six || leslie's awkward period

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After a long, tiring day in town, Leslie collapsed onto the sofa and threw her head back, groaning her relief.

“God, it’s good to put my feet up,” she said, closing her eyes and kicking off her shoes.

“We haven’t exactly climbed Everest,” Cloe said, dumping a couple of bags on the table. “But we didn’t have to take the stairs.” She sank down next to her sister and kicked her feet up on the coffee table. Leslie was sitting with her lips pursed and her brows furrowed. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leslie said, nodding. “Cloe?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I’m manly?”

“Manly? Whaddaya mean?”

“Well, masculine. My friends say I’m one of the guys.”

“Well, you don’t look like a bloke. I guess you talk and act a bit guy-ish.”

“How?” She turned to face Cloe, doing a ninety degree turn on the sofa and pulling her feet up.

“You talk about sex a lot. And you burp in public. You own more pairs of jeans than anyone I know.”

“And that makes me manly?”

Cloe shrugged. “I guess. And Mum’s convinced you’re a lesbian.”

Leslie frowned. “I’m not. I was engaged this time last year.”

“Her words, not mine. She seems to think that’s why you and Rick broke up.”

“She said that to you?”

“Yeah. Y’know, Les by name, Les by nature.”

“What’d you say?”

“That your sexual history wouldn’t be one hundred percent men if you were gay.”

Leslie chuckled. “You really are my sister. But maybe ninety-five percent.”

Cloe went bug-eyed. “You did it lady-style? When? Why?”

“Let’s just say that university experimentation is very real.”

“What was it like?”

Leslie shrugged. “Nice, I guess. I mean, she seemed to know what she was doing but it wasn’t my cup of tea. I’m more of a dick chick.”

“God, I can’t believe you screwed a girl.”

“I don’t think screwed is the right word in the absence of a penis.”

Cloe covered her ears. “Ok, I don’t want details, thank you very much.”

Leslie laughed. “You’ve got that to look forward to.”

“I don’t like girls enough to do one.”

“Neither do I.” Leslie held up one finger. “And none of this is to leave this flat, ok?”

“I’ll do my best. You’d better hope Mum doesn’t ask me again ‘cause I can’t guarantee that won’t slip out.”

Leslie narrowed her eyes at her sister, though she didn’t mind too much. Whether she liked it or not, her mother already knew every other detail of her personal life. She picked up her phone to check the time at the same time that it rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Les, it’s me,” Greg said. “I think I left my wallet at yours. Is it there?”

Leslie scanned the room and spied the black square of leather down the side of the chair he had slept on. “Got it, yeah.”

“Awesome. Mind if I pop over for it?”

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