Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The corridor outside the changing rooms smelled of sweat and that sticky-sweet fruit body mist half the girls wore like it was a compulsory part of their uniform.
Emma pulled the P.E. office door shut behind her, her water bottle under one arm and her clipboard tucked beneath the other.
Practice had gone well—clean passes, no faffing around on the court—and for once she didn’t have to shout above teenage chaos.
She paused and took a breath. It was almost Monday evening, and the worst part of the week was behind her…or so she thought.
Freya came out of the changing rooms alone, her hair damp and tied in a loose braid, her rucksack hanging low on her shoulder.
Emma stilled. Freya hadn’t seen her yet.
She was looking down, fiddling with her phone, her expression somewhere between thoughtful and tired.
Emma’s stomach twisted. She’d seen that look before…
on herself, in the mirror, some twenty-odd years ago.
It was uncanny how much of herself she saw in Freya when she least expected it.
Then Freya looked up and paused, half-smiling.
They were only a few feet apart, and nobody else was around. The rest of the team was still in the changing room, giggling and stomping and shouting about homework, but here, in this quiet stretch of corridor, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of them.
“Hi, Miss.”
That formal title stung, even though it was habit and appropriate for the setting they were in. Emma smiled, doing her best to keep her heart from pounding out of her chest. “Hi, Freya.”
Emma didn’t know what Freya was aware of when it came to the meeting last Friday, and right now, she was terrified of saying too much. So, she wouldn’t say anything at all. The second she did, she would spew out anything that came to mind, and in this moment, that was dangerous.
Freya adjusted the strap of her bag, then glanced around. “Good practice today.”
Emma nodded. “You played well. Your passing’s getting tighter.”
“Thanks.” Freya hesitated. “I’ve been working on it.”
Freya’s tone hinted at ‘I’m trying to impress you’, but Emma understood.
A lot of kids wanted to impress their teachers, especially when it came to sport.
The fact that Emma was her sister likely didn’t make any difference.
Emma glanced towards the changing room door, then back to Freya. “Are you heading home now?”
Freya nodded. “Ben’s waiting in the car. Carmen has a late shift.”
Emma tried to keep her smile natural. “Right.”
Another pause. Another breath.
Freya shifted her weight and looked up at her again, seemingly a little braver this time. “Did the meeting on Friday go okay?”
Emma cleared her throat. “It did. I mean, it was a lot. For everyone. But yes, I think it went okay.”
“Nia said um…that maybe you’ll write to me.”
“I will. If you’d like that.”
“Yes, please.” Freya nodded enthusiastically. “I would. I really would.”
Emma exhaled a quiet and controlled breath.
Her heart was still pounding, but the fact that Freya hadn’t bolted and hadn’t put up a wall meant everything.
Then came the enthusiasm Emma hadn’t expected.
God, her heart was pounding for different reasons now.
Freya…wanted Emma in her life. “Could I ask a quick question?”
Freya tilted her head. “Sure.”
“How would you prefer it? Letter, email, voice note, carrier pigeon?”
“Not voice note.” Freya shook her head and laughed. A real, deep, belly laugh. “I hate them.”
“Me, too.”
“And I’m scared of birds, so please don’t send a pigeon to my house.”
Emma grinned. “God, I’m terrified of them. The way they get all flappy and dive-bomb at you when you’re out shopping.” Emma shivered. “Gives me the creeps.”
“Are we both scared of them because we’re sisters, miss?”
Emma opened her mouth to respond, but she didn’t know what to say. Even though it had been confirmed, and even though Emma knew she was allowed to be Freya’s sister, she still felt…out of sorts about the title. “Maybe.”
“How about we go with email?”
“Email it is,” Emma said, trying to sound relaxed and not like her lungs were deflating with relief. “I’ll send something this week if that’s okay?”
“Okay.” Freya threw a thumb over her shoulder and glanced back at the double doors that would lead to the car park. “I should go. Ben will be waiting.”
“Of course.” Emma stepped back and smiled. “Have a good evening, Freya.”
Freya backed up, only stopping when she collided with the doors. “Miss?”
Emma’s eyebrows lifted. “Yeah?”
“You don’t have to call me ‘Freya’ like I’m just a student, you know.” Freya’s gaze softened. “Not when it’s just us.”
Emma’s chest tightened. “What should I call you then?”
“Maybe just Freya.” Freya gave a tiny, almost-embarrassed smile. “Like…in a normal voice. Not a teacher voice, just a sister voice.”
Emma nodded slowly, her throat thick with emotion. “Okay.”
“Bye, Emma. I can’t wait for your email.” Freya’s smile grew as she gazed back at Emma, and then she turned and left the corridor.
Emma stood frozen, the space they’d just shared suddenly too quiet and too lonely. She looked down at the clipboard still tucked under her arm and then to the place Freya had just been standing in. Something new was forming in her chest; something tentative and vulnerable and impossibly precious.
It wasn’t everything. But it was a start.
