Chapter 6 #2
Leah had spent most of her adult life in the gym trying to remove the weight she gained after her parents’ divorce.
Her mom stopped with the home-cooked family meals for a while and reverted to processed food and enough takeaways that Leah was on first-name terms with the manager at the local Burger King.
The sheer amount consumed in her teens was the same reason she couldn’t set foot in one anymore.
But every cloud meant Leah was a femme with the body of Simone Biles—not quite.
“Do you mind if I join you?” Ariana asked.
Leah nodded.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Just enjoying the peace and quiet.”
“And I’ve ruined that for you. That’s terrible. I should go.” Ariana turned to walk away; playfully, Leah tugged her back—it was instinctive.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Leah laughed—quietly.
Leah’s arm casually linked with Ariana’s as she pulled her back in line; she didn’t remove it. She should’ve done, but it felt so—normal.
Leah felt this calm wash over her like a showerhead hovering above.
What if they could be friends?
She would always have love for Ariana, and maybe a part of her would occasionally fall back into the place of wondering what could’ve been, but Ariana had always been good at keeping her grounded.
She helped Leah put life into perspective, feel and understand what really mattered, and like some unseen superpower, she had this ability to help Leah feel hopeful, and in that moment, she was hopeful that they could reach a place of mutual happiness.
“Did you come out here looking for me?” Leah asked.
“Yes, and no.” Ariana smiled, looking down at Leah’s arm looped through hers. “I also like the peace and quiet, especially out here. I’ve spent a lot of time walking up and down this beach in recent years.”
“What made you think I’d be out here?”
“Instinct, I guess. Besides, there isn’t a whole lot of places you can walk out here. I figured you would avoid the wooded area,” Ariana laughed.
“Don’t—” Leah shuddered.
“Me and Grace sat out on the veranda last year for hours, and the woods incident made us laugh hysterically, like I couldn’t breathe.”
“I’m glad me sleep-walking to my death amused you,” Leah judged.
“It is still, to this day, the funniest thing I have ever been a part of.” Ariana laughed like nobody was watching, and Leah adored that.
The corners of her eyes crinkled, her mouth stretched into a wide grin, her laugh was hearty but muted so as not to break policy.
Ariana’s laugh was infectious; she pictured her and Grace laughing uncontrollably on the veranda.
She pictured it so vividly, almost like she was there.
Her laughter lines deepened in the dimly lit moonlight with each burst of laughter, and Leah could’ve watched her all day.
It was a strange feeling that boiled within Leah’s core. The sense of contentment that she only ever felt around two people—Grace and Ariana. It returned as if they’d never been apart. Maybe it was a Harrison trait.
“I can’t believe you just followed me. You could’ve tried to stop me,” Leah tutted.
“I was curious to see where you would end up,” Ariana admitted.
They came to a natural halt where a fallen tree blocked their pathway; they turned and headed back toward the lake house.
“The way you shuffled down the hallway with your arms outstretched in your sweet little hedgehog-themed pyjamas.” Ariana unlinked her arm from Leah’s to re-enact said walk.
“I did not walk like that!” Leah laughed.
“How would you know? You were fast asleep.”
Annoyingly, she made a solid point. Leah had no idea how she acted, walked, talked, or looked when she sleepwalked—obviously. Although Grace did record her once about ten years prior; it became a big hit on social media—no joke. She was known as ‘Lunging Leah’ for twelve months after the fact.
Oddly, her chosen movement when she sleepwalked was a lunge. It made for a viral video when she climbed on top of her best friend’s bed and began a workout routine over the top of a very confused Grace.
“I didn’t believe you actually, until that night.
I was amazed! I followed you out into the darkness, creeping behind you on my tiptoes so I didn’t wake you.
Grace followed me with a flashlight. I was so curious,” Ariana returned her arms to a normal vertical position.
“You tried three times to open the gate.” She couldn’t hide her amusement as she recalled the story.
“And then you just toddled off into the woods mumbling something about how you used to live in a tree, and you wanted to move back home with your family and build monuments made from hickory sticks.”
“Hickory sticks? I was that specific, huh?” Leah chuckled.
“Oh, absolutely. You were very specific about the wood type; it was clearly important to you,” Ariana smirked.
“We could’ve been murdered!” Leah rolled her eyes. “You let me wander into a forest in the middle of nowhere. We literally could’ve been a serial killer’s next victims—three in one. It was a dream situation.”
