Before
Em
Footsteps sounded almost immediately on the other side of the door.
It opened, and Shae stood in front of her.
Em’s thoughts raced; she didn’t remember Lennon saying more people would be staying over.
A wave of unexpected nerves washed over her.
Shae wasn’t in her uniform; instead, she had on a loose pair of jeans and a white hoodie, her dark hair swooping loosely around her face.
Em wasn’t used to seeing her outside of her plaid skirt and blazer, dressed so casually.
“Hey. Ya here for Lennon?” Shae asked.
“Hi. Umm, yeah. I’m supposed to be sleeping over.” Em shifted her hips to show her bag on her shoulder. “You staying over too?” Em guessed.
“Something like that,” Shae stepped back, pulling the door open wider. “Come in.”
The house smelled faintly of vanilla and something savory, like garlic and marinara. Warmth wrapped around Em as soon as she crossed the threshold, the elegance of the space immediately apparent—polished hardwood floors, high ceilings, and impressionistic paintings lining the staircase.
The two stood across from each other in the entryway. Em rocked back on her heels, sucking her lips into her mouth.
Shae’s hands moved to her pockets, raking her eyes down Em’s outfit. “You come straight from school?”
Em glanced down, nervously straightening her skirt. “Theater practice,” she said, noticing Shae’s sock feet. She automatically toed off her shoes, holding them loosely at her knee.
“You can just leave those there,” Shae said, nodding toward a row of neatly arranged shoes near the door. Lennon was nowhere to be seen, nor was anyone else.
Em added hers to the lineup, then turned, propping her hands on her hips, taking a better look at the place. “This place is gorgeous!”
Shae chuckled. “Make sure you repeat that when June’s in the room.”
Em tilted her head questioningly, about to speak when Lennon’s voice rang out from upstairs.
“Em! You made it!”
Footsteps thundered down the staircase, and Lennon appeared, grinning widely, pulling Em into a hug.
“How was practice?”
“Let’s just say I’m glad it’s the weekend.” Em laughed.
“Ugh, same,” Lennon declared. “Come on, let’s go to my room.”
Shae’s posture shifted subtly, and she headed in the opposite direction.
“Aren’t you coming?” Em asked.
“Me?” Shae asked. “I’m watching a movie so… I’ll just be in—”
“Wait—” Em gestured at the two of them. “Are you… sisters?”
Lennon snorted. “Twins.”
Em’s mouth fell open. She’d spent two weeks talking with both of them and never had she recognized the resemblance. She didn’t believe she’d ever spent time with Shae when Lennon was around, but Shae had absolutely seen her with Lennon.
Lennon tracked her attention to Shae. “You two know each other?”
Em narrowed her eyes at Shae. “You’re her sister? Her twin?”
“I am,” she said, resolutely.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
Shae shrugged. “You never asked.”
Em stood there for a moment, incredulous. Shae’s face was dancing with amusement. Which was charming, she had to admit.
“Guess it didn’t seem relevant.”
Em stared at her, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.” She snorted.
Lennon’s eyes ping-ponged between them, a clear attempt to read the situation. Her eyebrows raised, undoubtedly entertained. “This feels like a big moment.”
Em adjusted her posture immediately, “I’m just… surprised,” she said.
Dinner passed easily. Lennon’s parents were warm and welcoming, asking Em questions about California, theater, and her classes. The conversation flowed naturally, and the table was filled with laughter and an easy kind of comfort that Em tried to settle into.
Em did her best to act natural, but she was aware of everything: how she held her fork, where she put her hands, how often she glanced in Shae’s direction.
With Shae sitting across from her at the table, it was impossible not to be.
She tried not to look at her too much or too little.
She was acutely aware of her presence, the way she met Em’s eyes when someone made a joke, the way she listened more than she spoke. It all drew Em in.
Only yesterday, Shae sat with Em on the bleachers, watching the women’s track team run sprints.
Em wasn’t supposed to be there—she was supposed to be at home, but her parents had confused who was meant to pick her up.
Shae had just finished cooling down from practice when she wandered over, dropping down on the bench beside Em.
Within five minutes, Em was laughing so hard her cheeks ached.
Shae knew, without asking a hundred questions. She knew.
She stayed with Em until her parents arrived.
Then Em heard her as she walked toward her parents' car, “Yeah, Mom. You can come get me now—I’m ready.” Em turned, walking backwards, and saw Shae lower her phone from her ear and plop back down on the bleachers.
