Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Spring Semester, Sophomore Year of High School
AS THE SECOND SEMESTER BEGAN at Westmore High, Gemma was finally feeling like she belonged here. Spending time with Darbie, the soccer team, and Caitlin had changed everything. She was still uncertain about Caitlin’s role in her life, but she was grateful for the friendship, nonetheless.
The night before school started back up, Gemma found herself reflecting on her winter break.
The movie night at Troy’s house had been less than two weeks ago.
After Gemma’s not-so-subtle flirting—a direct confession of her feelings, actually—she had kept pushing, not deterred by Caitlin’s lack of response.
Feeling confident and curious, Gemma had slid even closer on the sofa, draping a blanket over their laps like a secret canopy, a world made just for the two of them beneath.
Gemma couldn’t pretend any longer that she didn’t have these feelings toward Caitlin, but if Caitlin didn’t feel the same way, then she needed to know now, before she jumped into the deep end headfirst.
As the days passed following that night, Caitlin had become increasingly more distant.
They had barely even texted. Gemma had reached out to wish Caitlin a Merry Christmas, only to receive a short “You too,” in return.
Then, when Caitlin’s sixteenth birthday arrived on New Year’s Eve, Gemma had sent a text wishing her a happy birthday.
That time, Caitlin only reacted with a heart on the message as a response.
It had Gemma on edge, concerned she had been too aggressive while trying to gauge Caitlin’s feelings toward her.
She didn’t know if Caitlin even liked girls.
Maybe Gemma had come on too strong and scared her away.
Gemma feared the worst. She hoped that once they were back in school, she would be able to pull Caitlin aside and have a proper conversation.
AS JANUARY CREPT BY, GEMMA’S tension only grew.
She hadn’t seen much of Caitlin outside of their Spanish classroom.
Her unease deepened every time they’d brush past each other in the hallway without uttering a word.
The sweet, handwritten notes from last semester seemed to have been left behind.
Every so often, Gemma’s eyes would drift toward Caitlin, only to catch her already looking in her direction.
Then Caitlin would whip her head away so fast that Gemma worried her neck might snap.
Doubt and guilt clawed at her. She wondered if she had made a mistake by confessing her feelings while Caitlin was dating Troy.
Maybe she should have protected the delicate bond they shared instead of blowing it up for a chance at something more.
One afternoon, Gemma decided that she had had enough. Attempting to thaw the ice between them, she dropped a note into Caitlin’s lap on her way back to her desk in Spanish class.
Forty-five minutes later, Gemma was on her way out the door when Caitlin slipped a small piece of paper into her hand before vanishing out of the building.
Mi portera, I can’t believe how cold it’s been, but the icicles are beautiful. Maybe my fingers will freeze before I’m able to do all this homework. – C
Their conversations started simple—asking each other about their holidays and sports practices before escalating into complaints about their teachers and the increased workload that the second half of the year had shown.
Neither of them brought up the movie night at Troy’s house, nor did they attempt to make any plans to hang out.
They didn’t even speak in person. The only indication that Caitlin even knew Gemma came in the form of folded notes, slipping into her lap or waiting at the bottom of her locker.
From time to time, Gemma tested the boundaries and lightly flirted with Caitlin, which would often earn her a playful comment in response, making Gemma curious about what exactly was going through Caitlin’s mind.
As the cold weeks continued, that dreary first month felt more like an entire year. The soccer season was almost at an end. The team had a few more games left before the playoffs, but they had been given this weekend off.
Gemma had been about to walk home with Darbie, stopping by her locker first to drop off some unneeded textbooks. Her backpack was already heavy enough.
When she opened the blue metal door, Gemma found a square piece of lined paper resting awkwardly atop her soccer cleats.
Wanna come over and watch a movie tonight? Text me when you get this. – C
Gemma was taken aback. They hadn’t hung out since that fateful night at Troy’s house over a month ago, and now, Caitlin was inviting her over?
No other details were given to indicate whether this would be another group activity, but it really didn’t matter.
Gemma missed Caitlin and would have gone either way.
This time, Gemma vowed to keep her distance.
There would be no lingering glances, no touches that could be mistaken for an advance.
If this was her chance to fix her friendship with Caitlin, she wasn’t going to mess it up.
Losing Caitlin completely would hurt far more than this silence.
Gemma slid the combination lock back through the handle of her locker, clicked it shut, and pulled out her cell phone to text Caitlin.
“Someone’s smitten.”
Gemma looked up to find Darbie watching her with a coy smile. “I am not.”
“Oh, come on. Who is it?”
“No one.”
“Yeah, right.” Darbie looped her arm through Gemma’s and dropped the subject with a knowing smirk as they walked through the double doors of the school into the parking lot.
Later that night, Gemma arrived at Caitlin’s. She stood nervously on the porch, waiting for Caitlin to welcome her inside.
When Caitlin opened the door, a genuine smile greeted Gemma, causing the butterflies in her stomach to take flight. She tried to reason with them, tried to convince them—and herself—that she and Caitlin were just friends.
“Hey.” Caitlin grinned, the first word she had spoken to Gemma in over a month.
“Hey back.” Gemma kept her eyes locked on Caitlin’s, vigilant for clues about this invitation. “I brought some treats.” She held up the plastic shopping bag from their local convenience store.
She didn’t know what kinds of snacks Caitlin liked, but Gemma hadn’t wanted to show up empty-handed. So, she had just gotten a variety of treats—buttered popcorn, Peanut Butter M&M’s, Crispy M&M’s, Reese’s Pieces, and Sour Patch Kids. She hoped Caitlin would at least like one of her choices.
Gemma followed Caitlin through the living room, noticing that there was no sign of Troy or any of the cheerleaders.
“Am I early?”
