Author's Note: Hi guys! For those of you who don't know me, my name is Hayley! I'm nearly twenty-one, a cat lover, an activist and a cake enthusiast. A few years ago, I started out writing a short story about a young transgender girl, and somehow, I've spanned the story into three separate parts. This is an excerpt from the third, which I will be posting in full on the 1st of September. You don't have to have read the previous stories in the series to understand this one, but it probably helps for getting to know the characters and their motivations! Either way, I hope you enjoy this excerpt, and that you'll be back on September 1st to read the rest!
Post:
It's funny how life settles into a routine. One minute your life is chaos – you're getting drunk at university parties, calling your girlfriend at 3am to tell her you love her, making impromptu trips home to surprise your mum, and crying each day knowing your best friend could be dying. And then suddenly that's over, and your best friend is getting better, coming out of hospital - maybe for good this time. You made a pact when you were sixteen that you'd live together some day, and so that's what you do. Your girlfriend moves in too, and you spend blissful evenings in each other's company, laughing at puns that would make anyone else squirm, painting the walls of your flat every shade of the rainbow, and eating Chinese food as the three of you huddle in bed, watching endless episodes of Friends. Life is good. You like your routine.
And then the equilibrium slips.
We'd been staying in Paris for a few nights for fashion week. Eliza had spent the whole time with stars in her eyes, watching the models on the catwalk in awe. She loved the colourfulness of it – she'd been waiting for pops of colour to come back into fashion. The magentas and oranges and lime greens had head turning each time, and on the flight home, she pressed her hand against the window, homesick for Paris already. We arrived home and Jonny was playing video games on our old TV, his three day old socks reeking from their position on the arm of the sofa. Eliza wrinkled her nose, whacking Jonny with her scarf in annoyance.
'Don't you ever change your socks? You were wearing those when we left.'
Jonny grinned, blonde hair flopping in his eyes. He had the skater look going on. He said he couldn't afford a haircut, but he refused to let Eliza chop it for him.
'The washing machine's broken.'
'Again?' Eliza sighed, dumping her overnight bag. She stepped gingerly over a pizza box, kicked an empty bottle of beer out of the way and crouched by the washing machine to examine it. 'You know, just because the washing machine's broken, doesn't mean you can't keep the rest of the flat clean. And there's a laundrette five minutes away. There's no excuse for those disgusting feet of yours.'
Jonny hopped off the couch and wriggled his toes in Eliza's face. She tried to look angry with him, but she ended up giggling, swatting his feet with her hand. Jonny scooped her up and twirled her around in a hug. I smiled. Six months earlier, he wouldn't have been able to pick up a bag of groceries, let alone a grown woman. He set her down on the floor with a kiss on her cheek.
'I've missed you guys. Come here, Charlotte!'
I let him whirl me around in a circle too – I suspect he just liked to show us that he could – and tiredly make a cup of decaf tea. After four days of strong Parisian coffee, I was in need of some good British tea. Our flight was late, and the sun was long gone. Eliza and I both had work in the morning, and the thought made me nauseous. As I drank my tea, Eliza and Jonny were arguing over the washing machine.
'Just leave it! There's nothing we can do until morning.'
'I can't just leave it, I won't be able to sleep knowing it's broken.'
'Trust me, fiddling with that is the worst idea ever. I did that and it started spouting soap suds everywhere. I had to explain to that old woman downstairs why her ceiling was leaking bubbles.'
Eliza shook her head. 'Alright. But call someone to fix it while we're in work, please. And go to bed, it's late.'
'Sure thing, Mum.'
Eliza didn't look like she has the energy to retort again. Jonny caught my eye and pulled an awkward face. I smiled, but I knew it was best not to tease Eliza when she was in such a bad mood.
I followed her through to our bedroom. It was very much her work of art – she'd decorated the walls with tapestries and fairy lights and fashion sketches. It still felt like home to me, though. She's always been my home, really. Her and Jonny, and Mum. Anywhere she made her own, I fell in love with. The room smelt like the candles my Mum had given her as a birthday gift – cinnamon and honey. Eliza flopped down on the bed, kicking off her shoes and taking out her earrings without opening her eyes. I slipped into my underwear and got into the bed next to her. She turned her back to me and shuffled into the curve of my body so that I could wrap my arms around her. I held tight. Those moments were precious to me – especially as they were becoming less and less common.
Sometimes I got the feeling that Eliza was drifting. She'd lived by my rules for a long time. The whole time that Jonny was sick was spent in the hospitals. She knew that he monopolised my time, and she never questioned it. And with him in recovery, it felt almost as though she was pulling me towards her and pushing Jonny back. I think she liked the idea of it being just the two of us, without Jonny as a third wheel. But I wasn't ready to leave him. He's so fragile in so many ways. And where would he go? Home to his Mum? Jonny loved living independently. Going home would be like a step back for him. But of course, I couldn't say that to Eliza – she already thought my world revolved solely around his happiness. I didn't want to add fuel to the fire.
The thought of her slipping away made me want to hold on tighter. I snuggled in closer, kissing her neck. She sighed happily.