“Yes, but if I hadn’t let you walk into the woods, I wouldn’t have witnessed you talking to tiny imaginary bears,” Ariana burst out laughing.
“You were petting them.” Her shoulders started shaking with each chuckle; her whole body seemed to move with the rhythm of her laughter as though she had gone back in time, reliving the moment.
“And what did I say again?” Leah played along.
“You said—” Ariana tried to compose herself, “well, you asked them if they would like to come for breakfast in the morning, and if they did, you would serve them a bowl of porridge because your friend Goldilocks told you they loved that.” Ariana was physically wheezing.
The laughter was at her expense, but she didn’t care. Just hearing Ariana’s laughter was worth the short-term humiliation.
The sleepwalking didn’t happen often, not that she knew of, but if Leah came with a disclaimer, somewhere in the terms and conditions it would say, ‘may wander into the night looking for tiny mice-sized bears’—she should really try and get help.
The laughter settled. Leah stole a glance or two at Ariana; she seemed to be contemplating something.
“I’m sorry, you know,” Ariana apologised.
“For what?” Leah’s heart beat a little faster as she waited for Ariana to elaborate.
“For everything. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you . . .I,” she choked on her words.
“I loved you, Leah.” Ariana sucked in a big gulp of air just as she said loved, which halted the last letter being said and made it sound like love.
“I know,” Leah smiled.
“If I could go back, I—”
Grace catcalled them from the veranda. They were stood a few feet away from the break in the wall that allowed them to cut through to the lake house.
If you could go back, you would what?
What would you do?
They both waved unenthusiastically in Grace’s direction. They were getting somewhere; an honest conversation was long overdue, and as always, Grace had impeccable timing.
“Guys, quick, Dad is trying to do the sleeping yogi pose and now he’s stuck,” Grace cackled.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Ariana rolled her eyes. “Do I need to call an ambulance?” Ariana yelled.
“Nope, but please come here. It looks like his legs are separate from his torso.”
Ariana knew without asking that the twins—aka her delightful, YouTube-obsessed, slightly psychotic nephews—were responsible.
The first year they discovered TikTok, Ariana ended up in hospital with a broken rib because they convinced her she could do an amateur dance challenge.
There was nothing amateur about it, apart from her ability to do it successfully, of course.
“I should go and make sure he doesn’t kill himself,” Ariana sighed.
“Wait—” Leah reached out, her breath caught in her throat. Ariana stopped in her tracks, turning toward Leah with a curious expression. The silence lingered.
Can we finish the conversation?
Is there something you wanted to say?
Do you still love—no, that thought was inappropriate and strictly forbidden.
Ariana waited; she gently squeezed Leah’s hand, a silent encouragement.
With a trembling voice, she said, “It doesn’t matter.”
“Are you sure?”
Leah nodded.
Ariana looked up at the veranda. The space between the glass door and the railings was now shadowless.
She turned back, her gaze lingering on Leah’s face.
Without a word, she reached out to gently adjust the beanie hat on Leah’s head.
Her touch was careful; the gesture felt intimate beneath the lightly illuminated porch lights.
Ariana’s fingers brushed against Leah’s cheek.
The simple act of adjusting Leah’s hat felt so much more than that.
The rush of heat, the tension, the subtle electricity that sent shivers down Leah’s spine.
Ariana’s fingers lingered against Leah’s skin, not wanting to let go.
“If you don’t turn the hem up to this point, it’ll itch your head,” Ariana explained, her eyes unwavering.
“Wait, is this your hat?” Leah said, a puzzled expression on her face.
She nodded with a smug look on her face. “Grace borrowed it a while back.”
“Oh god, I’m sorry, do you want it back?” Leah attempted to remove the hat, but Ariana caught her arms before she could reach.
“It looks better on you than it ever did me.” Ariana smiled. “Keep it.”
“I can’t do that,” Leah argued.
“Think of it as a memento from the trip.”
“I ca—”
Ariana started walking away before Leah could finish. It looked as though she was keeping the hat, which secretly she was grateful for because she’d forgotten hers. It was still on the top of her chest of drawers along with the gloves she made herself promise not to forget.
“Are you coming?”
Leah nodded and followed the crunching sound of Ariana’s boots as they made their way up the gravel path. She was still reeling from the intimacy of the gesture. A simple adjustment of her hat, but one that left a lingering promise.