NOVEL SIMPLE 39: Epilogue Two
Brook’s finger traced a line down the bare skin of my back. It dipped into the trough created between my ribs and my ass, then trailed up the other side. Soon, little circles were being drawn around and around the mound of one butt cheek. My skin felt so sensitive — but that wasn't exactly a surprise.
“You're so lovely, Els,” my girlfriend whispered.
My eyes fluttered open, or at least, one of them did. I was smooshed face down on the bed, with half of my face getting wrinkle marks on it from the messed up bed sheets.
“I love you, too,” I mumbled.
Brook snorted and her hand stopped, then cupped and squeezed a cheek. “That's not what I said.”
“I know,” I grinned, my cheeks pulling up into a stretched, funny looking version of the expression.
She smacked my ass, softly and playfully. “You're lovely, but you're also a problem, glowstick. The happier you get, the more sassy you get.”
“I could go talk to my blood family, that'd make me less sassy,” I offered, wiggling my ass at her.
Brook sighed and smacked my butt again, just enough to jiggle it. “Considering how bad they're doing these days, you'd probably come out of it feeling better about yourself.”
“Maybe,” I said, as my mood darkened.
My therapist had been helping me a lot, puzzling out the tangled, sticky spider’s web of trauma that my blood relatives had left in me. Dark thoughts welled up — about my childhood, about my dead sperm donor, and—
I stopped myself, and began to go through one of the exercises that Zeka, my therapist, had taught me. Focus on the here and now, focus on your senses — what could I hear, see, and feel?
My back was cooling now, sweat from recent exertions pulling the heat from my body. Brook’s breathing was there, as steady and soothing as always… and then, of course, I could feel the sheets on my bare skin.
Further out, I could hear the gentle patter of rain on the roof, and beyond that, the sounds of the city — muted by the walls of my room, but still there if you concentrated.
Brook had stopped fondling my ass, and I decided to turn over and look at her. She was sitting naked and cross-legged on the bed — unbothered by her nudity as much as I was. Goddess, her body was wonderful. It was strong, soft, lean, and feminine, and she wore it with the confidence of a bored lioness.
“You okay?” She asked, her eyes flashing with just a hint of gold.
Smiling, I reached out and took her hand. “Yeah. No need to go all goldie. Just… fighting the thoughts and winning.”
Brook’s powers barely ever manifested, and when they did, it was never as dramatic as during the… the battle. The fact that her superpower was protecting me though… that felt so universe-shakingly special that honestly, I kinda felt like I didn't deserve it. Especially since the most use they got now was protecting me from the ground if I fucked up a skate trick and panicked enough that I failed to save myself with my own powers.
“Good,” Brook said fiercely, and she seemed like she was about to start on a proper rant and/or pep-talk, when her phone went off.
She picked it up, read something, then looked at me. “Hey, do you want to get Starbucks with Rosie? She messaged — I think she needs company.”
Sighing, I almost said no, because I was comfy here, and my limbs were still jelly due to Brook’s strong, talented fingers. Unfortunately, leaving the house would probably help reinforce the good vibes and banish the bad ones.
“Okay, sure.”
I popped my skateboard up into my hands near the entrance to the local Starbucks. Brook was ahead of me, waiting in the sliding doors so they didn't close automatically. A gaggle of high school kids passed through going out, and one suddenly got a very rubbery neck. Brook ignored his stare and placed a protective arm around my shoulders.
Just as the doors were closing, I heard the boy whisper urgently to his friends, “Yo! That was Brook and Elsie! The skaters from that channel I watch! Holy shit!”
Fighting matching smiles, Brook and I made eye contact, before turning to see if Rosie was there. She was, having claimed a booth already. Once we had drinks of our own, we joined her.
“Hi, how're you two sickeningly sweet lovebirds doing?” She asked. Her tone was friendly enough, but there was a sort of directionless bitter aftertaste in there too.
“Great,” Brook said happily, and she leaned forward with a conspiratorial expression. “We were naked in bed when you messaged.”
Rosie's expression screwed up into annoyance and amusement. I wasn't sure which was more dominant.
“Great,” she said, with a defeated sigh. “My best friends are off fucking while I spend the semester break trying and failing to find a date that's worth, you know, dating.”
Brook gave a sympathetic nod. “Mood. The pool of available guys at any given time is like… seventy percent trash.”
“What about the pool of girls?” I asked, intrigued to discover what Brook thought the difference was. I did not expect the blush and downcast eyes from Rosie, though.
“Girls are hard too, but in different ways,” Brook explained, having missed Rosie's reaction. “With girls… god, with girls you gotta try so fucking hard just to get their attention sometimes, and the ones that make you chase and chase are just exhausting. Then, as a bisexual, you have to deal with all these unicorn hunters — couples looking for a threesome or whatever — like, dude, I'm looking for girls right now, I'm not gonna bang your crusty-ass boyfriend, especially when you're barely into it. Go to couple's therapy— jesus…”
Rosie and I were staring at Brook with amusement and more than a little shock. Talk about a rant.
