide who they are because of shit like that,” she says, pointing to me with a sad shrug.

I go to apologize again when she slips out of the tent, her combat boots stomping back in the direction we came from.

Chapter Five

Maggie

I don’t know why what Bridgette said bothered me. I’m used to prejudice. Our society was practically founded on it. Our country thrives on it. Judgement is just the tip of the iceberg that anyone perceived as ‘different’ faces. Usually, the looks, the comments, the slurs, it all rolls off my back. It’s three hours later, though, and I can’t get her words out of my head.

I feel the girl’s lips run up and down my neck, moving down to my cleavage as I do my best to push Bridgette out of my head.

“Want to head to bed?” she purrs into my ear.

I pull back to look at her, giving her a smile as I lace my fingers through hers. Normally, I don’t dip outside our ‘pool.’ It’s a preservation thing. The Brethren highly frowns upon it. She was beautiful, though, and she approached me. I was basically powerless.

It doesn’t take us long to get back to my tent, and I’m surprised to see Bridgette passed out on the couch.

“Is that the girl who got her shit rocked?” the girl asks me. Fuck, I wish I remembered her name.

“Yeah, my stepsister,” I say.

“Oh fuck. I’m sorry. She good?”

“Yeah, she’s fine.”

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