“Oh, no, it’s just us tonight.” Caitlin moved throughout the kitchen as if the past two months hadn’t happened, as if it had been just yesterday that they had danced in the basement together, giggling and wrestling. “I’ll put the popcorn in the microwave for us before we head downstairs.”
Gemma hadn’t known what to expect tonight, but she certainly never imagined they’d end up spending it alone.
Questions flew through her mind on tempo with the popping kernels, each one louder than the last. Maybe she wouldn’t get all of the answers tonight, but if she had to pick only one, Gemma knew which to ask first.
“Troy isn’t coming?”
“No, he’s hanging out at Alex’s tonight.” Caitlin avoided eye contact with Gemma as she poured the fresh popcorn into a white ceramic bowl.
Gemma nodded, her nerves tangling inside of her like a ball of yarn. She reminded herself of tonight’s mission.
Focus on fixing the friendship.
Collecting their snacks and drinks, Caitlin led Gemma into the basement.
The memory of Caitlin straddling her surged to the surface the moment that Gemma stepped down into the room again. She hadn’t been back here since that day. It had only been months, but it felt like a different lifetime.
“What kind of movie do you wanna watch?” Caitlin asked, placing everything on the coffee table, which had returned to its proper position in front of the couch, now that there were no longer dance mats on the floor.
Gemma sank into the far-right corner of the sofa, the cool leather against her skin like a balm. It helped to soothe the heat simmering throughout her body as each new piece of information she gathered stoked the fire inside her.
“I don’t care. You pick this time.”
Crap. Did Gemma just accidentally insinuate that there would be a next time?
Panic began to creep through her veins at her mistake until Caitlin flashed a copy of Miss Congeniality.
“I love that movie,” Gemma rushed, confirming Caitlin’s choice and relaxing when Caitlin appeared to be unfazed by her comment.
“Me too, such a classic.”
Caitlin placed the disc in its slot and hit play before moving to sit on the far-left side of the couch, as far away from Gemma as possible. Well, that answered one of Gemma’s questions—Caitlin wanted physical distance between them. Noted.
Gemma directed her attention toward the screen, where a young Gracie Hart was punching a boy on the playground. God, she was obsessed with Sandra Bullock movies. She was the reason that Gemma wanted to take acting classes after high school.
“I wanna be her when I grow up.” Caitlin sighed, apparently reading Gemma’s thoughts. “I wanna star in all the best films. I mean, I’ll probably go to college first for a theater arts degree, but then I wanna become the biggest actress of our generation.”
Gemma couldn’t take her eyes off Caitlin, lost in the future of her dreams. There was something magical about the way her face had lit up, hope twinkling in her clear blue eyes and excitement curling the edges of her smile.
Gemma had never met anyone so endearing…
or so beautiful. In that moment, she believed it.
She believed that Caitlin would one day leave New Hope and turn her dreams into reality.
“Do you know what you wanna do? After school, I mean.” Caitlin turned to ask, and Gemma couldn’t help but chuckle. “What’s so funny?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh, it’s just…” Gemma paused. “Well, I also want to be an actress and go to college for theater arts.”
Caitlin smiled, not seeming surprised as the two stared into each other’s eyes. The opening credits faded, breaking them out of their trance.
Not five minutes later, Caitlin spoke again. “Want some popcorn?”
Gemma was reaching for the bowl in Caitlin’s outstretched hand when she unexpectedly inhaled an intoxicating floral aroma coming from Caitlin.
For a moment, it stole her breath, a wave of longing rising so strongly that she had to bite back a groan.
Gemma needed to pull herself together. She retreated to her corner, placing her handful of popcorn onto the napkin in her lap.
Sandra Bullock. The beauty pageant. Do not think about the beautiful redhead beside you, smelling like a freaking meadow.
Gemma finished the buttery treat in her lap, deciding not to go back for more.
The bowl was sitting on the couch between Caitlin’s legs, and that seemed way too risky.
Instead, she reached for the bag of Peanut Butter M&Ms on the coffee table and tried to keep her eyes concentrated on the screen in front of her.
Gemma jolted, feeling a brush of skin against her own.
Her gaze snapped up to find Caitlin leaning toward the coffee table as well, as if they had been drawn by the same unspoken impulse.
Cailtin’s cheeks flushed, but Gemma didn’t dare try to guess at their meaning.
Somewhere past the halfway mark of the movie, Gemma realized that Caitlin had shifted closer.
So close, in fact, that there was barely an inch of space left between their thighs.
The world around Gemma seemed to freeze, the sound of the movie fading until all that remained was the beat of her own heart and the girl sitting beside her.
On the screen, Sandra Bullock and the other beauty pageant contestants were walking across the stage in bikinis.
Usually, this scene would have had Gemma’s full attention, but even Sandra Bullock didn’t stand a chance as she felt Caitlin angle her body against hers and rest her head on Gemma’s shoulder.
Gemma held her breath, afraid that even the slightest flinch would cause Caitlin to change her position.
Having Caitlin so close felt effortless, maybe even inevitable.
It was as if her shoulder had been waiting for years to hold the weight of Caitlin’s head—to give her a place to rest. In that moment, Gemma knew there would be no coming back from this.
She was utterly, hopelessly lost in this girl.
After that night, their friendship returned to the way it had been before Christmas break. Pretending like the night at Troy’s house had never happened, Caitlin and Gemma fell into a new routine.
During the school week, they would swap between their houses for homework sessions that always seemed to devolve into fits of giggles. On the weekends, the two would take bike rides to the park together, weather permitting, or sprawl across a couch for another rom-com marathon.
Gemma’s days dissolved into a montage of laughter, of late-night whispers, and the kind of moments that feel infinite at the age of fifteen.