Hiding Anna [rewritten]

Chapter Twenty: Reliving

*** This chapter has very explicit, triggering content concerning sexual assault/rape - read at your discretion. ***

The next month flew by and everything went back to normal.

Abi finally approached me about being gay and it went really well.

"Cassie?" She'd asked.

"Yeah?"

She'd looked around sheepishly, her hands fidgeting with her t-shirt. "I need to talk to you about something."

At the time I had guessed that that was what it was about so I decided to save her the pain of actually saying the words out loud and asked her myself.

"Is this about the lesbian thing?"

She'd looked so taken back that I thought maybe I should have let her tell me first but slowly after a few seconds of bafflement her features relaxed.

"You know?"

I rolled my eyes with a smile. "Abs, you're my sister. Of course I know!"

Her whole posture slackened. "And you're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad? It's not a big deal, you're still the same person."

I hated injustice and the general hatred of other human beings, and being gay didn't change her in my eyes even remotely. Just the same as Corey. It had been difficult to not feel any kind of hatred towards the whole subject after the incident with Corey. Many others might have resented homosexuality after that trauma. But for me after what happened all those years ago, the fight against prejudice was even more detrimental.

So now Abi happily and openly talks about female celebrities she finds pretty without the worry of us judging or suspecting. She told my mother the weekend after, and I was thankful that she too was indifferent about her child's sexuality, so now we all knew.

Things with George and I reverted back to how they were before the kiss. Twice a week, we'd have a tutoring sleepover as I was beginning to call it, and my mock papers for the resits were skyrocketing. And our friendship was developing further, and I was starting to realise that I shouldn't be afraid of it. Once I told myself this, I sunk a little deeper into his warm arms, had the courage to express myself even more honestly, laugh a lot louder.

We talked about so many things. Every day I was learning something new about him. As well as sitting together in maths, and being study partners in the library, we were texting everyday and also calling a lot. I'd never really had that friendship with anyone before. Even with the girls. Ruby would sometimes ironically call me for boy advice, and Corey also would ring occasionally for a chat. But I'd not previously felt like starting conversations about myself, whether that be trivial or profound.

With George it was different. Maybe because he actually asked me questions. My friends didn't really do that.

As I reflected more and more upon this, I came to the conclusion that this was either because I never answered sufficiently, and thus, asking about me was wasted time, or that they weren't truly interested.

My mother had told me when I was young that humans were intrinsically selfish. This was post my dad's suicide. Perhaps that's the way she viewed his death. I always hoped I would never be selfish, but I never consciously tried to be selfless. I didn't care whether people would be selfless for me, but when it came to George, his genuine, motiveless care that truly seemed to come from a place of goodness meant the world.

And my body was aware of this.

As much as I loved just sleeping with him, it was hard sometimes to be lying to close to him and not to be intimate with him. Thanks to his confession, I knew he wanted us to be more than friends, which meant that my physical desires were likely to be mutual. But I wasn't on the same emotional page.