“Right…” Rosie said, fidgeting with her drink. “Well… hey, did you see the big battle that happened in Penrith?”
“Which battle?” I asked, while running a soothing hand over my girlfriend’s forearm.
“That one with Rampart — she took down that Emerged trafficking ring. Pretty gruesome stuff,” Rosie said, like she was discussing celebrity fashion and not… that. “Rumor is, she got so mad she actually… you know—” Rosie made a slashing motion over her throat. “—some of the evil guys.”
“That's…” I began, but faltered. I really didn't want to know about awful superhero news.
Brook stepped in quickly, “So… Rosie… new subject, what was that look for?”
Rosie carefully and obviously schooled her expression. “What look?”
In sync, Brook and I raised an eyebrow each, and leaned down to rest our chins on our fists. Then, we laughed— well, Brook laughed, but I giggled.
“Come on Rosie, you got a super weird look when I mentioned girls,” I prompted, doing my best to tamp down on my suspicions.
Our preppy, glamorous, Instagram celebrity friend was fighting the mother of all blushes, and she was losing. “I need… advice.”
“We're here to help!” I said, trying to sound comforting, but I kinda sounded excited.
Rosie took one, then two, then three deep breaths, eyes closed and everything. Then, she opened them and stared intently down at the fake wood of the tabletop. “If I were… like… maybe interested in girls— I mean, like actually interested, not drunk party interested… how would I know?”
I looked over at Brook, and she looked right back at me. Wow. She was actually questioning. This was huge.
“Well, first off, I'm proud of you for even saying that,” Brook said gently. “It's a real hard thing to tackle, and it takes serious courage to actually speak it out loud, you know?”
Rosie's cheeks dimpled as she smiled, although her eyes stayed glued to the table. “Thanks.”
“Um… who prompted this?” I asked, very gently.
“Brook liked a thirst trap post from this girl. It was one of those ones with the epic sexy music, where they're looking all cozy in normal clothes, then bam, transition on the beat drop, and suddenly you're looking at a fucking goddess in a black high-slit dress, with amazing dark makeup on. Then she licks her lips and her tongue is so red and she has this sword with glowing red writing on it and she—” Rosie was practically melting into her chair by the time she cut herself off.
“Uh…” I said, eyes wide. I looked over at Brook for help, but she was fighting for her life to keep from laughing.
Rosie wasn't listening. She was in thirst-trap shock. “I saved it on my damned phone.”
“I um… look,” I said, flailing wildly in my head — trying to find the right words. “Rosie… that sounds pretty hot, and I don't blame you…”
She was staring at me imploringly now, and when I trailed off, she blurted desperately, “Am I into girls, or is it a once off thing? Please, I need help.”
“Yeah, I'd say you've got some sapphic tendencies there, Rosie,” Brook finally said. “Granted, I remember that post and I'd say you got hit by the gay girl equivalent of a nuke… actually, it might've just been so powerful that it knocked the door down in your head, you know? Unlocked a hidden passage up in your skull, and it's all full of girls with no underwear and very high slit dresses.”
Across the table, Rosie actually physically shuddered. “It was really hot, Brook.” She went deathly still all of a sudden, and her eyes went wide as she stared at my girlfriend. “No underwear?”
“Insta girls — you know what they're like,” Brook shrugged, as if that explained everything.
Damn, now I wanted to see this post — and maybe get one of those dresses for myself.
“I'm into girls,” Rosie finally admitted, and she slumped face first onto the table. Her drink was almost launched off onto the floor, but I caught it with my powers and carefully settled it down out of the way. She didn't notice. “What do I do? How do I know for absolute sure? Will it go away, is this just a phase?”
“Hey, deep breaths,” I said, putting a placating hand in her shoulder. “We can help you, okay? Those questions have answers, and we'll help you find them, okay?”
Gosh, my therapist would've been proud if she heard that. I was passing on the wisdom of slowing the fuck down, taking a deep breath, and pulling yourself back into the moment.
Rosie, by some miracle, actually did as I said, and soon she was sipping from her drink again.
“My cute, blue-freckled girlfriend is right,” Brook said with the same gentle confidence she used to handle me when I was having a meltdown. “We'll help you. No need to freak out— and hey, you have a big following on insta, maybe… message the thirst-trap girl? You never know…”
Rosie's eyes went wide, and her breathing began to rapidly speed up again. Oh no. This was going to be a whole thing. I had confidence in Rosie, though. Once she got her head wrapped around the concept of girls, she'd become a menace — so even if she didn't manage to pull the girl in the hot dress, she'd find someone, guy or girl, who could get this same reaction.
Looking over at Brook, I felt a soft glow of affection blossom in my chest. I'd definitely found my version of the girl in the high-slit dress, and holy moly did I feel lucky for it.
