Latch, Disclosure
25: Stella
Our dorm was silent.
It was always silent at night, of course, but these days more than ever. It was the encumbering sort of silence, the suffocating, crystallizing one, and I bore it like stones on my shoulders even when the sun came up again.
She'd spent a few nights in Felice and Maddie's dorm, claiming she had a science project to finish up with Maddie, but I knew she was just avoiding me. And now that she could no longer avoid my presence without raising inquiries among our friend group, she was back to sleeping in our dorm, but somehow, that was even worse.
It was worse because she could scarcely hold eye contact with me for more than 5 seconds, and even small-talks couldn't soothe the awkwardness between us.
And that stung. Really bad.
At night, I found myself regretting everything, crying silently in my pillow. Damn me for hoping, I thought angrily, because hope was a far too dangerous for someone like me to toy with. And damn the prince for making me have hope, even for just a nanosecond.
Baroque pearls are irregular, misshapen gems found inside of oysters, and that's what makes them so special and rare—they're not shiny or particularly pretty or smooth. These gems gave their name to a revolutionary era of architecture and art because of their distinctiveness; they marked history, in a sense.
But in the end, the Renaissance would always shine brighter than the Baroque in history books, and in this world of ours, no one wants a lumpy, distorted pearl. You see, my parents, my family, my friends, and Frederika, they would've wanted a pretty and shiny gem.
And I was broken.
Traditions are what they are. No one wants you to be unique and different here. No one wants you to inch out of the line. They want you to blend into the masses.
"Fred?" I'd murmured into the pitch black of our dorm one night.
She hadn't responded, but I'd heard her shuffling in her bed.
"It was me who wrote that poem last Valentine's day."
✧ ✧ ✧
"Guys, guess who just fucking showed up!" slurred Felice, dropping down on the couch.
Sweat beamed on her forehead, mascara running slightly around her eyes, and her cheeks were flushed. Fumbling, she fished a pocket mirror out of her Versace purse and fixed herself up.
"Who?" I wondered, staring down at my rhum and Coke and lazily tipping the cup to watch it slush around in a small tornado.
"Sara!" shouted Felice over the sound of blasting music.
You lift my heart up
when the rest of me is down
"No," replied Frederika, shaking her head, "what's she doing here?!"
"Don't know, don't care," said Felice. "Simon must've dragged her here, or something."
"So are you gonna talk to her?" asked Frederika, leaning over the table to fill up her cup with punch.
You, you enchant me
even when you're not around
It was the third time she filled up her drink in the last hour. I don't know why I'd counted them.
"Fuck, no!" she hissed instantly. "This is Wilhelm's birthday party; I'm having fun tonight!"
Felice liked to pretend she didn't care; it made her seem stronger. But I knew pushing Sara away hurt her more than she cared to admit. There was more to their fighting, I could tell, and I didn't know what it was or why Felice hadn't mentioned it to us, but I knew she wanted to talk to Sara again, at least maybe to understand why she did what she'd done.
"Speaking of," chimed in Maddie, "why don't we quit sitting around like boring idiots and get back on the fucking dancefloor?! Show Sara what she's missing out on!"
If there are boundaries,
I will try to knock them down
"Yeah, bitch!"
Felice grabbed our hands and hauled us to our feet, stumbling from the three drinks she'd already had, and we ran to the dancefloor hand-in-hand, laughing.
I'm latching on, babe
My head was spinning from the rhum, but it was that good feeling that set in, like your guts coming undone, and I wasn't thinking too hard. I wasn't thinking at all.
Now I know what I have found
People bounced off the floor, ramming into one another in mosh pits and circles, drinks spilling from their cups as they danced. A fog from the smoke machines filled up the abandoned building, green, blue, and red flashing lights stabbing through the mist, and people around me turned to faceless silhouettes.
I feel we're close enough
When swaying hips brushed me from behind, I melted into the motion without question. I saw black hair and a flash-white tank top. Diamond blue eyes, smoky eye-liner, and crimson lips.
Freja, I remembered vaguely through a intoxicated haze. From algebra class. That was her name.
I wanna lock in your love
She flipped me around, palms roaming my stomach and hips, tugging me toward her. Her knee nestled between my thighs, her face inches from mine, lips parted and expectant, mouth treading with the lyrics of the song. It was temerity, I know. It was a substitution, a senseless and quixotic chase for something I could never have.
I think we're close enough
Freja moved like water, plaid printed canvas skirt lifting up her fore thigh as she arched her back, pushing against me. My heart and head pounded, hammering in my flesh and bones.
Could I lock in your love, baby?
Without thinking, I wrapped her face in my hands and closed the space between us in a hasty, filthy, and sweaty kiss, reeling off a haze of rhum and Coke. A kiss that tasted like lip-liner and raspberry lipgloss, a kiss to forget the taste of cherry lip balm, yet it turned to a fervent reminder of her.
God, couldn't I just get her off my mind for two seconds?
