Beauty & The Geek: a Sapphic mini-story

Inspired by and dedicated to faerierealm and her partner I It was the start of the new semester, but for Ellie it was no different to any other day. By lunchtime, she had survived a fire drill, a corridor full of shrieking girls, and an assembly speech about being kind to one another. Midway through it, Janice Pearson, sitting directly in front of her, had removed a pellet of chewing gum from her mouth and, turning around, flicked it straight at Ellie. A teacher nearby just happened to be looking the other way. Teachers seemed to have a talent for that. Yes, already a day like every other. And there was still the afternoon PE class to get through. The changing room contained its usual assault course of smells: bleach, damp towels and competing deodorants. Locker doors were opened and slammed shut too loudly. All around her, girls got changed while Ellie stood beside her locker, half-hidden behind the tangle of dark hair and a sweatshirt almost large enough to accommodate another Ellie, should one be required. "Aren't you getting changed too?" It was Lauren, a new girl in their class, who had yet to learn that people generally left Ellie alone. "I like to wait till everyone's gone. I get embarrassed." Lauren smiled, not unkindly. "Don't tell me you've got webbed feet." Ellie frowned. "No. Of course I haven't." Lauren's smile widened. "I was only joking. Do you take everything so literally?" "Yes." "Fair enough." Lauren pulled off her top and began wriggling out of her impossibly tight jeans. Ellie hastily examined a crack in the floor tiles. A moment later, she stole another glance. And that was when Janice appeared, along with two of her friends. They reminded Ellie of pilot fish, hitching a free ride with a shark. Janice sauntered over. She was the kind of girl who wore short skirts without tights even in the depths of winter, apparently immune to temperatures that would have finished off a polar bear. "You wanna steer clear of her," Janice said, addressing Lauren. "Oh? Why's that?" "Because she's mental. Should be in one of them special schools for weirdos." Lauren straightened. She was no longer smiling. "I'll pick who I talk to, thanks." "Yeah?" Janice's chin jutted forward. "Are you a lezzie too, then?" Lauren regarded her calmly. "I'll tell you what I am. South-East under-sixteen boxing champion. Three years running." Janice hesitated. "So I'd be careful with your insults if I were you." For a moment, Janice appeared to weigh up her options. Then she muttered something about keeping out of her way and headed for the door, her two companions following obediently in her wake. Ellie watched them go. It was possibly the most magnificent thing she had ever witnessed. After a moment, she turned to Lauren. "Are you really a boxing champion?" Lauren grinned. "Of course. Same as you've got webbed feet." "I told you, I don't—" Ellie stopped. Lauren was looking at her, eyebrows raised, waiting. "Oh," Ellie said. Then she laughed. It was a small, rather startled laugh. And she could hardly believe what she was hearing when Lauren said, quietly, "You're very pretty when you smile, Ellie. You should do it more often." She blushed, and carried those words with her for the rest of the day. II As the afternoon drew to a close and students began streaming homeward through the gates, Ellie took her usual seat on the bus. The place beside her remained empty, as it invariably did. She told herself she preferred it that way. Fewer elbows. The engine idled noisily, making the windows rattle in their frames. Through the glass, she watched Lauren approaching with Katie Lamb, a pretty, vivacious girl from their class. They were talking animatedly, and Katie was making Lauren laugh. Ellie felt a sudden and unpleasant little stab of something in her chest. Lauren climbed aboard, spotted her and smiled. "Hi, Ellie!" "Hi." But Lauren followed Katie to the back of the bus. So much for their promising new friendship, Ellie thought. It had lasted approximately three hours, which was possibly a personal record. At her stop, Ellie was surprised to find Lauren getting off behind her. "Mind if I walk with you?" Lauren asked. Ellie didn't answer the question. Instead she said, "I see that you and Katie Lamb have hit it off." She had wanted it to sound casual, but the words came out like an accusation. Lauren looked puzzled. "Yes, she was telling me about the netball trials." She paused, then grinned. "Hang on. Are you jealous?" "No!" Ellie replied, rather