Tricky Girls (Girls of Hazelhurst #1)

25. CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 25

Tilda

‘She wouldn’t come out and see you?’

Elly shakes her head, eyes on the spiderwebbed ceiling of the shed. I’d been getting dressed when she entered, my silky forest green shirt—as close to a Christmas jumper as I’m ever going to get—still not buttoned up right.

But that hadn’t mattered, not when I saw the look on her face.

‘Why not?’

She lifts one shoulder. ‘Her prerogative, I suppose.’

But despite her casualness, her throat bobs as she swallows, eyes unblinking as she tries not to cry.

From the house, I hear the chihuahua bark and a shriek from either Maisie or Taylor. Elly had introduced me to the bunch before dashing off. I offered to go with her but she declined. Her siblings are a little wild. Dan and Taylor talk a lot , following me around as I went to the kitchen, the bathroom, to the shed to get dressed. I had to politely tell Taylor to go do one. Even Maisie, who’s yet to say a single word to me, has all the energy of a diminutive hurricane.

It was overwhelming. I’ve been hiding in the shed ever since.

Looking at Elly now, I wish I just went with her.

‘Tell me what happened.’

She sighs. ‘You can’t go in the bedrooms. You can only visit in the lounge space. I thought maybe she didn’t get my texts about coming so I sent a nurse to get her, but she refused to come out and see me. Wouldn’t even say why.’

‘What the fuck? She owes you at least that much.’

Elly scrubs her face. ‘Yeah. She gets like this. Just wants to shut everything out.’ She barks out a watery laugh. ‘Including me, apparently.’

‘We only came home early to see her.’

‘Yeah, well, what can you do?’ Drawing in a breath, she meets my eyes. ‘How are you getting on anyway? Survived breakfast?’

‘Just. I’m not used to such a crazy house. I like your siblings though. They’re like little talkative barnacles. Apart from Maisie. Does she ever speak?’

‘Yeah, when there’s not strangers around. I was the same way as a kid, if you can believe it. Wouldn’t speak for toffee. My teachers all thought I was thick as shit.’

‘And now look at you. Best uni in the country.’

‘Take that, St Marie’s Primary School.’

Her smile falls after a moment and she goes back to staring at the ceiling.

Leant up on my elbow, I give her head a little rub, amazed as always by how soft her hair is.

Elly glances at me, down to my lips, then closes her eyes with a sigh.

I could do it now. Just lean down and kiss her. Finally get it out of my brain. She’s obviously thinking about it too.

But then I hear scratching at the door, followed by a pitiful whine.

‘Who let the dogs out?’ we say at the same time, cracking up.

Her phone goes off and she scoops it up, obviously hoping it’ll be her mum. She holds it above her face, clearly not caring if I see too.

Haz: Tilda told me. Sorry man. Hope your mum’s okay. Thinking of you.

Haz: And next time tell me fucker so I can help!!

‘There you go,’ I murmur.

Elly gets off the bed, straightening her Christmas jumper. Did she wear that to the hospital? To give her mum some Christmas cheer? Oh, my heart.

She holds out a hand. ‘Ready to face the beasts? You’ve got me for protection now.’

I put my hand in hers. ‘Ready.’

Elly

I hobble to the table to deposit my armload of baking goodies. ‘What even is the fucking day?’

‘Christmas Eve Eve,’ Tilda informs me.

‘Ah.’ I smile. ‘Sweet. Don’t be surprised when Nan plies us with drinks all day.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Dunno. Tradition. No one wants a hangover Christmas Day, so Christmas Eve Eve is our drinking day.’

‘Drinking and baking.’ Tilda eyes the array on the table.

‘That’s more for Maisie.’

‘Aw, what? I don’t get to make Christmas cupcakes?’

I put my hands on her hips with a chuckle. ‘You can do whatever you like, babe.’

‘Think she’ll talk to me if I help her bake?’

‘She might. But first I want to talk to you.’

I hunt around in the cupboards for the rest of the ingredients. When I return to Tilda, she’s watching me expectantly.