Nobody had ever done that for her before, and it mattered.
“I’ll do the dishes,” Shae offered, popping up out of her chair as they all finished.
She collected their plates from the table, her hand brushing Em’s as she took hers—leaving Em’s hand tingling in its wake.
Em tucked her hand under the table, brushing her fingers over the spot like tracing the evidence of a burn.
“Hey Em, I was gonna run up and shower quick,” Lennon said. “Unless you wanna go first?”
Em shook her head. “No, I’m okay right now, you can go ahead.”
Lennon headed up, leaving Em alone in the kitchen with Shae.
Suddenly, the room felt a lot smaller. At school, their interactions were pretty short.
Em spent most of her time watching her from afar and only let Shae approach her.
Shae was alive, and Em always left their conversations wanting more.
Only now understanding what it means to be a moth discovering flame for the first time.
Not destructive, but in a way that burns from the inside out and illuminates everything beautiful in the darkness.
Shae finished the dishes, dried her hands on the towel by the sink, and turned to face Em, leaning back against the counter.
“Wanna go outside?”
Em wasn’t sure why that made her nervous, but it did. She glanced at Shae, her smile responding.
Outside, the garden glowed with soft lights, strung overhead. Ivy traced the rust-colored brick in wandering lines. Flower beds wrapped the perimeter, stunning and immaculately tended. Larger buildings towered around them, cradling the courtyard in a pocket of warmth and shadow.
Shae sank onto the couch, exhaling loudly.
“Take a seat,” she said, patting the spot next to her. “Lennon’s going to be a while, trust me.”
Em sat beside her, the faint scent of Shae’s shampoo lingering in the air between them.
“Your family is really nice,” Em said softly.
Shae shifted in her seat. “They have their moments. What’s your family like?”
There was a pause—comfortable, but weighted.
“You have any siblings?” Shae carefully probed.
Em shook her head, “Just me.”
“Just?” Shae asked. Then responded with, “Hmm.” Like she was letting it slide for now. “Well, why’d your family move to Boston?”
Em hesitated, pushing her sleeves down over her hands.
Something in Shae’s tone relaxed her, made her want to say more, to open up to her. It was unassuming—not like the Shae she knew at school. It made her chest tighten.
Em fixed her eyes on Shae.
The corners of Shae’s mouth lifted, and she leaned back against the sofa. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”
Em hesitated. “Where would I even begin?”
“You don’t like it here.”
“No, it’s not that. I do. I mean… mostly.”
Shae waited.
“I didn’t want to move here,” Em said. “No offense to Boston.”
Shae’s gaze stayed steady. “Yeah?”
“I think my parents think a new city and more money will fix things.” She huffed a fragile, humorless laugh. “Like problems evaporate if the houses get bigger.”
Em couldn’t believe she’d admitted that, but it was true. California wasn’t amazing, but that was where she’d spent the last five years of her life. Before that, it was Florida, and before that, New York, where her father was from, her mom went to college, and she was born.
She’d never much enjoyed LA. People weren’t as welcoming as they’d been here, but she’d found friends, and, as was to be expected, that wasn’t easy to leave, especially when her parents' marriage started to falter.
Shae tucked her feet up under her and leaned forward.
“They haven’t gotten along for a couple years,” Em continued. “Not screaming or anything. Just… existing separately. Different rooms. Different routines. It’s like living inside a long, quiet argument.”
Shae put her hand on Em’s, and Em paused, surprised by the gesture.
“I think they moved here to save their marriage,” Em continued. “But I don’t trust it. It feels like another attempt at pretending everything’s fine.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then Shae said, softly, “That sounds hard.”
“I just wish they'd talk more, even if it’s ugly. At least we’d feel more like a family again.” Em played with the hem of her skirt. “My Aunt lives here, though, my mom’s sister and her wife. I’ve gotten a chance to spend a bit more time with them. Which has been nice.”
“Her wife?” Shae’s voice pitched up an octave.
Em chuckled, “Yes, her wife.”
The door to the outside swung open, and Lennon stepped halfway outside. “Hey you, I finished up. I was thinking we could watch a movie in the den, what do ya say?”
Em studied Shae for a moment before speaking, reluctant to end what they’d started. “That sounds fun. I’m down.” She hesitated, then stood.
“Cool. Come on,” Lennon said, pushing the door open wider, and Em stepped inside.
Looking back once to wave bye. Shae lifted a hand in return.