Chapter 18
Madeleine
Sapphire presented the ice cream cone to me with the most radiant smile, and I guess I was supposed to look at what she was handing me, but I was too hopeless for that, because I just found myself staring at that smile of hers.
“One pistachio almond,” she said. “My treat.”
“Ordering like a pro these days,” I said, taking the cone. “Thanks, Sapphire.”
She stifled a giggle, catching up to my side and shoulder-bumping me as we headed outside into the still-warm night air, stopping at the crossing towards Millennium Park. “I rehearsed,” she said. “Because, you know—nothing says competent adult like having to practice placing an ice cream order.”
“Hey. All these things are learned. Better late than never.” I paused. “And, you know, nothing makes better learning motivation than ice cream.”
The light changed, and we hurried across to Millennium Park—the perfect place to cap off an architecture tour, the curved surface of Cloud Gate reflecting with the mirror image of the Chicago skyline glowing at night. The park was quiet at this time of night on a weekday, and Sapphire and I scored prime spots under the trees on the stairs, like a cozy little hideaway nook just for the two of us as the sounds of the city at night hummed around us. I dropped down on the bench first, and when Sapphire swept her skirt forward and sat down next to me, resting her head on my shoulder, I inwardly panicked at the same time it felt like everything was perfect.
I—didn’t know how to handle this. Still felt like the other shoe was about to drop, and I was tense. But she was so… good.
We hadn’t talked much about anything serious over the tour—she’d clearly had something on her mind when I found her at the south end of the bridge, wearing that cute little hat over her braided hair and that dress with a ruffled neckline and the little ankle boots we got at Primark that she was so in love with, and she’d been staring out over the river with a hundred things unspoken in her features, the wind blowing loose strands of hair in long, silky streams around her. I’d stopped there taking her in with that second where she didn’t notice me, marveling at how movie-scene-perfect she was, but when I’d greeted her with a quick hug—I wasn’t sure what the correct greeting was at this stage, and I’d awkwardly shuffled for a second before I’d settled on the hug—her smile hadn’t reached her eyes.
“Are you okay?” I’d said, and she sighed, still smiling through it but only barely.
“I’m really happy to be here. Just had some stuff today…”
I’d paused, wondering what I dared say. “Is it about the interview?”
She’d shifted from one foot to the other, and after a second of nervous silence where I wondered if I’d gone too far with her, taken advantage of her—if she hated me now—she’d stepped forward and hugged me again. “Let’s talk about it later. I just want to spend some time with you.”
And so we spent time together. I’d taken her from the DuSable Bridge and over to the Tribune Tower, a little embarrassed at first to share my process and how I went about a study or a sketch, but Sapphire went through nodding wide-eyed taking in every bit like it was the most fascinating thing in the world, and by the time we were up at AMA Plaza and she was patiently listening to me ramble about van der Rohe, I was fully locked in. She had absolutely the right breathless reaction to the Chicago Board of Trade Building, and I found myself spending so long at each stop that I had to cut out half the places I wanted to visit, but I made sure we got to see The Rookery and talk about how I wanted to hate Frank Lloyd Wright just to be contrary, but I couldn’t ever find out how.
It was late by the time I finished up at the Art Institute, but honestly, looking over the buildings with an eye towards explaining them for someone else felt like it deconstructed something about the way I saw them in my mind, and I was bubbling up with inspiration for some new sketches, some new designs.
But most importantly, that dark shadow had passed out of Sapphire’s expression, and by the time we queued up at the Baskin-Robbins, she was as brilliant as ever, and once we were sitting there on the bench under the shadow of the Bean—that was, Cloud Gate, if you were pretentious—all I could think was how easy it felt having Sapphire next to me.
How good it was. And why I felt so scared. Was that just what happened when you had something beautiful? You were terrified of losing it? Dating Rose and Tristan had both been experiences where I wasn’t too bothered about the idea of driving them away, so—was this just what it was supposed to feel like?
“Thank you,” Sapphire said softly from next to me, and I pulled my thoughts back together, resting my head against hers.
“Thank you ,” I said. I paused before I added, “It’s delicious.”
She gave me an odd look. “The park?”
“Mm. Yes. Exactly. I’m about to get down on all fours and eat the flowers.”
“Oh—” She put a hand over her face. “The ice cream. Right. I’m really glad… so glad you like it. Oh my god. Are you sure you don’t want to go on a date with someone smarter?”
I felt like my chest would burst from the bubbling feelings hearing her say that—we hadn’t actually said that magical word date this whole time, and I’d gaslit myself a little bit here and there and a million other times that actually she was just enjoying this as a casual, friendly hangout and she didn’t want to date me, but she’d said the magic word, and I was putty in her hands. As if I hadn’t been from the moment she’d tapped my shoulder asking for help running from a creepy butler.
“I think you’re plenty smart,” I laughed. “And I like being on a date with you, thank you very much.”
“Mm. Me too.” She paused. “Being on a date with you. Not being on a date with myself.”
“You’re dripping.”