more loudly than she'd intended. "Course not." "Good. Because I was wondering if you'd like to come home with me. I live about halfway along The Avenue." Ellie blinked. The Avenue was where the big, expensive houses were, mostly screened off behind electric gates. Then she frowned. "So why did you get off here? Isn't there a bus stop nearer to you?" "Well, yes." Lauren wrinkled her nose. "There is, actually. But I got off because there was something I wanted to ask you. I've got a pony called Biscuit, who's adorable, and I wondered if you'd like to meet her." She hesitated. "Was that silly of me?" It took a moment for Ellie to process what Lauren was suggesting. "My mum won't be back till after six," she said at last. "So... yeah, thanks, that would be cool." "Perfect." They passed Ellie's modest terraced house and continued along a tree-lined road, dry leaves crackling beneath their shoes. Half a mile farther on, Lauren stopped in front of a pair of tall wooden gates and, fishing a fob from her bag, pressed its button. The gates slowly swung open, revealing an impressively large detached house. Ellie gawped. Her entire back yard would probably have fitted into the driveway, with room left over for the dustbins. Soon Lauren was leading the way around the side of the house and through the back garden, with a fenced-off paddock at the end. As they approached, a chestnut pony ambled over, apparently delighted to see them. "This is Biscuit," Lauren announced, opening the gate. "Biscuit, this is Ellie." Biscuit snorted. "She doesn't seem very impressed." "She's reserving judgement. But there are some apples in the stable block. Give her one of those and she'll be your friend for life." Biscuit's ears pricked up at the word apples , and she snorted again. Inside, the stables smelt of hay, old leather and something unmistakably equine. Ellie found it strangely comforting. Lauren cut an apple into pieces, and they returned to the paddock. "Does she bite?" Ellie asked as Lauren handed her a piece. "Only if you put your fingers in the wrong place. Hold your hand flat." Lauren gently took Ellie's wrist and turned her palm upwards. Their fingers touched. Biscuit accepted the apple with a wet, enthusiastic crunch. "See? She likes you," Lauren said with obvious pleasure. But Ellie was surprised to discover that she had been concentrating rather more on Lauren's hand than on the pony's huge teeth. Afterwards, they walked slowly across the paddock while Biscuit followed close behind, apparently convinced that further apples would materialise. "You're really fond of her, aren't you?" Ellie said. Lauren nodded. "When I was little, I used to tell her all my secrets." "Did she keep them?" "Oh yes. She's never told anyone." "That's probably because she can't talk." Lauren laughed. "I still tell her things sometimes. Especially when something's bothering me." They stood quietly for a while, watching Biscuit investigate a patch of grass with extraordinary concentration. Somewhere in the trees a blackbird was singing. "When I was small, I used to tell our cat everything when I was upset," Ellie said. "But he died." "Oh, Ellie. I'm sorry." "He was a good listener. He seemed to undersand." Lauren looked at her. "And who listens now?" Ellie shrugged, averting her gaze. How could she possibly begin to tell Lauren about the therapist she saw when everything got too much? Or the tourettes-like noises that she couldn't control, and the way people then stared or pretended she was invisible? It felt like a lot to reveal to someone she'd only just met. Instead she said, "There's nobody, really. So maybe I should start confiding in Biscuit too." "Maybe you should." They stood together for a little longer, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine. "Do you want to come round again sometime?" Lauren asked. "Yes," Ellie said, rather quickly. "Biscuit would like that." "How do you know?" "She told me." Ellie looked at her. Lauren's expression was perfectly serious. Then Ellie laughed. By the time she reached home, the fading afternoon sunlight had turned the windows of the terraced houses golden. Ellie discovered several strands of hay clinging to her sleeve. She carefully removed them, though for some reason she was rather reluctant to throw them away. Later that evening, while getting ready for bed, she stopped in front of the bathroom mirror. She pushed her unruly hair away from her face and studied her reflection. Lauren's words in the changing room came back to her. You