‘Your family—what’s the deal? Why aren’t you home with them?’

‘Ugh.’ She grimaces. ‘Do we have to?’

I return my hands to her hips, heart jolting when her body bumps up against the table. I ease off, not wanting to corner her. ‘Please? I’m feeling a bit of an unbalance with you knowing all my shit.’

She sighs, glancing away. ‘When do you think they’ll be back from the park?’

I bump her. ‘There’s time to talk, Tilda. Please let me feel better about my life by hearing how shitty yours is.’

She chuckles. ‘Alright. Since you asked so nicely.’ She squeezes out from in front of me, rearranging all the tubs of sprinkles and frosting. ‘Basically, I caused my mum and her boyfriend to break up. This was like, ten years ago-ish. He was the love of her life’—she sends me a look—‘meaning he was stinking rich which meant we were too. For a couple of years anyway.’

Leaning my hip on the table, I fold my arms. ‘How did you make them break up?’

‘I told Mum something he did. And because it was so bad, she had no choice but to break up with him. She didn’t want to, but she did, and she’s blamed me for it ever since.’

‘What was the bad thing?’

Tilda remains silent, shaking her head.

‘Not gonna tell me?’

‘Maybe. Just not now. I don’t even like thinking about it. Like, it was bad bad.’

‘Fair enough.’ I purse my lips, thinking. ‘So basically what you’re saying is that your mum’s a piece of shit.’

Tilda laughs. ‘Yeah, basically. Though in her eyes it’s me who is.’

‘You were a kid, babe. I’m assuming the something he did bad was to you. She just sounds like a shit parent, if you don’t mind me saying.’

‘No, say away. It’s a nice departure from the usual narrative. I probably need to hear it more.’

‘Alright.’ I touch her back, fingering her silky strands of hair. ‘I’ll take it upon myself to tell you how awesome you are.’

Tilda

Elly wasn’t kidding. By the time evening rolls around, I’ve drunk more than I ever do pregaming for Vipers. So has Elly judging by her glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. But she deserves it, and frankly so do I. It’s nice to see her smile and interact with her siblings. Despite them squabbling all day, they clearly adore her. There’s just so much life in this house. It makes me mourn for those magical two years, the ones I destroyed.

Elly’s grandparents are a pair. Where her nan’s loud and brash, her grandad’s quiet, more thoughtful. He dozes off a lot, camped on the armchair in the living room with a black cat on either side like Giza’s sphinx.

Just being here for a day I can see why they’re struggling. They’re not young and Elly’s nan’s clearly not at peak physical health. She slept for two hours upon returning from the park and Elly had to help her down the stairs afterwards.

We managed to make a batch of cupcakes in the time that they were away, singing along to Christmas songs on the radio and dancing with Beau. The kitchen got so hot, Elly removed a layer, leaving her in only a thin white t-shirt. It was oversized, falling over her ass and hanging from her loosely. With those 80s jeans and messy orange hair, she looked like some rakish grease monkey. Wasn’t a bad look at all.

So when I’d put my finger through the frosting on my cupcake, and Elly lifted it to her mouth, both our bellies warm from Baileys, I hadn’t looked away from her blue eyes as she sucked it into her mouth, her tongue causing all sorts of interesting things to happen down below.

And of course that was when the rabble returned, wet from the minimal snow that had fallen overnight and begging to open the tub of Quality Streets.

But even amongst all the noise, Elly hadn’t taken her eyes off me, her lips quirked in a tiny smile. A smile meant just for me, an acknowledgement of whatever just passed between us.

She’s stuck close to me all day, stolen only by her nan to make up lunch for everyone. I got up to help but faltered when I caught their quiet conversation.

‘She reckons she’s straight.’

‘And what do you reckon?’

‘Whatever I reckon is just wishful thinking.’

Those words are still going around in my head, even now as we bid her grandparents goodnight, the two taking with them the dogs.

Then it’s silent in the lounge, a startling contrast to the rest of the day.