“Oh—” She turned back to her ice cream cone, licking up a long dribble of melting ice cream on the side, and I felt my face flush with a prickle of heat seeing her tongue dragging up the side…
I looked away. Luckily, Sapphire didn’t seem to notice me staring at her tongue thinking horrible things.
“Maybe we should have gotten cups,” she laughed.
No, I liked seeing her lick it. “Ice cream dripping down the side just incentivizes you to eat it faster.”
She didn’t say anything for a second, and when I looked back, she had that contemplative look on her face again, and just when I was wondering if I should have asked, she said, quietly, “Andrew came around.”
“What—” I almost dropped my ice cream, turning to her. “To your apartment?”
She nodded, solemnly. I suppressed the spike of nerves. The way this girl just kept beaming like a little ray of sunshine through everything… I slipped a hand to her back.
“Are you okay? What did he do?”
“I didn’t let him inside or anything. I’m fine. We just… talked. Through the door.”
“Talked about what? Was he trying to bring you back?”
“Ugh…” She hung her head. “In so many words, I guess. He’s persistent. I guess it is his job, though…”
“What did you say?”
She pointed her feet, kicking idly at the ground. “That… my parents made it clear they didn’t want a lesbian daughter. And that he could take it up with them.”
“You—told him?” My heart jumped, pounding faster, and she nodded. “How did it go? Was it okay?”
“It was awful. He was… supportive, I guess, weirdly.”
I paused. “And… that’s awful?”
She shrugged, licking her ice cream absently, shoulders hunched. “I mean… yeah. I’d rather he broke down the door and beat me to death.”
“Well, I hate to argue, but I’m kinda glad he didn’t do that.”
She smiled, but it was a faint ghost of a thing. “Just… I don’t know. It feels messy. And weird. And like… I don’t know what to do with myself now. And it just makes me sad, you know? That… that my parents didn’t… that they couldn’t…”
Her voice wobbled, and I didn’t hesitate—I slipped a hand around to her side, and I held her against me, where she turned and pressed her face against my shoulder, her shoulders quivering as she whispered.
“I-I’m so sorry. I’m trying to be cool.”
“Don’t. Try to be honest. I think that’s a lot cooler.”
She hunched her shoulders. “There’s not much cool about crying into my ice cream cone over stupid parents. That’s so… five-year-old-coded.”
“You’re listening too much to Britt… she’s rubbing off on you, talking like that.” I turned and brushed my face against the top of her head, a small, affectionate thing that never felt right with anyone else but came so easily with Sapphire. What was I doing? What was happening? “It’s not just crying over stupid parents. It’s… processing the grief of losing the people who’ve been your entire universe for your whole life. What could be bigger than that?”
She sighed, shoulders slumping, and she was quiet for a while before she murmured, “I didn’t want… that to be my entire life.”
“I know. And now it’s not. But the process to get there isn’t going to be easy. So… you know. Cry, scream, curse the world, throw things. Offer’s still open if you want me to go fight Andrew.”
“Come to think of it, I think he did Krav Maga when he was younger…”
“Okay, so I’m not fighting Andrew, but everything else is still on the table.”
She laughed, and she turned, burying her face in my shoulder. “It doesn’t feel real, you know?” she said, her voice small, soft, delicate—like a bird with a broken wing, still learning how to fly again. “That I’m actually out of there. I have dreams… maybe more like nightmares, every night, where I’m back there. And it’s all—it’s all so scary. I wasn’t scared living in it every day, but now that I’m looking back over it from somewhere else, it’s terrifying. I can’t believe I lived in that, and just…”
I gave her a gentle squeeze. “I think that’s normal. You can’t really see a situation from within it. I think…” I faltered, looking up at the branches swaying above us. “I think it was the same with me and Tristan… not really the same scale, just—didn’t really see it while I was in it. Saw the situation for what it really was the second I left.” I paused. “Sorry. It’s nothing like your situation. I shouldn’t compare them.”
She kicked her feet. “I’m kind of flattered by any comparison to you.”
“Please. Don’t sell yourself short,” I laughed, and she sighed, looking up and giving me a small smile.
“Same to you. Um… Madeleine, can I ask you something awkward?”
“The more awkward, the better. Hit me with all you’ve got.”
She laughed, a little more light coming into her eyes, and she looked away shyly. “Um… the other night. In the condo. Er… you mentioned how everything’s fragile, with my situation and… well. That we couldn’t—you know— do anything because what if something happens and it goes wrong, and…”
My stomach tightened, twisting up in a knot, and I had to take a second to sort out my feelings and speak normally. “Are you having second thoughts?” I said, trying to sound casual, and she whipped over to shake her head at me, almost dropping her ice cream.
“No—no, not at all. Nothing like that. I still really…” She looked away, a soft pink flush creeping over her cheeks. That she would be that nervous, shy, over the concept of being on a date with me… it wasn’t something I could really get my head around. “It’s just—if something does happen. Is that… it?”
I blinked. “What… do you mean?”
