Chapter 28 - Sleepover

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Rosie's POV:

"I've brought Vimto" The brunette spoke, holding up the purple bottle in front of me. My eyes widened, "You are a life saver, thank you so much". Wrapping my arms around her neck, I stood up on tiptoes due to the height difference. Normally there's only a couple of inches between us, but when she's wearing heels, it's a different story.

 I asked, "Where did you get this from? Me and Keira have looked everywhere for it". She laughed, "It's a secret, but let me know when you run out and i'll get you some more". I held on tight to her, not wanting to let go just yet. She sensed that and allowed my body to seek comfort in her arms for as long as I needed. 

When we pulled away, I raised an eyebrow, "Did you really drive all the way over here at 10pm just to drop of Vimto? What's the catch?". She shrugged her shoulders while taking off her shoes, "There is no catch. Maybe I just wanted to see you?". I chuckled softly, "Aw Georgie's gone soft". Rolling her eyes at my statement, she responded weakly, "Whatever. But seriously stop with the nicknames, especially that one". Crossing my arms, I grinned, "You know you like it". Even though she is too stubborn to admit it, I know I'm right. 

Pouring myself a glass of Vimto, she denied one with a frown on her face, "It is disgusting. English people really have no taste". I took a long drink from the purple liquid (diluted with water obviously because that stuff is strong), "That is so disrespectful to my English heritage and culture. Vimto is an elite drink. It's a shame Spanish people don't understand English delicacies". Sometimes I forget she's Spanish because she can speak English as fluently as me. I can't say the same for her language...

Knowing that Keira would soon finish the bottle, I took it with us when we settled upstairs - lying on my bed with my head resting against her shoulder. Lucy had shouted annoyingly to us prior, "Keep the door open!". Rolling my eyes at her being such a mother, I shut it just to annoy her. And it worked. Soon enough she shoved open my door dramatically and glared at us, "My house, my rules". I shot back, "How come you and Keira get to shut your door?". She raised an eyebrow, "Because we're adults". I smirked, "Well Georgia's an adult". She ignored me, picked up a few shoeboxes from the floor and pushed them against the door to stop it from closing, "And no sleepovers". My mum wandered out of sight and I snuggled closer into Georgia's body, resting my arm on her stomach. 

After unsuccessfully finding something to watch on Netflix, we sat in comfortable silence, soaking up the other one's presence. Throughout the short while I was told to stay indoors, Georgia had been to see me every single day. Lucy even invited her to our weekly movie night. Every saturday we sit down as a family and watch something together - whether that be a film or documentary or football match. I made sure to tell Georgia that she should feel privileged to be invited. No one is ever invited because my mums see it as a family bonding time away from our teammates. 

As for me and Lucy, well nothing's really changed after what I told her. And I'm extremely thankful for that. I was afraid she would see me differently or even treat me differently without meaning to. But I had no need to worry. Due to it being so long ago and no actual concrete evidence, Lucy was frustrated she couldn't do anything about it. Maybe if I had gone to the hospital, it would've been logged and that would've been the proof we needed that I was pregnant at such a young age. Instead of seeking help, I dealt with it by myself. Now looking back, it was extremely dangerous to not go to the hospital to be checked out. But I didn't care if I was ill or I had an infection or anything. Relief washed over me the moment I realised what had happened and I no longer carried Gary's baby. Since that moment, it's put me off wanting children in the future. My opinions might change, but not anytime soon.

Georgia's arm draped down the side of my body, slowly running her fingers over my skin's smooth surface. She noticed the goosebumps form, "Are you cold?". I shook my head, not wanting to vocalise that the goosebumps were my reaction to her touch, not the temperature. 

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