Girls Like Girls

Chapter 6

  I didn't see Arden at school so I decided to drive over to her house and give it to her there. I don't really want to disturb her so I'll make it quick. Pulling up outside that same towering white house, my tummy is doing backflips. Why am I nervous? 

Moments after ringing the doorbell, the door opens just slightly. Half a small face pokes out, about forty five inches from the floor. Grubby fingers hold the door's edge. The face has rosy cheeks and green eyes, voluminous red curls tumbling from her head.
"Password," she tries in a stern guard-like voice.
I chuckle and stoop down, "I don't know the password."
She opens the door, revealing her full body. She can't be older than five. The girl beams at me, "Correct! That's the password! You passed the test!"
I hear thudding footsteps and a tall girl appears in the doorway, about eighteen. She swoops up the girl crossly, "Clementine! We don't open the door to strangers!"
Clementine crosses her arms, screws up her face and giggles, "No one's stranger than you!"
To stop myself from giggling too, I purse my lips. Clementine is funny, but the older girl looks quite ordinary. Blue skinny jeans, big glasses, a peach tank top and brown hair and hazel eyes. She sets Clementine down, her expression softening, "I'm Willow. Can I help you?"

I nod, "Yeah, I'm looking for Arden?"
Willow pushes up her glasses from the side and nods, "Come in."
She isn't quite rude, but something about her seems quite rigid. Almost as if she's a complete goody-two-shoes, but hey, what do I know.
"Thank you," I step inside, my fingers subconsciously running over the hem of the jacket in my hands. The entry room is huge, a chandelier in its centre. It has a high ceiling and a white marble staircase leads up to the top floor in an elegant curve. my army boots feel out of place on the chic wooden floors. Willow locks the door behind me and leads me to a corridor.
"Last door on your left," with a gentle smile she turns on her heel and walks the other way to catch Clementine, who is sliding down the banisters now.
I follow her instructions and walk down the long corridor, the faint sound of Baroque music growing louder with every step. At the end of the corridor, I turn left to an open door. Beyond it lay a studio, mirrors covering the walls with a rail at hip height all along the mirrors.
Right in the middle, Arden stood on tiptoe in her ballet pointes and tutu, but her hair was loose and wavy as ever. Her blonde curls cascaded down her shoulders and moved gently as she raised her arms in dance. She didn't seem to notice my presence. I couldn't help myself, I stood there leaning against the doorframe looking at her dancing. She was the walking, talking depiction of elegance and beauty.
When I returned to my senses, I knocked on the open door. Arden turned around, startled. When she saw it was me, a smile tugged at her lips and she walks over to me.
"Hey I! What are you doing here?" She asked.
"You forgot this at my house this morning," I held the jacket out to her.
"Thank you, I was wondering where that went," she took it in her hands and her smile broadened.
"I'm over the line here, but I was wondering if you're okay?" I chewed the inside of my cheek, "I heard some... noise when I dropped you off here."
Arden looked away and swallowed hard, nervously tugging at a loose thread on the jacket. After a moment she looked back, "Yeah, that was just my mom. It's okay though, she's at work right now."
I nodded and attempted to change the subject, "I didn't know you did ballet?"
"I don't really tell people, that's more my mom's thing," she chuckled, but I could see that there was something more to it. I let it alone.
She composed herself, "Just let me change out this ridiculous thing and we can hang out," she said. "Have you met my sisters?"
"Ohh so that's who they were. Yeah, I did. Clementine seems fun," I smiled.
"Yeah she's the life of the party. I'll be right back," and with that she exited through the door I had entered through.
While I waited, the music was still playing. I glanced around at my reflection, made infinite by the parallel mirrors. Curiously, I pointed my toes as best I could with shoes on. My foot circled the other until my leg was stretched out behind my body. I lifted an arm with my fingers gently parted, doing a slightly clumsy but adequate pirouette in time to the music.
When I turned to the door, I saw Arden there and stumbled. I felt blood rushing to my cheeks in embarrassment. "Sorry I was just uh-" I rubbed the back of my neck, "Just- uh-"
She giggled and walked toward me in more casual clothes. "You actually did well, you just need a little more technique." The shorter girl took my hand in hers and twirled me around, "Perfect." Then she lifted my arm and twirled herself.
My heart skipped six beats, she seemed to sense that I was still speechless from being caught.
"Want to hang out a bit?"
I hesitated, "Sure."

***

Laying stretched out on her bed before me, head propped up on one hand, Arden smiled at me, "You haven't said a word for ten minutes. What's going on in that head of yours?"

You invited me to hang out after waking up in my bed yesterday and you're so chill and, and what's going on? You never paid any attention to me before what the?

I clutch my left knee to my chest, sinking deeper into the desk chair a healthy distance away from Arden, "Oh um, just thinking about supper."

She giggles a little and straightens up, sitting now. She lays back against the fluffy white pillow behind her. Fluffy and white. Everything in her perfect room is perfect and fluffy and white. The cupboard and bed frame is made from dark, aged pine and the sheets and the walls and the desk are white - much like everything else. There are waterfall fairy lights spun across the ceiling like a magical pergola, polaroids are clipped to a piece of twine hanging above her boudoir and there's a lightbox hanging above her desk saying 'FIGHT LIKE A GIRL' in big, bold, aesthetic letters - aesthetic like everything else. Her room is where aesthetic tumblr blogs come to find inspiration.

"Kota?" She's smiling at me, amused. And pretty, so, so pretty-

"I Grace?"

"Oh sorry, what were you saying?" I finally snap out of it.

"I was just thinking, I forgot to thank you earlier. I don't really remember much from Monday night - the drinking, yes, the screaming, yes - but not much else. But, thank you. I remember that you helped me out, it means a lot."

She looks so vulnerable having acknowledged what happened, waiting for me to reply.

"Oh, that. Yeah um, don't worry about it. It was the decent thing to do; I'm sure anyone else would have too," I answer, a little embarrassed. I realise the fibres of the fluffy pillow I'm fiddling with are fraying, so I quickly smooth them down and put it aside.

"But 'anyone else' didn't. You did."

She was just about to say something else when we hear a car stopping in front of the house. All of a sudden Arden is up looking out the window, and when she looks back at me her face is devoid of all colour. "You need to go."

In the split second it takes the words to reach my ears, she opens the window looking out on the house next door and reaches for my arm. I get up and move over to her, still a little bewildered, "Out the window?"

She nods, taking my arm and helping me over the ledge, "Yes, sorry, um, no time to explain. There's a maintenance ladder at the back, please don't let anyone see you." She pauses, I stop moving, and she squeezes my arm, "I'm really sorry, I didn't want this to happen. I can't explain-" She stretches and looks out the window facing the house, "But you really need to go."

The front door's lock clicks loudly and keys are dropped into the porcelain bric-a-brac dish in the entryway. A woman's voice calls up the stairs, "Girls, is your father home? Has he started supper?" Under her breath she mutters, "Good for no-" Louder now, "Clementine, sweetheart! I didn't see you there. Is your sister upstairs?"

"Yes."

The voice turns hard and stony, "Is she alone?"

"Yes."

Arden lets go of a deep breath, "God bless toddlers," gives me a quick hug and I'm already halfway down that ladder when her door swings open.

"Darling, you look a mess! And you're supposed to be practising," the woman's voice remarks.

Her window slams shut.