An Unstill Life (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

B
ianca gave the doors at the end of the corridor a savage kick that sent them flying open, bashing against the walls behind. The sound echoed through the hallway, bilious and muddy—green.

“Bianca.” I squeaked through the doors just as they swung closed again, narrowly missing getting whacked in the face. “Stop. Please.”

She kept moving, her long legs chewing up the space between her and the main exit. I sped up, chasing her down the steps and onto the street beyond. Skipping out of school was becoming a habit.

“That bitch!” Bianca stopped at the corner and turned to face me, shoving fingers of black hair back off her face. “That fucking bigoted sow. I can’t believe her. And we weren’t even going to go to her stupid dance.”

“Uh…” I ducked my head and opened up the biology text I still had clutched to my chest. The two pieces of embossed card looked tiny and insignificant against the page. “I bought these.”

Bianca peered at the tickets, reached over and fingered one, then looked at me with questions in her eyes. “I thought you…”

“I know.” I cut her off. “But I walked past the table, and I just really wanted to go with you. So I bought them. I wanted to surprise you. Um…surprise?”

She smiled then, anger dropping away. “I guess this wasn’t the way you wanted me to find out, huh?”

“It
was
dramatic, you have to admit.” I smiled back.

“Hell, it might get us expelled.” Bianca laughed.

“Excommunicated.”

“Banished!”

We collapsed against a tree, howling with laughter. It wasn’t funny. The last thing I needed was to get expelled. Without the structure school gave me, I could sense my life spinning out of control. Or more out of control. I didn’t feel that on top of things anyway.

When the laughter died away into the odd suppressed giggle, we walked down the street, leaving the school behind us.

We went to my house. I unlocked the back door, blowing on my cold fingers.

“You want tea or something?” I filled the kettle and switched it on.

“Coffee?” Bianca dropped her things on the table.

I crossed the room and rummaged through the pantry. “You might be lucky… Do you do instant?” I pulled out an ancient jar of Nescafe, giving it a doubtful look as I unscrewed the lid.

Bianca wrinkled her nose. “Tea’s fine. No milk.”

I busied myself with the cups and teabags, needing to keep moving. If I stood still, if I stopped, it would all crash down on me. The anger, hurt and humiliation. Mrs. Wolfson’s words still echoed around my head in flashing lights, each pulse pressing a button that made the lava in my stomach geyser upward into my throat.

Bianca stepped up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. I leaned into her, shaping my body so it curled against hers, every piece of me finding its place. Something powerful and dangerous arced between us, bringing every inch of my skin to life. Even the soft whisper of her breath across the back of my neck made my flesh quiver.

I jumped away when the back door swung open and Mom burst into the room, my hip thudding into the counter hard enough to make the mugs chatter against each other. “Oh! Hi, Mom.”

“Olivia.” Her voice was as cold and hard as granite and a similar shade of gray.

“How’s Jules doing today?” I tried to pour water over the teabags, but my hands shook so much I ended up watering the counter instead. Liquid ran over the edge and rained onto the floor in a series of lavender splashes.

“I’m not here to talk about your sister. Now sit down. Bianca, is that your name? You go on home now.” Mom didn’t even glance at her, just made a dismissive gesture with her hand, as if she were shooing out a dog or something.

Bianca didn’t cringe. She leaned over and gathered up her belongings from the table, gliding toward the door without a sound. I moved to follow her, but Mom’s hand clamped down on my wrist and jerked me back. Her bony fingers bit into me with bruising force. I tried not to remember Jesse’s hands, but the image flashed before my eyes, tormenting me.

“See ya,” Bianca’s low voice chased the visions away. She whipped out the door so fast she almost caught the end of her long draped skirt as she pulled it closed.

I tried to jerk away from Mom, but her grip grew stronger. “Bianca!”

“Sit.”

I sat. Under my skin I was aware of every muscle tensing, ready to spring into action if need be. My nerves thrummed, but the feeling wasn’t good like it was when Bianca touched me. This was more like an electric current, powerful and dangerous as it coursed through my flesh.

