Page 1 of Vying Girls
CHAPTER 1
Tilda
The sky is a sickly yellow, like an old bruise or a rotten apple about to burst. I raise my free hand, not the one clasped in Elly’s, to flutter it through the electric air. Everything smells, like damp pavements and mugginess. My whole body tingles.
‘Storms do something to me,’ I sigh.
Elly hums, eyes high on the spires of Hazelhurst Castle. On the centremost is a woman, clawing from the stone. She’s too high to make out any features, just a lonely silhouette. No one knows who she is. First time I saw her, I thought it was someone readying to jump. If lightning was going to strike anywhere, it would be there.
‘If our hair starts standing on end, we’re bailing. ASAP.’ Elly raises our joined hands, kissing mine. ‘Shit weather for tonight, not gonna lie.’
‘Yeah.’ I wrinkle my nose, feeling the first spate of raindrops. Waterproof mascara or nothing tonight.
We walk across the centre of campus, through the giant arch, once the castle drawbridge, to the courtyard beyond. The front doors are open, but with the sun being on the other side, the gaping mouth looks like a void. We enter anyway, our voices joining the echoey cacophony within.
Students walk the stone stairs, feet scuffing over the foyer. It’s always dim in here, the ceiling lights and wall sconces only offering paltry light. The quad is brighter. We keep to the cloister, the grass boggy from all the rainstorms we’re having.
Elly leans in and kisses my temple, heedless of the people all around us. It still thrills me. It’s like when I had my first boyfriend, aged ten, Year Six. How we held hands on the bench in assembly, hidden between our two thighs. Does everyone know I’ve never done this with a girl before? Probably not; they don’t care.Idon’t care. It’s still just new. Lovely, but new.
She’s in her corduroy jacket, the blue one I finally gave back. I like that I’ve worn it too. It’s like I’m hugging her every time she wears it. I squeeze her hand in both of mine, riding that wave of affection, my chest all tight and giddy.
She smiles at me, that bashful, twinkly-eyed one. The one I first mistook for shyness or overwhelm. It’s neither, just her, just Elly. Her hair’s a little longer in the front these days, tousled over her forehead. It only adds to her cute, roguish look.
I keep her warm hand clutched. It’s not as close as I want us to be. I slept in my own bed last night, alone apart from the ghost of the kiss she delivered whilst pressing me into my bedroom door. I’m always a little thirstier on those mornings, missing her touch.
And, god, do I love touching her—running my fingers through her tufty hair, stroking her soft belly, pressing my lips to her warm neck, feeling her pulse, her vitality. Always so hot, eager for any morsel I give her.
Tuesday night, I tongued her nipples, tracing the blue veins of her boobs. I thumbed the edges of her boxers, her skin damp and feverish. She’d writhed and gasped, pressing herself closer to my hand, wordlessly begging for more.
If we hadn’t been interrupted, if Haz hadn’t barged in looking for her phone, I would have slipped my fingers inside, finally sampling her heat.
Haz hadn’t left straight away, of course. A smile emerged at the sight of us tangled on the bed. She closed the door, leant against it, bade us to continue. Elly told her to fuck off, put on a t-shirt, and that had been that.
I remained on the bed, naked under the covers. Was it regret I felt? Had I wanted to carry on, to let Haz watch?
Whatever.
All I know is, the next time Elly and I fuck, I’m touching her.Allof her. I’ve made us wait long enough.
I flit my eyes over the cloister. ‘Where’s the other one?’
‘The dark and demonic one?’
A smile tugs at my lips. ‘I meant Haz, not Nic.’
Elly tuts, nudging me. ‘So did I. And I dunno. Maybe she’ll meet us in the theatre.’
The sun, just a weird white globe in the sky, looking more like the moon, disappears into a swathe of orange-grey cloud. It’s like night’s descended in one fell swoop, making me shiver with more than just the cold. Damn, I love storms. And it’s not even started yet.
I step over a crack on the path, careful not to crush the tiny blue flower there, a harbinger of spring. I hear a hiss to my rightand then a hand grabs me, pulling me into the shadows. Severed from Elly, a heavy body follows, pushing me into the stone.
A mouth descends on mine before I’ve even glimpsed who’s kissing me. I know it’s Haz though. I know her by her smell, the weight of her, how she pulls my hair, just this side of painful.
‘Fucking missed you,’ she says when we part. Always so intent when she says stuff like that, gauging my reaction, making sure I know how serious she is.
I move a black strand of hair off her face, falling into those severe eyes. ‘You saw me literally an hour ago.’
‘Longest hour of my life.’