'Can you play with my hair?'
I buried my hands in her blue curls, massaging her head. My fingers brushed her neck and she shivered. She let out a giggle, muffled slightly by her pillow.
'What?'
'After so many years, you still manage to make my skin tingle,' Eliza murmured. I smiled. In moments such as that, I was able to remind myself that no matter what I thought was going wrong, she still loved me as much as she did when we were seventeen.
It was a few days later when we were having dinner as a flat and I realised Eliza hadn't uttered a word in half an hour. I'd made her favourite Polish dish, bigos, a type of meat stew. Over half of her bowl remained, and her spoon was making swirls through the food. Jonny was talking non-stop as usual and hadn't noticed.
'The guy at the job centre kept going on about how I don't have any qualifications and I was like err? I've got A Levels, thanks very much. I'm so sorry that a little thing called cancer got in the way of me getting my degree. What does he want me to do? Gatecrash someone's graduation and grab any old diploma? I kept telling him, I've got rent to pay. I need this more than some graduate with a degree in something useless like Beyoncé studies...but apparently they have more job prospects than me with my four A Levels...'
I was only half listening. My focus was on Eliza's face. She showed no emotion, her eyes distant as her spoon continued to rotate clockwise, then anti-clockwise, then back to clockwise. I reached across the table to pat Eliza's hand, but she was unresponsive.
'Liza?'
Jonny stopped his spiel to see what was going on. He frowned at Eliza.
'What's going on?'
Eliza stared at the table and mumbled something.
'What? What did you say?'
Eliza looked up, straight at me, and a horrible wave of nausea washed over me. I grabbed my glass of water to calm me, sipping from the cup.
'I'm moving to Paris.'
I almost choked. I spluttered a little, and then the three of us fell into silence. Eliza smiled sheepishly.
'I thought there might be a little more shouting. But silence is good. Silence is fine.'
Jonny glared at Eliza. 'What the hell?'
'There it is.'
'Were you ever going to tell us? Or were you just going to up and leave?' Jonny demanded to know.
'Of course I was going to tell you,' Eliza said, but she looked even more nervous at the accusation. She kept her gaze on Jonny, not daring to look at me. 'I just needed a little push is all.'
My heart had hit the pause button. I barely felt myself leave my chair, or my own feet beneath me as I left the room. I could only hear the muffle of Eliza calling after me. I closed the door to our room. Moments later, Eliza pushed against the door, but my shoulder jammed it shut. Her breathing was heavy on the other side. I could tell that she wanted to say something to me, but she knew me well enough to leave me alone. I could almost feel her hand hovering on the other side of the door, wondering whether to try the door one last time. She gave up and left.
It took until she was packing for us to talk to one another. I'd spent three days sleeping on the couch and wishing I was beside her in our bed. But seemingly I was in self-destruct mode and I was more interested in staying angry than making the most of our time left together.
I watched her from the doorway of her bedroom. She was packing everything. She'd taken down the hangings from the wall. All of her clothes were gone. The room seemed empty and foreign, with all aspects of her stripped away. She caught me watching and stood up straight, smoothing down her skirt. A lump caught in my throat.
'Why are you going?'
Eliza closed her eyes. 'This is for me. This is the first thing I've done for myself in a long time. If you'd heard me out, I would have asked you to come with me.'
I couldn't bear to look at her. I knew then that I'd made a mistake in shutting her out. The immaturity of it was painful.
'I can't.'
Eliza sighed, turning back to her packing. 'I know. I know you have your reasons. Jonny, for one. But I'm not stopping everything for him. It was different when he was sick. If he got sick again, I'd come home in a heartbeat. But it's been years coming, Charlotte. I've finally got the opportunity that I've been dreaming of, and I'd be stupid to abandon it.'
It took me a moment to realise I'd never bothered to ask whys she was going. I cursed myself for being so self-centred. For a moment, it was so plain to me how patient and calm Eliza is, that it hurt me. I sat down on the bed, legs crossed. I was finally ready to listen.
'Did you get a job?'
Eliza sat on the bed beside me, taking one of my hands. 'Yeah. Chanel want me. They told me my portfolio was very impressive.'
My jaw dropped. 'Chanel?' I smiled. 'Of course they want you. You've worked so hard.'
Eliza didn't smile. 'It's not on a temporary basis. This is it. I will be gone for a long time. And I need to know that you're all in. That if you stay here, you'll make the effort to check in with me, and keep us going. Because we've been in this relationship for a long time, but I won't be put on hold anymore. Do you understand?'
I understood completely – she was telling me it was make or break. I gripped her hand hard and knew that I'd be stupid to let go.
'We'll make this work. I promise.'
Eliza still wouldn't meet my eyes. 'It's not enough to just say it. You have to mean it too.'
'I know. And I do. You must know that.'
Eliza's hand slipped from mine. She swung her legs off the bed and began to pack again.
'Time will tell.'
Enjoyed this snippet? Head over to my profile for more LGBT stories! My novel, Double Bluff, is also free to purchase on Amazon today, so go ahead and grab a copy! If you like it, please be sure to leave a review! The link will be on my profile!
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