Chapter 28 #2
She stopped before she’d even registered the voice.
Not Miss, but Emma. She pivoted, fighting back the smile threatening to break out, and there she was.
Freya was jogging out of the adjacent corridor that led away from the English block, her rucksack bouncing against her hip.
Her braids had frayed at the ends, wisps curling around her temples, and she seemed out of breath.
Had she…run to catch Emma before she left?
“Hey,” Emma said, trying to remain casual as she adjusted the strap on her bag. “You alright?”
Freya nodded quickly. “Yeah. Great. I was hoping I’d see you before you left.”
“Lucky timing,” Emma said with a smile. “I was just about to escape before the caretaker locks me in for the night.”
Freya’s mouth pulled into a small, bright grin. She rocked on her heels, suddenly a little shy, yet…not. “So, when are we going for dinner together?”
Emma blinked, caught off guard by Freya’s sudden questioning. “Dinner?”
“You said in your email last night. Don’t you remember?” Freya rushed on, her eyes wide as her words tumbled over themselves. “You said that maybe one day we could have dinner. Just me and you.”
“I do remember. Of course I remember. I just didn’t expect you to be thinking about it so soon.”
“Oh, my God. I’ve been thinking about it all day. Like, where we could go. Or what we could eat. I don’t mind pizza, but I like noodles better. Ben says there’s a place near the retail park that does proper ones in a bowl as big as your head.”
A laugh slipped out of Emma before she could catch it. The image of Freya with a bowl bigger than her head was so perfect that she wanted to tuck it away somewhere safe. “That’s a very strong recommendation.”
“I know you said there’s no rush, but I’m excited. I can’t wait.”
Emma’s heart soared. “I’m excited, too. I think having food together will be a nice change from only seeing one another here.”
Freya angled her head. “So why can’t we just do it at your house? Isn’t that easier? We can have dinner at a dining table like normal people do. Or on your couch while we watch telly. Ben and Carmen eat in front of the TV sometimes, but Carmen always complains about the crumbs.”
And there it was. The gentle reminder that Freya was nothing more than a twelve-year-old girl who didn’t always understand why things had to be the way they were.
“I really love that you want to do something like that, and maybe one day we will have dinner at my house, but right now…it’s probably better if we meet somewhere that we both feel comfortable in. Like a restaurant or a cafe.”
“Why?” Freya frowned, quite clearly confused. “I’m not a weirdo.”
“Oh, really? That’s a shame, because I am a weirdo.
Always have been…always will be.” Emma shrugged, trying to make this moment a little less tense than it was beginning to feel.
“It’s not about you, I promise. It’s about making sure everything we do is okay with the people around us.
Carmen and Ben…Nia, too. If we keep things clear and easy to understand, then you won’t feel too overwhelmed with all of this. ”
Freya nodded as she chewed her lip. “Okay. That makes sense.” She hesitated, then added quietly, “It’s just that I get nervous when it’s busy in restaurants.
There’s too many people and I don’t know where to look.
I don’t like when tables are close together and you can hear what everyone’s saying. My brain goes…fuzzy.”
Emma nodded, making a mental note of what Freya was saying for future food outings.
God, she wanted to wrap her sister up in a hug and tell her that she understood.
That it was okay to feel anxious and unsure in social situations.
And then she wanted to wring her mum’s fucking neck for likely being the cause.
Jane never took Emma out to meet people or interact.
She’d had to learn that all by herself. “Thanks for telling me that. It’s really helpful. ”
“It is?”
“Yeah. Of course,” Emma said, relaxing her posture a touch.
It was beginning to feel a little uptight.
“Because now I know what to plan for. I don’t want to take you anywhere that’s going to make you feel uncomfortable.
We can eat somewhere quiet. Maybe…in a booth?
I always think of them as being built-in shields for those days when you don’t really want to interact with anyone outside of your table. ”
Freya grinned. “Booths are elite.”
“Absolutely elite.”
Freya tugged one of her braids over her shoulder and twisted the end. “So, will you ask her then? Carmen? You’re an adult, so she’ll listen to you more than she’ll listen to me. She already says I’m not allowed to go too fast.”
Even though Emma had already spoken to Carmen about it, she wouldn’t tell Freya that.
If Carmen had told Freya to slow down, then Emma wasn’t going to contradict that.
“Sure. I’ll mention it. That’s no problem.
But…if she says not yet, it’s not because she doesn’t want us to have dinner with one another.
It’s just that she’s making sure your head and your heart aren’t taking in too much at once, okay? ”
Freya nodded. “I know. If she says not yet, then…not yet.” She glanced down the corridor towards reception. “Ben’s picking me up at the gates.”
“Did you want to walk together?” Emma asked. “I’m heading for my car if you’re ready to leave now…”
“Yeah. That would be good.” Freya said that as though it was the most normal thing in the world. And one day, it would be. God, it just had to be.
They fell into step, footsteps pounding in unison as they took the ramp towards the exit.
A couple of older students slouched past them, offered Emma a distracted ‘Miss’, and kept going.
As they reached the reception area, Emma noted just how dark it was outside.
The winter nights were officially here, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she would one day be lounging on the couch, drinking hot chocolate with Freya.
“Are you warm enough?” Emma asked as they stepped outside and cut across the paving towards the main gates.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Still sweating from running after you.” Freya offered a simple lift of the shoulder and slowed her pace. Emma matched it, unsure of what was running through Freya’s mind. “Can I ask you something?”
