Page 118 of Girls Night
“Yep. Sure did. Pissed as hell, too.” I winced at the sting from the ice pack as I placed it against my hot cheek and the bone at my temple, eyeing Mia, wondering what she would do next. Her energy was wild right now, something I’d never seen in her before.
“But I’m done,” I assured her. “I left. I got my shit. He’s passed out, I’m safe.”
“And then what? When he wakes up? Are you really… are you leaving then?”
We stared at each other, my heart aching, her eyes searching. I wanted to stay. Withher. But I knew it wouldn’t last, wouldn’t work. She and I were from two different worlds, and I’d be damned if I would be beholden to her for anything other than friendship. I wasn’t a user or a squatter.
“There’s a place,” I explained, “that helps prostitutes get on their feet, a safe place…”
“Magdalene House.”
Shocked, I nodded. “Yeah. How do you know about it?”
“A friend of mine is involved with the project, and it’s one of the causes I support monthly.”
“Really? Well,” I moved the ice pack to my jaw, “I guess that makes sense. You’ve helped me out and other girls before.” I tried to smile but it hurt too much.
“Let me make a few phone calls, if you’ll let me. We can work this all out tomorrow. Will you let me help you at least with that?” She sat down next to me and kissed my head. I leaned into her with a sigh.
“Yeah. I will.”
“I have some ibuprofen I want you to take, but you’ll need to eat something first. I’ll make you a sandwich, then how about a hot bath?”
God, she made my toes curl. Her sweetness was something I still wasn’t used to. “Sounds great, Mia. Thank you,” I whispered, on the verge of stupid tears.
She kissed my head again and left me alone with my broken face and happy heart.
* * *
“So why birds?” I asked Mia. We were sitting up in her big, poofy bed, Mittens at our feet sleeping soundly. It was late, and I was warm and content, snuggled against Mia, who was rubbing Mittens with her toes.
She let out a laugh and started to blush. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”
I nudged her with my foot. “No I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, she told me about a girl she had a crush on at summer camp back in middle school, the summer before starting high school. How the girl had broken Mia’s heart and shattered it. How it led to bullying and years of hell afterward. How being attracted to the same sex had been “viewed with disgust.”
My heart went out to her as she told me the story. It seemed that, even though our circumstances were much different, both of us shared being shunned by society, by the very people we had no choice but to be around every day, whether at school or work, even in our own families.
“I was so miserable when I came home that summer,” Mia went on. “Dad had put up with my moping long enough, he’d said, and sat me down, letting me talk it all out. He was proud of me, he said. Proud that I had the courage to tell the world who I was and what I wanted, no matter how different others were. That I was only sad because I had chosen the wrong bird.”
I frowned, not getting it. “Wrong bird?”
She smiled and turned to me. “Everyone has their own bird in life, sometimes a group of birds or a trio, but mostly that one special bird. When you find your bird, the one just meant for you, together you can fly. Adaline, the girl at summer camp, wasn’t my bird.”
Her eyes held mine, their blue depths like the ocean. Something fuzzy filled my heart and I reached over to kiss her, taking her bottom lip into my mouth. “Thank you.”
“For what?” she whispered, her breath catching.
“For opening up to me. Sharing that. I hate sharing stuff about myself. And I think you do too. Thank you for trusting me.”
She kissed me back, then looked at me, her dainty eyebrow raised. “So you don’t think it’s stupid? What my Dad said?”
“I think it’s beautiful. I think you’ll find your bird, Mia.