look very pretty when you smile, Ellie. You should do it more often. She attempted a smile. The result resembled someone trying to be polite while suffering from trapped wind. Ellie let her face relax and tried again. No improvement. She couldn't understand what Lauren had seen. Perhaps she needed her eyes tested. In bed, Ellie lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. She thought about Biscuit and the extraordinary size of Lauren's house. But mostly she remembered Lauren's hand touching hers. And as she drifted towards sleep, a small smile crept across her face. This time, she hadn't needed to practise. III The following morning, Lauren awoke to the sound of rain spattering against her bedroom window. She silenced the chimes of her alarm and pulled back a corner of the curtain. The rain had the effect of darkening the front garden, and Lauren felt a twinge of disappointment. She had been toying with the idea of inviting Ellie over again to see Biscuit, but that was going to have to wait until better weather reappeared. She hoped it wouldn't be long. An hour or so later, she was joining the queue to board the school bus. Ellie got on two stops later. Their eyes met, and Ellie gave her a brief smile before sliding into her usual seat near the front. Lauren watched her settle by the window, her puffer jacket bunching around her shoulders. She was tempted to go and sit beside her, but something held her back. Maybe Ellie preferred being alone. Maybe it would seem too pushy. Maybe... At that point Lauren ran out of excuses. Then the bus swung sharply into the road, and the moment had passed. Two stops later, Katie Lamb joined her and began talking enthusiastically about the netball trials later that week. Katie, who captained the senior team, was sure she'd be selected. "Fingers crossed," Lauren said, though privately she wished people would stop assuming she was bound to succeed, in netball or anything else. She knew they meant it as a compliment, but somehow it only made the prospect of disappointing them worse. She glanced towards Ellie and caught a glimpse of her misty reflection in the window. For a few moments she wondered what Ellie was thinking. Then she arranged her mouth into a smile, and rejoined the conversation with Katie and the other girls at the back of the bus. * When Lauren entered the classroom, Ellie was already seated at a desk. The chair beside her was empty. This time Lauren made a beeline for it. Ellie looked up, surprised but evidently pleased, and moved her bag to make room. "Morning," Lauren said. "How's things?" "Fine. How's Biscuit?" "Missing you. Or it could be the apples she's pining for, it's hard to tell." Around them, chairs scraped and bags thumped onto desks. The room smelt faintly of damp hair and damp clothing. The teacher began writing equations on the board, and Ellie bent over her exercise book. She pushed up the sleeves of her hoodie, revealing a scattering of tiny freckles along her forearms, some scarcely darker than her skin. Lauren found herself wondering what they would feel like beneath her fingertips, like joining up the dots in a children's puzzle. Ellie frowned at a calculation, and the tip of her tongue appeared between her lips. Then she rubbed her chin. Lauren did her best not to look, but she was finding it extraordinarily difficult to concentrate on anything else. "Lauren?" She looked up. The teacher was watching her. "Can you tell us what x equals?" Lauren stared at the board. Several lines of algebra had appeared while her attention was elsewhere. "No, sorry Miss. I can't." A few students laughed. "Then perhaps you'd care to join us for the remainder of the lesson." Heat crept up Lauren's neck. She'd usually have known the answer. Ellie quietly nudged her exercise book towards her. The answer was six. "Thanks," Lauren whispered. "Bit late, though," Ellie murmured. Lauren suppressed a smile. Eventually the lesson ended, and Janice Pearson came swaggering along the aisle from the back of the classroom. Passing their desk, she made a couple of exaggerated kissing noises. Ellie's hand stopped halfway towards her bag. Lauren heard them too. She could have turned and challenged Janice, but that would only have given her the reaction she wanted. Besides, there was something inescapably ironic about being mocked for fancying a girl when, as it happened, she really did fancy her. What troubled Lauren rather more was the uncertainty of whether Ellie might ever feel the same way. She waited while Ellie