Emma smiled. “You can ask me anything.”
“Is it true that you’re a lesbian and you’re married to Mrs Hughes, who teaches Business Studies?”
Emma loved how Freya explained exactly who Mrs Hughes was. “That’s…quite the question.”
Freya winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that people say things, and I overhear them. Someone said Mrs Hughes is a lesbian, and they caught you two kissing in the car one morning.”
“Well, that’ll teach us to kiss outside school, won’t it?” Emma nudged Freya’s shoulder and smiled. “But yes, I am a lesbian, and Mrs Hughes is my wife. I just use my old surname so you lot don’t get confused.”
“I’ve never known a real lesbian before.”
Emma tried with all her strength to hold back the laugh threatening in her throat.
She didn’t want Freya to feel silly for saying that.
“Well, I’m sorry to tell you that it’s all very similar to your house.
We got married, we pay the bills and the mortgage, and we argue over who stacks the dishwasher. ”
“You argue about the dishwasher?”
“Religiously,” Emma said. “Vanessa swears that the bowls belong on the top shelf. I, depending on the depth of the bowl, believe they go in the bottom rack.”
“That’s crazy behaviour!”
Emma narrowed her eyes. “For who? Which side of the argument are you on?”
Freya sighed as she pondered her answer for a moment. “Well, yours because you’re my sister. We have to stick together. But then I really like Mrs Hughes, and I don’t want her to feel bad or ganged up on. Do I have to choose?”
“Absolutely not. Vanessa always gets her way, anyway.”
They walked across the grounds in silence, and Freya edged fractionally closer to Emma without realising she’d done so. That tiny fact left Emma feeling tremendous amounts of love in her chest.
“So,” Freya said suddenly. “What’s it like being a lesbian?”
Emma considered her response. She didn’t want Freya to think there was only one response that fit the shape of every lesbian out there.
She also had to remember that Freya was only twelve.
“For me, it’s just who I am. I fell in love with a woman who is the greatest person I know.
We made a life together. Some people have opinions about it, but most people don’t care.
And the ones who do care, we don’t give much of our time to. ”
“That’s a good idea.”
“But if people end up knowing you and I are sisters, and anyone says anything unkind to you, you tell an adult. Me, Mrs Hughes, Ms Hamilton. Anyone you feel comfortable with. But most people are just curious, and that’s okay.”
“I don’t think they were being mean,” Freya said. “It’s more like…they like to say ‘lesbian’ in a silly voice because they think it’s a swear word.”
“Yep. I get that.”
Freya chewed the inside of her cheek as she stopped at the gates with Emma. “Is that why Mrs Hughes went to the meeting with you? I saw her going up the stairs to the staffroom that day.”
“That is why she was there, yes.”
“Can I meet her properly? Not as my teacher but as your wife?”
God, when Freya said things like that, Emma had to wonder if she was so articulate at that age. She doubted it since she rarely strung two sentences together in public, but it was heartwarming to see. Freya had so much potential. “Of course. But again, one day…”
Emma glanced across the street. A navy Volvo sat waiting, its hazard lights blinking.
Ben lifted a hand from the steering wheel and waved at Emma, and she quickly returned one of her own.
Freya didn’t move towards the car right away.
Instead, she hovered, that restless bouncing on the spot another reminder that she was just a child.
“Thank you for walking with me.” Freya cast her gaze on the ground, then looked back up at Emma. “And for the email.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I like walking with you.”
Freya smiled. “Me, too.”
“Alright, off you go. Ben will get stuck in the rush hour traffic if you don’t head off soon.”
Freya took a few steps away, then spun back suddenly. “If Carmen says yes to dinner, can we go somewhere with a booth? And not loud? And can we order chips as well as whatever we’re having? I love chips.”
Emma laughed fully and without restraint for the first time in Freya’s company. What a lovely, genuine kid. “Booth, quiet, chips. I can work with that.”
Freya nodded. “Okay.” She hovered for another moment, then in a tiny voice that managed to find its way deep into Emma’s heart, she said, “Bye, Emma.”
“Bye, Freya. Email me whenever you like. No pressure.”
Freya smiled, then jogged the last few steps to the car. Ben leaned across to push the door open from the inside. Once she was safely buckled in, Emma lifted a hand and waved, her heart in her throat as Ben drove away and Freya twisted in her seat to stare back at Emma through the rear window.
That small, quiet smile was there again, the one that had felt like acceptance in the sports hall and felt like belonging now. Emma remained rooted to her spot, smiling until the car was out of sight.
Booths. Quiet. Chips.
God, she’s definitely my sister.
Emma tucked her chin into the collar of her coat and turned back towards the car park.
Vanessa would be at home by now, pretending not to check her phone every five minutes for a message.
Emma could already picture her wife’s reaction when she told her about them walking out of school together.
But that was Vanessa. Always there, waiting with bated breath and secure arms.
She pulled her phone from her pocket as she walked, typing with stiff fingers from the plummeting temperatures.
Walking to the car. Tell you everything when I’m home. By the way, she wants chips.
Three dots appeared immediately.
Of course she does. She’s definitely yours. Drive safe, baby.
Emma slipped the phone away and inhaled a deep breath as the wind whipped around her. For the first time, the space between school and home didn’t feel like an ocean she had to cross. It felt like a path she could walk, one steady step after another, towards a life big enough for all of them.