Page 17 of Last First Kiss
Her answer doesn’t loosen the knot in my stomach. If anything, it makes the knot pull tighter.
“Do you think we’re different with each other?” My heart races.
“Maybe a little.” Clara twirls a strand of her blue hair around her index finger.
“Really? In what way?”
“I think it’s because we’ve been friends forever, plus we’ve lived together for close to seventeen years. There’s a familiarity that comes from that alone. You walk into the bathroom while I’m showering to tell me about your day, because you just can’t wait. If it’s locked, you’ll use a bobby pin to unlock it. I don’t think you know the meaning of a locked door at this point.” Clara laughs. “I’ve never seen you do that with Valeria, Lily, or Isabella,” she says a little more seriously.
She’s right. There’s definitely a blur on boundaries between Clara and me. Ones I’d probably never cross with anyone else, not even our closest friends. But they don’t feel like a boundary with Clara.
“Do you hate that I do that?” I ask as a hollow sensation opens inside me. The last thing I’d ever want to do is make Clara uncomfortable, and thinking I did makes my heart drop.
“No,” Clara whispers, her honey-brown eyes going softer than I’ve ever seen them. “You know if I did, I would tell you.”
Her hand moves to my cheek, her fingers warm against my skin. The simple touch sends a wave of calm through me, something only Clara can conjure in me with just one touch. It’s amazing, really—how she can still the chaos inside me with nothing more than a single touch.
“Good,” I breathe.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never thought it was because you wanted to ... sleep with me,” she chokesout, quickly pulling her hand back as her cheeks turn bright red.
It’s kind of cute, seeing her blush at the thought. I never took her for the blushing type, especially not when it comes to sex, considering how often she has it.
“Iama little surprised that everyone seems to think there’s something more going on between us, but if I’m being honest, I guess I’m also notthatsurprised. We’ve been living together since seventh grade, and even when we had the chance to go our separate ways, we chose to become roommates in college. We’ve never lived with anyone else but each other. So I guess it makes sense that people would assume there’s something more.” Clara gulps. “Even when there isn’t.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, trailing off as I process everything she’s saying.
It makes perfect sense, especially considering our oldest argument—the one we’ve had since we could talk—always comes back to her being messy. And how much I struggle with sharing space with it. Well, not reallywithit ... more like against it.
“Or is there?” Clara asks, catching me off guard.
“What?” I ask, a nervous laugh tumbling out.
Clara smiles and shakes her head. “Nothing.” She reaches for my hand and caresses my palm as she asks, “Why is this bugging you so much?”
“It’s not that it’s bugging me. I love that people think I deserve someone as amazing as you. But there’s something about everyone acting as if us being together was inevitable that is making me feel like I’m missing something.”
“Something like what?”
“I don’t know, but they see something I don’t,” I say, rubbing my eyes until I see stars.
“It’s nothing,” she says as she settles more deeply into the couch. “We know where we stand; we’ve always known. Them saying they think we’re too flirty or too close doesn’t change that, right?”
I nod because I agree, but I wish I understood what everyone else seems to. What is it about me and Clara that makes peopleshipus so hard?
I’ve always known that people assumed we were together, or thought we were those typical lesbian exes who can’t seem to let go of each other, so we defaulted to being best friends.
One—or several—women have stopped dating me because they thought I was too close to Clara. Which was fine by me. I don’t want to date someone who’s weird about my closeness to one of the most important people in my life.
I’ve lost count of how many fights Mia and I had about Clara. Lily, Isabella, and Valeria came up as well, but Clara was the one she always came back to. After we broke up, I told myself I wouldn’t date anyone who couldn’t deal with how close I am to the girls, but especially to Clara. She’s my person, and I even have the tattoo to prove it.
Clara and I got them as soon as we graduated from high school. My mom made us both promise we’d wait until then. But we’d had the tattoo picked out since we were sixteen. And now, we both have a tattoo on our ribs. Mine says “You are” and Clara’s says “My person.” Both of them have an arrow pointing toward our ribs, so anytime we hug, we are pointing at each other.
I have two other tiny tattoos on my forearm, but even if I had a million, that one would still be my favorite.
“Unless you want it to,” Clara says softly, pulling mefrom my thoughts. Her gaze drops to the blanket around her.
I reach for her hand so fast that I barely register the movement. I give it a tight squeeze before saying, “Never.”
