Stray Cat (GirlxGirl)

V2 Chapter 1: Night of Horrors

Monday, 23rd of October
"They call it the haunted alley." Zarah stopped, opened her eyes widely and made a face. "There are only a few houses on that street, and the residents work together to create a spooky experience," she explained as we were exiting the foggy showers, continuing the discussion we had before our workout. "They do that every year."
"So are you coming, Alma? I have the perfect costume planned out for you," Kelly's face appeared between ours, cutting into the conversation with a wide grin as she gripped our shoulders.
"Y-Yeah, I guess?" I responded, trying to look nearly as excited as the girls around me. Kelly pressed her fingertips together and jumped in joy, almost losing the towel that was wrapped around her, while the others broke out into cheers.
Spooky and scary stuff wasn't quite the thing for me, but I couldn't just turn them down. They had been looking forward to it for a long time. The Halloween party at school with a costume contest sounded fine, but "haunted alley" didn't seem like a place I'd like to visit, was the name alone already spooky enough.
Giving the girls a quick goodbye, I dressed and slipped out of the changing room to where my Love was waiting for me. My eyes landed on Brea who was already awaiting me with open arms, the bracelet I had gifted her dangling on her wrist.
"How was the training? Are you enjoying it enough for both of us, Kitten?" she spoke in her melodic voice before kissing me when I leaned down to her height, my wet hair dripping on her shoulders. Although her treatment was working at the time being, she wouldn't be leaving that wheelchair anytime soon.
"Zarah and Kelly are ruthless, I'm hurting all over. Gonna be even worse tomorrow, I fear. But it's still fun."
"You know they want you to take my spot at the nationals next year. Else they wouldn't be giving you those private workouts." Brea's voice went a bit low, I could tell that she still felt bitter about not being able to participate. Though she was supportive of me being a cheerleader and temporarily taking her spot, I didn't think it was pleasant to watch me do her favorite activities when she couldn't.
"I don't think I want that...," I looked down. My movements were still way too uncoordinated and I was lacking strength and experience. Also, since moving in with Brea, Olivia has been making massive amounts of food for me, saying I was still too thin, so my body wasn't nearly as presentable as all the others.
"Don't say that, we need you. You are making great progress, so I'm sure you'll do great," consoled me my girlfriend with a light smile, her sparkling eyes telling me that her words were genuine.
I had gotten good at that, reading Brea's feelings in her eyes and face. The way her eyes shined when she was proud of me. How she puffed her cheeks a little when she was pouting. And her nose twitched a bit when confronted with something she didn't like.
"I hope you're right... wanna head home?" I asked, feeling the growl of my empty stomach because of the training, to which Brea nodded. I pushed her wheelchair out of the room and back to the parking lot. Olivia was waiting there for us, acting like our personal driver. As if all eyes were on us, my head turned red.
Since Brea's accident, her mother had taken a break from her job and stayed with us at all times. Cooking food, driving us to where we needed to go, just spoiling us in general.
It had me wondering if this was what family was like. Mommy was also looking out for me now and had kept on spoiling me as a child, but Brea's family was so close that it felt unnatural to me - especially since they included me as if I hadn't been solely a stranger just a few months ago.
"Ready to go home, girls? Alma, what did I tell you about drying your hair before going outside?" remonstrated Olivia when I opened the car to fix Brea's wheelchair in place.
"Yes, I'm sorry." I couldn't help but smirk as she scolded me, and I knew she was smiling too. It took a while but I got used to this form of chastising, a way without beatings or pain. No need for fear of having done wrong, it was almost playful. Even when I had actually done something bad - like attempting to bake cake on my own and fogging up the whole kitchen with smoke - Olivia wouldn't get mad. She'd properly explain herself, and let me better myself. Starting, of course, with cleaning my own mess.