Turn of the Tide | ONC 2023

[11] Breakaway

    Sally showered every morning the boiler would cooperate with her, yet no bleary-eyed bathing session delivered as much satisfaction as this one. Making full use of the rubbing and scrubbing tools hanging from the rail, she looked on in horror at the thick streams of water the grey of old dead leaves. As the soft shine of her skin resurfaced through the dirt and the pearl tones of her nails glimmered against the pristine white shower curtain, however, her shock turned to delight. The water stung less with every pass over the small cuts on her hands, and soon the shower ran clearly enough to rid the tub of the ashy ring she had sprayed along its walls. She stepped out of the shower and sealed her revival with a breath of the lingering steam.

    "On a scale of 1 to 'Very'," Flick's voice asked through the door, its sudden arrival knocking Sally off-balance. "How naked are you right now? Can I come in?"

    "No! Wait a second!" Catching herself on the washbasin, Sally reached for the red towel Flick had used earlier. "You took my clothes, remember?"

    The door rattled in its frame, and Flick's voice slid down to near the floor. "So, extremely naked, then? Sounds like a party I can vibe with," she said, clicking her tongue at the end of her speech. A moment of silence followed, then the door shook again. "I mean, I could get naked too, if that'd help."

    "You're fine, just wait!" Somehow, after spending more than a few moments fantasising about sharing a shower with the girl, Sally pleaded for Flick to keep her clothes on. She folded the towel around herself and tried in vain to still her quaking hands. "Alright, you can come in now."

    "Sir, yes, ma'am!" The door flew open and closed in a second, with Flick gliding through in the brief interval. Grinning at Sally from the entrance, she clutched a parcel of clothes against her chest. "Thought I'd nab you a quick fix for your extreme nakedness while you were busy getting steamy. Need a hand drying off?"

    Before Sally could answer, Flick tossed the bundle into her arms and nestled in behind her, taking the towel in her grasp. At the top of the pile was a royal blue V-neck jumper, designed to fit over the fresh white button-down shirt folded beneath it. Tucked between the shirt's folds, a white wireless bra and pink underwear shimmered in the light. Straight black trousers and equally dark slip-on shoes held the pile up with their calm ease. "Are these all yours?" Sally asked, holding up the shirt by its collar.

    Flick ran the towel along Sally's back, and the feel of the girl's breath against her skin dulled Sally's hearing almost beyond recovery. "Believe it or not, I don't always wear flannel and ripped jeans," she said, laughing as she moved onto drying Sally's hips. "I've never worn those, though. They're more your style anyway. You're going to look adorable while huddled in your blanket powering through The Tempest."

    Sally shuddered, though whether it was the book's name or the brush of Flick's fingertips against her waist was unclear. "How'd you know what I'm reading for uni?"

    "I haven't just been staring at your cute butt all this time, Sal." Rising from her kneeling position, Flick leaned past Sally's side and shot her a fiendish smile. "As adorable as you are, I can check you out and listen to you at the same time. How do you think I knew which window to throw rocks at?"

    Shivers running along her skin, Sally hid her chest beneath the bundle of borrowed clothing. Flick floated by her side, the fall of her side-plait framing the bold yet delicate lines of her face. Smudged eyeliner faded over her cheek's curves, and Sally wondered if that had been what the girl was wiping off before she arrived. She wanted to be the one to finish clearing the streaks away now, in any case. "You really care," she said, fighting the urge to take Flick's hair in her hand.