Mom sat across from me. “Why did I get a phone call from your principal today?”

My heart screamed out of my chest and lodged in my throat with choking force. I coughed, but the lump didn’t loosen.

“Well?” Mom’s fingers tapped a tattoo across the tabletop. I focused on it, counting the beats and watching the bright orange sounds scorch her fingertips. “I only got a part of the message, but what I gather is that you and your…your…friend, have launched some kind of crusade at school?”

“What?” I stared at her. A crusade? What kind of crap was that?

“Did you or did you not make some kind of scene about going to the Winter Formal?” Mom’s eyes blazed into me, cutting at my flesh like a laser.

“It wasn’t a scene.” I hated the way my voice sounded, weak and wavering, scared. “They said we couldn’t go.”

“So you won’t go. That’s that.” Mom slammed her hands down on the table so hard the noise made me want to vomit, the explosion of colors so muddy and vile. “Honestly, Olivia. I don’t know what’s gotten into you. As if it wasn’t hard enough right now, with your sister sick. The last thing we need is you humiliating us with this floozy.”

My jaw tightened, and I clamped my teeth together to keep the screaming inside. “She’s not a floozy,” I managed to say, the words forced out through the bars of my teeth.

Mom made a dismissive gesture, her eyes far away now, an almost dreamy look on her face. “Jules was the Snow Queen last year, remember? She was so beautiful in that white dress.” A smile came across her face, maybe picturing Jules the way I now was, in her sheath-like white gown, the tiara of rhinestones glittering on her head.

The smile dropped away, and her eyes sharpened to points as they focused on me again. “You are not to attend that dance. You are not to overshadow your sister’s achievements with your foolishness. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” I nodded sullenly. Was winning some stupid popularity contest really an achievement? Was that all Jules was to Mom? And how could my going to the dance overshadow anything Jules did the year before? I’d never overshadowed Jules in my life. How could I, when I was Jules’s shadow, the watery reflection of her that could be dissolved with one well-placed pebble? I gritted my teeth so my thoughts wouldn’t spew from my mouth.

“Good.” Mom got up from the table and moved toward the sink. “Now, you need to go back to school and apologize to your principal. I don’t want to hear any more about this foolishness.”

I got up, grateful to have been dismissed. I walked out into the hallway, hot tears pulsing behind my eyes. It was never going to change. Nothing I did would ever be enough. If Jules died… No, I corrected myself,
when
Jules died, where would that leave me? I wouldn’t even exist anymore.

Dragging myself up to my room, I tried to focus on something else. Anything else. I needed something to hold on to, something to make me feel solid and present.

Bianca.

Her face in my mind was so vivid I stopped, one foot hovering above the step. With her I was real. With her I existed, was important, maybe even necessary. I was tired of being a shadow or a ghost.

I grabbed a duffel bag off the floor of my closet and started stuffing things into it, not caring if the clothes were clean or dirty. I had to get out. I couldn’t stay here anymore. I slung the bag over my shoulder and headed back down the stairs.

Mom was still sitting in the kitchen. A mug of tea sat on the table before her, steam curling into the air. I snatched my book bag off the floor without a word and, shrugging on my coat as I shouldered it, opened the door, and left. I closed the door hard behind me, liking the harsh bolts of black that came with the slamming sound. Without looking back, I turned down the street and headed for Bianca’s. As I did, the first fat, heavy drops of rain began falling, darkening the sidewalk in thick, irregular blotches.

The rain pounded around me as I ran up the short driveway to Bianca’s back door. The street lamps had come on and lit the way. Bloated raindrops glimmered like jewels in the harsh sodium glow. I hesitated a moment before knocking. The darkness beyond the door was unforgiving. But then I remembered my mother’s face and my hand rose on its own to rap against the glass.

Lights flicked on, and Bianca’s face appeared in the window. She recognized me and threw the door open.

“Livvie? What are you doing here?” She took my arm and pulled me into the warmth of the kitchen. I hadn’t realized until that moment how cold I was. My teeth rattled together, and shivers rocked my body.