‘Ready to head?’ Elly says with a smile.

In the half light of the lounge, I can’t tell if there’s something heavy in that smile or if I’m just on high alert from all the booze and my own hyperawareness that’s been growing since our kiss in Vipers.

We swing by the kitchen on the way, where Elly raises a bottle of J?germeister. ‘Fancy a little afterparty?’

‘Always.’

She turns to grab two glasses. ‘That’s my girl.’

We left the heater running on low all day so the shed’s toasty warm when we enter. Already in our comfies, Elly waits until I’ve climbed over her to get to the wall before holding out my glass.

‘Ta.’ I take a cautious sip, never having had J?ger neat before. ‘So, what does the Elly household do on Christmas Eve?’

‘Church in the afternoon usually, then picky bits for after.’

‘Church?’

‘For the nativity,’ she explains. ‘It’s the only time we go.’

‘Cool. Wholesome.’

‘You don’t have to go, oh child of darkness.’ She turns so she’s facing me, shoulder against the wall. ‘Can skive together if you want?’

‘Won’t your grandparents mind?’

‘Nah, not if I’ve got you round.’

‘Okay, cool. Wouldn’t want to offend the baby Jesus.’

‘With the face you’ve got? He should be offended if you don’t show it.’

I look away and swirl my drink. I probably don’t need this; we already went heavy on the day drinking. My mind’s still loose and soft and so very, very aware of the girl next to me. I keep on sipping just to dull the intensity, but it only seems to heighten it.

‘Hey, Tilds?’

‘Mm?’ I look up, getting caught in her baby blues. Under the shitty shed light, the dark blue flecks in them look almost black.

‘Hope you don’t take this the wrong way,’ she says, looking almost chagrined. ‘I’ve been trying to find a way to mention this all afternoon. Sorry if I’m looking into this too much, but I can’t help notice that you’ve been looking at me a little strangely.’ She looks between my eyes. ‘Like you are right now. That you’ve been a bit weird all day. Not in a bad way, like. Just…weird.’

This close, I can feel each exhale from her nose. I feel caught in her gaze. I thought I was hiding it better than that. That stupid vodka I had earlier.

It gets too much. I look into my glass, feeling more exposed than ever and not knowing what to say.

I feel Elly shift. ‘What is it?’ She brushes back my hair. ‘You can tell me.’

Can I though? Getting with girls is Elly’s game but this is unchartered waters for me. I’m still stunned by all I felt the first time we did it.

But shit, the draw is strong. My body’s screaming to close the distance. To take just a taste. It would be so easy. She’s so close.

I lick my lips. ‘You remember our Christmas meal night out?’

Elly smiles. ‘How could I forget?’

‘Well, thing is, I’ve been kind of thinking about it ever since.’

Elly searches my eyes. ‘The kissing bit?’

‘The kissing bit.’ I draw in a breath. ‘You were really good at it. And I really liked it, and, well, I wouldn’t mind doing it again. If you wanted to. If you’re amenable.’

Elly grins. ‘If I’m amenable? Babe.’

I put a hand over my burning face. ‘Whatever. I’m being weird. Just kiss me.’ I peek at her. ‘Please.’

Elly lets out a breath that’s half amusement, half astonishment. There’s a beat before she takes my glass out my hands, setting it down with hers. Then her eyes dip to my lips, a hand coming up to thread through my hair. My scalp tingles, my eyes closing involuntarily. I feel Elly’s breath on my mouth a second before I feel her lips.

Okay, yep. So it hadn’t just been the booze that night. Elly really does kiss like a god.

I sigh through my nose. Her other hand comes to my waist, cradling me there. I reach out tentatively, fingertips grazing warmth. She pushes into me, encouraging my explorations whilst keeping her kiss so light, so soft. Feels so different to kissing a guy. Better in its own way. Still the best I’ve ever had.

After a moment, she pulls back. She regards me carefully, not quite able to quell the giddy smile on her face.

‘You alright?’ She caresses my rib with her thumb when I don’t answer. ‘This messing with your head?’