And that was more than Emma ever thought she’d get.
Vanessa glanced up from her laptop the moment she heard the front door close.
The thud of Emma’s bag hitting the hallway floor was followed by the soft thump of her trainers being toed off, and then came the familiar sound of her breathing.
That subtle shift in energy always came before Emma said a single word.
Vanessa closed the lid of her laptop and sat back against the cushions on the couch, waiting impatiently for her wife to enter the room.
Emma appeared in the doorway, her cheeks pink from the cold air this evening, her hair pulled up into a loose bun.
Her netball hoodie was half-zipped, revealing a tank top likely damp with sweat.
When Emma had netball practice, she put her all into it.
There was no half-arsed running around, and no poor attempt at finding something for her students to do.
If they were potentials for the team, Emma took whatever she could get out of them.
She looked tired this evening, but not in the way she had for the last couple of weeks.
Vanessa smiled. “Hi, beautiful.”
Emma didn’t respond immediately. She just crossed the room, dropped onto the couch beside her, and melted into Vanessa’s side. Vanessa let her settle, one arm sliding naturally around Emma’s shoulders.
And then a long, quiet breath left Emma’s body.
“How was today?” Vanessa kissed the top of her head. “Talk to me.”
“I…saw her.”
Vanessa’s hand stilled against Emma’s arm. “Freya?”
Emma nodded, her cheek brushing against Vanessa’s collarbone. “She was leaving the changing rooms after netball. I came out of the office and we just…bumped into each other.”
Vanessa gave her a gentle squeeze. “Did you talk?”
“We did.” Emma pulled back just enough to look up at Vanessa. Her eyes were wide and shining. “Properly. Not teacher to student. Just me and her.”
Vanessa’s heart expanded. God, she hadn’t thought this moment would arrive. “How did it go?”
“I don’t know,” Emma said with a laugh that sounded equal parts overwhelmed and giddy. “It was two minutes in a corridor, but I didn’t feel as nervous as I thought I would.”
“Tell me everything.”
Emma sat up and faced Vanessa, one leg tucked under her. “She was a little quiet at first, but that’s to be expected. She initially called me miss, which again…is something I would expect. Then she mentioned the meeting. Turns out Nia told her I’d be writing to her.”
“How did she seem when she mentioned the meeting?”
“She seemed fine. When I asked if she’d like me to write to her, she was really excited. Way more enthusiastic than I thought she would be, anyway.”
Vanessa beamed a smile. “This is a good start, don’t you think?”
“I do. But here’s the biggest thing. She told me I don’t have to call her Freya, like she’s just a student to me. She wants me to call her Freya in a ‘sister’ voice.” Emma’s voice threatened to betray her as she relayed that piece of information.
Vanessa’s brows lifted. “Wow.” Her response wasn’t much, but she didn’t know what else to say. Freya had really come through for Emma today. “Oh, Emma. This is fantastic!”
“I know.” Emma’s voice cracked again. “I know it’s nothing big, and it doesn’t mean she wants anything more than a polite email from me, but God, Vanessa. It’s the first time she’s looked at me like I’m not just some random woman who has made everything in her life complicated.”
Vanessa took Emma’s hand. “It is something big. You didn’t cross a line. You didn’t push. She met you there all on her own.”
Emma nodded as she chewed her bottom lip. Vanessa wished she wouldn’t hold her emotions in, but they would spill out when she needed them to. “She laughed, babe. She fully laughed at something I said.”
Vanessa leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. “Of course she did. You’re the funniest softie I know.”
Emma snorted. “I’m not funny.”
“You are,” Vanessa said as she drew back and smiled. “And you’re gentle. And you’ve got this big, stubborn heart that just wants to love people. She felt that today.”
Emma exhaled. “I just didn’t want to mess it up. I hope I didn’t mess it up.”
“You didn’t.” Vanessa sat back, still holding Emma’s hand. “You did exactly what she needed. You didn’t force anything. You gave her a little space, but a little invitation.”
“She’s amazing, you know. Confident but quiet. Thoughtful. She’s got this smart-arse edge sometimes that reminds me of me.”
Vanessa grinned. “God help us all if there’s two of you.”
Emma laughed as she relaxed back onto the couch with Vanessa. They fell silent, and Vanessa took the opportunity to remind herself of what this home meant to them. The love it held, the opportunity, the vulnerability. Vanessa wouldn’t want to be anywhere else tonight.
“So, when are you going to write to her?”
“Tomorrow,” Emma said. “When I get home from work, I’m going to spend a couple of hours focusing. I think I know what I want to say.”
“Do you want any help with it?” Vanessa stroked her fingertips up Emma’s arm through her hoodie. “You know I’ll help in any way I can.”
“No. I think I need to do this bit on my own. Thanks, though.”
Vanessa nodded, that familiar pride for her wife blooming inside of her. “You’ll be brilliant.”
“I just…want to be enough,” Emma whispered. “That’s all I care about right now. Being enough for her.”
“You already are.”