“Mom—” I couldn’t manage anything more. Water sluiced from my hair and dripped against the polished wooden floor.

Bianca paled and her jaw tensed, eyes narrowing a little as she studied my face. “What did she do?”

I shrugged. “The same.” But it wasn’t. What she’d said was worse than anything she’d pinned on me before. “I can’t stay there.”

“No.” A determined expression crossed her face, and her jaw jutted upward. “You can stay with me. For as long as you need to. Mom won’t mind. She likes you.”

Relief weakened my knees, and for a moment I thought I’d melt into a puddle matching the one growing on the floor beneath me.

“Do we need to get any of your stuff?” Bianca reached out and touched my shoulder, the warmth of her hand jolting through me.

I shook my head and gave her a shy, sheepish smile. “I brought some things. I left them by the mailbox.” I’d hoped she’d take me in. I’d been almost certain she would, but I couldn’t count on it.

She grinned then, a wide, genuine grin that lit up her face the same way the streetlights lit the rain. “Pretty confident I’d have you, huh?”

I shrugged, unable to keep my lips from curling further upward. “Maybe.”

“Come on then. Let’s grab your stuff. Then you’re getting into a hot bath.”

“Yes, Mom.” I rolled my eyes.

She gave me a wicked look, hunger in her eyes. “Mom? I bet your mom never gets in with you.”

My face was still flaming when we grabbed my overstuffed duffle. I could almost hear the cold raindrops sizzling off the heat in my cheeks.

Chapter Twenty-Five

B
y the time we got back into the house, Bianca and I were both drenched. We sloshed our way down the hall to her bedroom, leaving my sodden bag of stuff in the middle of the kitchen floor. In the muted light of the bedroom, we stood and stared at one another.

Bianca’s skirts drooped beneath the weight of water and clung to her legs. Her teeth chattered as loudly as mine.

“Damn it got cold,” she said. “Let’s get that bath happening.”

I followed her down the hallway to the bathroom, very conscious of the trails of water left in our wake.

“Is your mom here?” I asked.

“No. She’s at the club. I guess I’ll tell her about this tomorrow.” Bianca flicked the bathroom light on, and I blinked in the brightness. A large claw-foot tub sat in the middle of the pale lemon yellow tiles. I loved it on sight. Bianca turned the taps and steam billowed.

“Hope you like it hot,” she murmured, tugging at her sodden bootlaces.

I slipped off my own shoes and watched as she peeled off her layers of skirts and her blouse. She stood there in her bra and panties without any discomfort. Her breasts were surprisingly large and swelled over the top of her black satin bra’s cups. Her skin was so white, so creamy. I longed to touch it. When she bent to adjust the water flowing into the tub, I reached out and brushed my fingers over her waist.

“You know, you have to take your clothes off, too,” she murmured without looking at me.

“I know.” And I did. But somehow I couldn’t force myself to do it, to take off the soaked jeans and sweater. I couldn’t remember what underwear I’d put on that morning. What if I was wearing those stretched out grey panties? The ones with the rip in the seat?

Bianca dipped her hand into the water, testing its temperature. The bathroom was so full of steam that even though she was only a foot or so away from me, her form was indistinct. I didn’t see her move, but felt her hands on me, pulling off my shirt. I ducked out of it, conscious of my small bra-less breasts, the nipples standing erect from the cold. I folded my arms across them, pressing them into my chest, feeling my heart thudding against my ribs hard enough to make them quiver.

She dropped the clothes on the floor and reached for the front of my pants. The tiny popping sounds the buttons made as they unfastened sent bolts of brilliant sky blue screaming through my head. Every nerve in my body jangled, was hyper-aware of Bianca’s touch. The brush of her pinky across my belly made my knees weak. She jerked my jeans down and I stepped out of them, my soggy socks coming off too. A glance down reassured me that I wasn’t wearing my grungiest panties. They weren’t satin and lace like Bianca’s, but they weren’t torn or stained either. My heart pounded faster, but I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or excitement. Both rattled through me, but the excitement blazed with a searing heat, boiling away the fear in its wake.