‘I think it’s the fact that it isn’t.’

‘That’s okay. Sometimes it’s just the person, you know? And you wouldn’t be the first girl to want to experiment a little.’

‘No, Elly.’ I frown, hating the thought of that. ‘That’s not what this is. That’s horrible. I wouldn’t do that.’

She shushes me, leaning forward to kiss my cheek. ‘I’m just telling you everything’s fine.’ A boyish grin erupts on her face. ‘So you really liked that, huh?’

I nod, smiling myself now. ‘Really, really.’

‘Sweet. I take it all back. This is the best Christmas ever.’

I look down to where she’s joined our hands. On her forearm is a tattoo of a pair of lungs, the right side made up of tree branches. I trace them with my nail, revelling at how soft her skin is. I move down, over her wrist, mapping the lines of her palm.

Elly’s eyes are smoky when I raise mine again. ‘Wanna do that again?’ she asks.

‘I think we probably should.’

‘I think so too.’

There’s less hesitancy this time when she cups my face. The first kiss was amazing but I know she was holding back on me. Putting a hand around her neck, I draw her against me, telling her without words that I’m not as fragile as she thinks.

Encouraged, she rolls me over, settling her body on top of mine. The weight is gorgeous; I can’t help my moan. Elly responds by gasping out a breath, rocking her hips into mine. I squeeze my eyes shut at the pressure on my clit.

I want her to touch me. I do. I want her to slip her hand beyond my waistband and do something about all that wetness.

But I’m already in over my head here. It’s just so much. Elly’s hands around my face, her thigh between mine. The fact I’m doing this with a girl and enjoying it. Kissing is one thing, but sex? Scary.

It’s hard to hold back when she’s licking my lips though, teasing them with just the firm tip of her tongue. I bet she can do more with that thing. No guy’s ever got me off with theirs before but I bet Elly can. I know she can. And judging by her teasing, she knows it too.

She breaks the kiss off with a groan, burying her face into my neck. She kisses there and I bite my lip. Wrists and necks, they both make me crazy.

‘I hope you’re still down for that sober,’ she says into my skin.

I stroke the back of her neck, scratching with my nails until she groans again. ‘I’m down for that anytime you are.’

After one last kiss, she sits up, straddling my thighs. Her mouth’s parted, lips swollen, and there’s a glassiness in her eyes that’s not just from the alcohol. I eye her checkered pyjama bottoms, knowing she’s as wet as me under there.

Taking her hands, I turn them over. ‘Why do you have lungs there?’

Elly regards the tattoo. ‘For Taylor. She has cystic fibrosis. We went through a scary time with her last year. I got it just after that.’

‘Oh, I didn’t know.’ I nudge her sleeve up, revealing a cowboy hat. ‘What about this? Are you a secret cowboy?’

Elly smirks. ‘Got a thing for shit country music.’ She touches the moth on my collarbone. ‘I like yours too. They’re all so nature-y and gothic.’

‘Pretty much what I was going for.’

‘I love this one the best.’ She taps the huge mandala on my torso, currently hidden by my top. ‘Bet that hurt to fuck.’

I grin, lifting the hem of my vest to just under my boobs. ‘First one I got too.’

‘Tilda.’ She tsks, shaking her head. ‘You absolute masochist.’

‘Still went back for more.’

‘So I see.’ She trails her fingers over the pattern, smiling each time my stomach muscles contract. ‘You’re fucking gorgeous, Tilda.’

‘Thank you,’ I whisper, a little overawed by how much she seems to mean that.

She climbs off me to kill the light, pulling the quilt up over us both when she lies down. ‘I’m big spoon tonight. No arguments.’

I show her my back, closing my eyes when her arm comes round to pull me snuggly into her body.

Twin sighs leave us, then there’s only quiet.

‘I hope this doesn’t change anything,’ I whisper into the dark.

Elly strokes my stomach, dipping under my top every so often. She’s quiet for a long time before she finally whispers back, ‘I hope it does.’