She hunched over her ice cream, busying herself with it for a second before she mumbled, “I don’t really know how these things work. I’m still, uh—new to it all. But I mean, you know, you and Britt are connected and have been for all this time, and… and Haley and Ellen, everybody…”
I let out a breath, sinking back on the bench, and I slipped a hand up her back. “Sweetheart, I’m not getting you cut off from your whole support network just if we stopped doing this. We’re friends first, okay?”
She gave me the sweetest, most brilliant smile, looking so perfect in the low light in the park right now, the breeze tousling her hair, it made my head spin just looking at her like this. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Pinky promise.” I held out my hand, pinky finger out, and she stifled a giggle, linking hers with mine.
“Oh my god, I’ve always wanted to do this. Pinky promise,” she laughed, and we shook on it.
“You can relax,” I said, softly. “You’re safe, okay? I just want you to have a good time, feel safe and supported.”
She beamed. “I’m having an amazing time. And it just feels a little too good to be true… I mean, tonight’s been really fun. And we’ll definitely go up Willis Tower sometime too.”
“And then get more ice cream after.”
“Now, that is a date idea.” She sat up straighter, taking a deep breath, and she gave me a sweet smile, batting her eyelashes a little. “Hey, Madeleine?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Jesus Christ. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to words like that coming from someone like her. I think I saw stars for a second, a little breathless—actually a little giddy with nerves, and I couldn’t form words, so I just nodded, my heart beating faster, and she ducked her head, stifling a shaky little laugh.
“I’m not the only one nervous right now, right?”
“You’re definitely not,” I said. “I mean, where’d you even get that from, swooping in with something so swoony and cool like that, when you’re out here saying how you’re so uncool…”
“I’ve been rehearsing it in my head the whole date,” she laughed, scratching the back of her head, and I slipped a hand to the side of her face, cradling her cheek. She softened into it, fluttering her eyes closed with a satisfied little murmur, and I leaned in with my heart pounding, resting my forehead on hers.
“You want to know a secret?” I whispered, and I felt her nod against me.
“I love a juicy secret…”
“Yeah, Britt’s definitely rubbing off on you. Ah… the secret’s that we’re all faking being cool, rehearsing everything in our heads for ages, hoping nobody notices when we embarrass ourselves trying something big.”
She paused. “Even you? ”
“Especially me.”
“Even Britt?”
“Well… no, not Britt. Britt hasn’t spent one second of her life thinking. Ah, forget it, we’re not talking about Britt right now.”
She laughed, a nervous little giggle, and she softened into me, her lips brushing mine, and I felt my pulse spike, my mind shooting off into the stratosphere at the touch.
We stayed there like that for a minute, soft and sweet, lingering on each other’s lips, before I got a little bolder and pushed in, kissing softly along her lower lip. She murmured contentedly against me, slipping her hand to the back of my head, playing in my hair, and—
She pulled away suddenly, sharply, with a gasp, eyes wide, and I jerked back with my heart in my mouth.
“Sorry—” She broke out in a fit of nervous laughter, and I relaxed with a whoosh when I saw her ice cream dripping on her thigh, and she wiped it off. “I’m so sorry. It was just so sudden and so cold—I about had a heart attack—”
“Well, if you need some help cleaning it up,” I said, before I could think it through, and she fumbled, going beet-red before she clasped a hand over her mouth.
“Madeleine—oh my god,” she laughed.
I was probably supposed to lay off, take it back—or at least, that was what the voice in the back of my head said—but hey, she didn’t seem to mind. I leaned against the back of the bench, licking the ice cream a little slower than I had been before, and I said, “It’s just an offer. Take it or leave it.”
“Uh—hm. Because you go around carrying a bunch of wet wipes, is what I assume you mean.”
“Maybe it’s just that I have something I can give you back at the apartment.”
She laughed, ducking her head. “A damp paper towel?”
I pretended to be looking at the flowers stirring in the breeze. “Maybe. Could be something else warm and wet.”
“This is sounding like incentive to get ice cream on you too.”
I paused, heat prickling in my face. I was not going to lose it the second she said no, you. Or maybe I was. Just the visceral mental image of Sapphire’s mouth on my thigh, looking… up at me…
Sapphire laughed. “Oh my god, you started this and now you’re getting embarrassed.”
“I—I’m not,” I said, looking away, a hand over my mouth trying to play it casual, and she laughed harder, pulling my hand away.
“Oh my god, you’re blushing and everything. You’re so cute. How can you dish it out but you can’t take it?”
“Ah… you know, we all have our things. Come in all shapes and sizes.”
And Sapphire, soft and sweet little angel, batted her eyelashes and dropped with no hesitation, “You can come however you like, Madeleine.”
Jesus fucking Christ. I was not forming a sentence again in my life, especially when she smiled, all innocent, and kept her gaze on me as she licked, once, slowly, up her ice cream.
Dammit. I was trying not to do something predatorial and creepy like picture her licking me , but—
“That’s… very generous of you, Miss Sapphire.”
“Oh, aren’t we formal now?”
“Perhaps so.”
She licked her lips, smiling wider. “Kiss me again, please.”
She was—forthcoming all of a sudden. I didn’t mind.