Steam settled across my shoulders like a gauze blanket. Heat rose from the water that cascaded into the tub. Bianca’s eyes traveled my body, head to toe and then back again.

“You’re so beautiful,” she said. “And I don’t think you know it.”

Beautiful? Nobody had ever called me beautiful before. Well, apart from Jesse, and for him it was just a line. Jules was beautiful. Or she had been. Bianca was beautiful. I was skinny and angular, my hair was no particular color, and I had no boobs.

Bianca turned and bent over the bathtub to turn off the taps. I couldn’t take my eyes off her and the way the black satin stretched across her behind. She straightened up and I watched the knobs of her spine settle into place.

“It’s ready.” She poured something into the tub and the room filled with her delicious musky fragrance. I sucked it down, holding it in my lungs as if I could keep a piece of her stored there near my heart. The steam was thick and made the air heavy, chewable. I watched Bianca through the swirling droplets as she unfastened her bra. Her breasts dropped out of the cups, heavy and white, her nipples like a pair of bright red marbles. Or raspberries. I wondered if that was where her delicious flavor came from. Shivering, I dropped my eyes. I shouldn’t stare. But I couldn’t help myself. The sight of those full breasts filled me with a yearning I’d never known. It wasn’t envy that Bianca had what I didn’t, but more a hunger to touch them, to taste them.

I kept my arms crossed over my chest, self-conscious about my own tiny breasts. Bianca reached over and pulled them away. She took my hand and drew me toward the tub. I hesitated. This was too much. I wasn’t brave enough to take this step. I should go home… I shook my head. There was no home. Jules wasn’t there, so I didn’t exist there. Here, with Bianca’s eyes devouring me, here I belonged.

The steam was thicker now, the individual particles visible as they drifted by. She stepped out of her panties and climbed into the tub. Emboldened by her lack of shyness, I took off my own panties and joined her, shivering with delight as the hot water licked up the back of my calves.

I eased myself into the musk-scented liquid filling the long, deep tub. Hairs rose on the back of my neck, and my scalp tingled. My muscles seemed to groan as the heat sank through me. I leaned my head back on the rim and lay back, letting the bath sluice away the chill, and with it, the horror of the day. The tub was wide enough for Bianca’s legs to stretch alongside me, and she tickled my side with her toes. The nails were painted a bright, electric blue that tasted like bitter lime soda. Her skin was flushed from the heat, glowing.

For a long time we lay there, the water cooling around us. I was very aware of her body next to mine, but I didn’t reach for her. The soft press of her hip was enough, the slippery smooth line of her leg stretched against mine. Tension leached from my shoulders and neck. This was good. It was okay. I could do this. I let the warm water absorb my problems. Mom’s words trickled off my skin in burning runnels. Jules’s gaunt face dissolved.

“You okay?” Bianca’s voice startled me out of my meditations.

“Yeah.” I nodded.

She sat up, and the water slapped at the sides of the tub. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I smiled. I believed her. “Me too.”

We stayed in the bath until the water grew uncomfortably cool and our fingers were wrinkled as old raisins. Wrapped in towels, we dashed down the hallway to Bianca’s room and threw ourselves onto her bed. It was chilly in there, and my damp skin prickled with gooseflesh.

Next to me, Bianca shuddered. “It’s freezing!” She threw the towel aside and burrowed under the covers. “Get in here.”

I hesitated only a second before dropping my own towel into a sloppy heap and joining her.

She pulled me close, wrapping her arms around me and curving her body around mine. Her skin was warm and damp, fragrant from the bath. Once again it surprised me how well we fit together, our bodies seeming to click together like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. Her breath burned against the back of my neck and sent shivery tremors down my spine. I wanted to kiss her so much it almost hurt, but I forced myself to lie still, to be content with the movement of her tongue around my earlobes.

I was having sex. The thought ricocheted around my skull, bouncing off the sides until it slowed and oozed its way down to my heart, which pounded as if trying to escape its cage. My palms slicked with sweat. I didn’t know what to do. Her mouth on my ear was making me insane. I rolled over and kissed her hard, pinning her to the bed with my body. My aggression surprised me, my need. She should be a part of me. I needed to fix it that she wasn’t.