I doubled with intensity with the hope that it'd drown out my illicit thoughts. Freja sensed it, I think, and her tongue lashed past her lips, swirling all over mine.
From the crowd around us came hoots and whoops; friends and classmates who'd visibly taken notice of our promiscuity.
"Shit, someone get these two a room already!"
"Someone's horny tonight!"
"Oh, that's hot!"
"Shut the fuck up, Nils!"
Freja's lips detached from mine; I tossed my head back to grant her access as her mouth trailed down my throat. I heaved, eyes closed, and my head spun. Flashing lights, dancing figures, screams and hollers that stabbed into my skull like white-hot needles.
Curtains drew in front of my eyes, but only for a couple of seconds.
And then, in the corner of my eye, something flashed. Someone, still as a statuette in the midst of the crowded and buzzing dance floor, staring right in our direction.
Frederika.
We made eye contact while Freja nibbled on my collarbone, and for a moment, time froze completely.
I couldn't comprehend what was happening. Too much rhum.
"Let's get out of here," murmured Freja against my earlobe.
I pulled away to look at her, and she bit down on her lip, smirking. Her mouth was flushed, lipgloss smeared, and I'll have to admit it, she looked hot as shit.
"Hold that thought, sweetheart," I replied, grinning, and gently pushed her off of me.
And then, before I could think twice, I was darting through the crowd on the dance floor.
She saw me head in her direction, and her eyes widened slightly.
"You look like you're having fun," stated Frederika when I reached her, but there was an acrimony to her tone, and underlining.
"And you look like you saw a fucking ghost," I slurred.
She scoffed, crossing her arms. "No, just the most disgusting kiss I've ever seen; you look like you were water-boarded."
In another context, we could've sounded like we were teasing one another. Like best friends did.
But we were bitter and mean.
"What the fuck do you care?"
Frederika slitted her eyes at me, and just when I thought she'd fire-back, she turned her back to me and started walking away.
"Hey!" I shouted after her, "where the fuck are you going?"
She pivoted. "Somewhere more quiet," she hissed in my face.
She turned again; I followed her.
It might've been a minute later when we were finally outside, crawling out of a window, but the liquor in my system had surely made it seem like 10 seconds. Outside, I stumbled on the grass, waving my arms around to regain my balance, while Frederika just stood there, arms folded over her chest, one of her hips jutted out.
"Are you actually angry with me right now?" I questioned once I steadied myself upright.
"Yes, I'm angry!" she retorted, seething, "what the fuck, Stella? First, you kiss me on the ferris wheel, and now, what? you're full-on shoving your tongue down some other girl's throat?!"
I hiccuped a sardonic laugh.
"Jeez, girl, bring out the papers; I didn't know we were engaged."
She glared at me. "Why did you kiss me? Was it just some joke?"
"Are you joking? of course, it wasn't fucking a joke!"
"Really?" she spat, eyes narrow, "because you sure move on fast."
I scoffed, "You fucking cut me off, Fred! For weeks."
"I was figuring my shit out!" she cried, and tears started to well in her eyes. Angry tears, or maybe they were demented tears.
I glared at her. "God's sake, you could've talked to me," I heaved, waving my arms around. "How the fuck do you think I felt when you barely even looked at me?!"
Frederika took my words into account, gnawing on her lip, and her head dipped down.
"Right," I scoffed, shaking my head, "'cause you're the only one whose feelings matter, aren't you?"
"Fuck," she cussed breathily, her eyes darting up to meet mine again, "I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Precisely," I jested bitterly.
Frederika's tears spilled at last, skipping down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry I ghosted you. I was confused and... lost. And I really didn't mean to hurt you."
I considered her unspokenly.
Realizing that I wasn't settling for her answer, she carried on:
"I never thought that my feelings for you were... like that," she confessed, breathing shakily. "I mean, I knew that it didn't feel like with Felice or Maddie, or with any other friend I have, and I knew I enjoyed kissing you at parties. I knew I enjoyed our little touches and late-night talks, but I didn't think it was anything... corrupt."
"Corrupt?!" I echoed, appalled.
"Shit, no... fuck, Stella, that's not what I meant—"
"You know what?" I cut in bitterly, "go fuck yourself, Frederika."
With that, I whirled on my heels and stormed in the other direction.
I could scarcely feel the alcohol in me anymore; I needed a drink, or to dunk my head in a bucket.
"Stella, wait!"
I ignored her.
"Stella!"
Her hand clasped firmly around my wrist, and she spun me around to face her. Before I could protest, cry, trash around, or scream at her, her lips crashed into mine.
And my mind went vacuous.
Oh, fuck.
It was over before I even knew.
Frederika pulled away, eyes wide as two coins and breathless. "Did you mean everything you wrote in that poem?"
I blinked at her. "Yes."
A small smile adorned her lips.
And then she kissed me again.
omg bitches are not ready for the next few chapters. this story is almost done so you know shit is going down
okay goodnight guys xx