gathered her books. "I need to get something from the library," she said. "Care to join me?" Ellie looked up, a little uncertainly, then smiled. They left the classroom together. Lauren was still thinking about those freckles. IV The kiss happened almost by accident. After several days of gusting rain, the sun had reappeared in a sky shaded with cornflower blue, giving Ellie the chance to see Biscuit once again. Spending time with Lauren held an attraction too, of course. "You keep going over the same bit," Lauren said as Ellie swept a brush along the ridge of Biscuit's spine. "She likes it," Ellie replied. The pony flicked an ear, which Ellie took to be agreement. The afternoon had turned muggy. Beyond the paddock, the trees lining the back garden began to stir as the wind picked up. Lauren came round to see her handiwork. She patted Biscuit's flank, standing close enough for Ellie to notice the shine of perspiration on her upper lip. Then a large drop of rain splashed onto Ellie's nose, quickly followed by several more. She blinked. "Oh, brilliant," Lauren muttered. It clearly wasn't brilliant, but Ellie knew better than to point that out. Suddenly the heavens opened, and by the time they'd guided Biscuit into her stall, both girls were drenched. They took refuge in the adjoining tack room, with the rain clattering on the roof overhead. Ellie gave her hair a shake, releasing a small spray of water. "Here, use this," Lauren said, handing her a towel that had an earthy, musty smell. Ellie began rubbing her hair, but stopped when she noticed Lauren watching her. "What?" "Nothing." Ellie resumed the towel rub. She wasn't convinced it had been nothing, but asking again would probably be irritating. When she lowered the towel, Lauren was still looking at her. "You've got a bit sticking up," Lauren said. "That's normal." "I know." "Your hair's sticking up too," Ellie said. Lauren touched the side of her head, trying to smooth it flat. "Any better? Or do I look ridiculous?" Ellie considered her. She didn't look ridiculous. She looked like Lauren, only wetter. "Honestly, you don't." Lauren lowered her hand. "Good." Neither of them spoke. Ellie was used to silences that meant she'd said something wrong. This one felt different. Lauren wasn't on the lookout for something else to do. She seemed content to stay where she was. A strand of Ellie's hair fell across her eyes. She tried to blow it away. "Here," Lauren said. She tucked it behind Ellie's ear, her fingers brushing Ellie's cheek. Ellie looked up. Lauren's hand lingered, then she began to draw it away. Ellie caught her fingers. She hadn't planned it. She only knew that she didn't want to lose the feel of Lauren's touch. Lauren looked at their joined hands, then back at Ellie, who hesitated, uncertain what to do next. Lauren gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She leaned forwards. Their lips met, a little clumsily at first, then less so. Ellie was conscious of the rain hammering overhead, the wet collar against her neck, the unfamiliar pressure of Lauren's lips. She couldn't quite separate one sensation from another. Then she closed her eyes. That helped. She kissed Lauren back. It lasted for seconds that seemed to stretch. When Lauren drew away, Ellie was still leaning towards her. For a moment neither spoke. Ellie realised she was gripping Lauren's fingers rather tightly and loosened her hold. "Sorry." "It's all right." Ellie looked at her. She wanted to kiss Lauren again. Lauren smiled. This time Ellie leaned forwards first. The kiss was firmer, slower. Their knees bumped as they moved even closer, and Ellie realised how much easier it felt once she stopped worrying if she was doing it right. When they drew apart, Lauren smiled once more. "That was nice," Ellie murmured. "Nice?" Ellie considered the word. It was accurate, but definitely insufficient. "Very nice." Yet she doubted there was any word that could really do justice to what she felt in that moment. Nor could she imagine what might happen when they left the stable, said goodbye, or saw each other at school. Usually, not knowing would have unsettled her. Strangely, for now, it didn't. Somewhere outside, water dripped steadily from the edge of the roof. The clatter of rain had stopped so gradually that Ellie hadn't noticed the quieter sounds taking its place. "Come on," Lauren said, reaching for Ellie's hand. "Let's go and see how Biscuit's doing." Ellie nodded, and they walked out together, squinting into the brighter light. THE END