Her hands found places that had never been touched before, awakening nerves and sensations I couldn’t believe were possible. My own hands flew across her body, reading her curves and planes like Braille. I needed to know her. Needed to know everything about her. I was clumsy and uncertain, but she guided me, letting me know where she wanted to be touched, how she liked it.

The world disappeared. The cruelty of the kids at school, my mother’s hurtful words, Jules’s disease, and the fact Bianca’s mom could walk in at any moment all vanished. Bianca was all that mattered. Making her wiggle beneath me, small gasps and moans spilling from her lips. The sounds flashed through the dim light of the room in velvet soft shades of purple, red, pink, and orange. For once the colors weren’t an intrusion. Rather than drawing me out of the moment, they tugged me closer, wrapping Bianca and I together like a pair of mummies.

And then it was over.

I lay back, gasping, every inch of my body alive and singing. Bianca’s panting next to me was the only sound.

“Wow,” I breathed when I had enough air and presence of mind to articulate.

She rolled toward me, a lazy smile on her face. “You can say that again. Was that your first time?”

I nodded, dropping my eyes. Was it that obvious? I knew it was.

“Pretty good for a first timer.” She snuggled into me, and before long, her breathing grew steady and regular as she slept.

Bianca’s mom was in the kitchen when we made our sleepy way out in the morning. The smell of coffee filled the room, familiar and comforting. I yawned, my toes curling against the cold linoleum floor.

“Good morning, girls.” Trish peeked at us through the whorls of steam rising from her mug. “Don’t ask me what I am doing up at this ungodly hour. Seven a.m. is a perfectly good time to be going to bed, but it’s no time to be up.”

“What are you doing up at this hour?” Bianca flashed me a wicked smile before turning an innocent look on her mother.

“I guess maybe I thought something was up.” Trish glanced down at the bags we’d left in the middle of the floor. “Am I right?”

Bianca nodded and shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Livvie needs somewhere to stay for a while. Things aren’t so great at home.”

Trish turned her laser focus on me. “Your folks find out you’re gay?”

I shook my head, heat rising in my cheeks. How could she know? “No. Just… Well, some other family stuff.”

She studied me, her eyes the same brilliant blue Bianca’s were, with the same ability to make me feel as if my soul were exposed. She knew I was lying. And she knew I recognized that. Thankfully she let it go. “Does your mom know you’re here?”

Would Mom even care I was gone? I doubted it. Probably her dream come true.

Trish sighed. She looked exhausted, and I wondered if she’d slept at all. Probably not. Clubs stayed open until all hours, right? I guessed she must sleep during the day.

Bianca shoved a mug of coffee at me. “Drink up. We gotta get to school, remember?”

School. Right. I couldn’t quite believe it had been less than twenty-four hours since I’d found those papers in my locker. Since I’d bought the tickets and started this avalanche of problems. It felt like a lifetime. I’d changed in those hours. Changed in ways even I couldn’t understand. I was no longer a virgin. I no longer lived in the small, white house I’d called home all my life. I wasn’t quiet, little Livvie anymore. I was someone else, someone new and different, and I looked forward to finding out who that was.

“Yeah. I know.” I nodded and took a swig of the hot, bitter liquid. No milk. Another thing about the new Livvie. She didn’t dumb down her coffee with milk and sugar. I took another sip and winced at the taste. Maybe new Livvie did still need milk.

Trish stood and stretched before dumping her mug in the sink. She yawned. “I’m going to bed. Livvie, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need to. But think about it a little. Whatever problems you’re hiding from won’t go away just because you’re not there to face them.” She gave us both a wink before turning and leaving the room.

“She’s right, you know.” Bianca slid a piece of toast my way.

“I know.” I nibbled on the crust. I did. I knew I had to go home. I knew I’d have to face Mom again. But it was nice not to have to think about it for a while.

Bianca must have seen something in my face because she changed the subject. “How do you think school’ll be today?”

I just looked at her, rolling my eyes.