11. spin the bottle

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CHAPTER ELEVENSPIN THE BOTTLE

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CHAPTER ELEVEN
SPIN THE BOTTLE










"Have a nice weekend," Miss Stacy smiled at us. The brunette packed her things and soon left the class with a warm aura surrounding her.

I felt my heart flutter: for me, weekends meant warm tea and poetry books, spending time with the people i loved. Weekends meant floating on flower petals and braiding daisies into my hair.

Weekends meant nuzzling into Anne's arms and listening to her heartbeat. Weekends meant tracing her dimples and watching her flush. Weekends were sacred for us. Ever since our courtship almost a month ago, I was dizzy. Drunk on her. The way she spoke and the way her eyes lit up. I wanted to memorise every freckle on her skin.

I wanted to show the world I was in love with her. I felt like myself around her, like I could do anything and she would appreciate it. Anne cupped my soul in her hands, and I'd let her have it forever.

But my stomach bubbled with anxiety whenever my mother asked me if I was seeing a boy. The eyebrow raise when I'd stutter and stumble around my words. It tore me apart to hide this. Was it so wrong? It felt like I was doing something wrong. Even when Anne laughed and it was like church bells and my heart lit up, it felt like i was sinning. Was I? Who was I? Two girls- two girls- How was it possible?

Would my father have approved?

Would he have glistened and glowed at my happiness? Would he would he would he would he would he would —

"Violet!" Diana interrupted my thoughts with a soft smile. "We're playing spin the bottle. Come join us."

I felt some hesitation: was Anne playing? I didn't want to kiss anyone but her. I hope she didn't want to kiss anyone but me. "Okay," I said softly, and Diana's grin grew larger.

We sat in a circle and everyone was waiting in anticipation, eager for some action. I didn't want to be here. At all. I felt so watched, so uncomfortable and my skin curled at the thought of playing.

"So Who's going first? Isn't this a completely romantical game!" Anne asked, enthusiastically, with a large smile. I felt my lungs crush. I couldn't breathe I couldn't breathe I couldn't breathe I couldn't —

"You?" Moody smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"I mean- sure! I would love to!" Anne flushed, a little bit, and spun the bottle. I couldn't watch this. I looked at Diana - it was a reflex - and she was serene and calm and I felt nauseous.

It landed on Diana.

"Disgusting," Billy spat out, "Two girls can't kiss each other. Spin it again, orphan."

The room was silent.

"Guys, I have to go, mother's expecting me, actually. I'll see you all on Monday?" I quickly rambled on as they waved goodbye. Anne narrowed her eyes at me, "I'll come with."

I nodded and she followed me outside.

"Are you okay?" She questioned, tucking a stray strand of my hair behind my ear, "I'm here to listen, if you want me to."

"Aren't you so tired of pretending?" I looked into her blue eyes as her smile faltered.

"It does get overwhelming but- I love being with you, Violet. It's all worth it for you. I know it must be hard but we have each other, right? And we'll always have each other and you'll always have me, regardless of our status and—"

"Anne," I whispered.

"What?" She spoke, "Did I say something wrong? If so I am terribly sorry I just speak without thinking and I just can't and I don't want to hurt you ever you're the best person in my life right now—"

"Anne," I smiled. She was adorable. "I'm okay. You're okay. We're okay. I just– I keep wondering if this is right. Two girls, together. It goes against everything I've ever learned."

Anne looked around, and until she was sure we were alone, she cupped my cheeks, and kissed me. God, her lips were so soft and I felt like I was falling, spinning, anything and she was there and she was real and I was in love.

"How does this feel?" Her voice was hoarse, eyes still boring into mine. "How does it feel, Violet?"

"Like my soul burst into flames," I replied. But I knew that something else was tugging at my brain and I couldn't process anything and—

"How can something so wonderful be antagonised?" Anne reasoned, "You feel it, I feel it, and that's okay."

"Okay," I felt a tear slide down my cheek.

"Okay," Anne whispered, "Cmon, let's get you home."

But my mind was still spinning. What would my father think what would my father think what would my father think — what would he think? If he was alive and breathing and accidentally caught me with Anne? Would he have looked at me in disapproval? Would he have cried? Would he have cursed at me and thrown me out of our home? Would he would he would he —

"Vi," Anne held my hand and squeezed it, "Are you okay?"

"I can't breathe," I choked out, "I need— I need–"

"What do you need?" Anne looked concerned.

You, I wanted to say. I really did, reader. But I just couldn't live with myself. Not like this. Not with her.

"Anne," I felt the tears spill down my cheeks and I removed my hand from hers, "I don't think I can do this. I'm so sorry. You have been nothing but good, wonderful, and splendid to me. But if I love someone, I don't want to be silenced. I don't want the shame. I don't want the guilt. Because Anne, the guilt is plaguing me. I don't know why, but it's swallowing me whole and I love being with you, but no one is worth this feeling. No one. I feel trapped, Anne. And I can't anymore. I just can't."

"I understand," Anne looked me in the eye, and I noticed that her cheeks were stained with tears, "But I'll wait for you, if the guilt ever subsides. Don't let this society dictate who you are, and who you can be with. You are the only one who can do that. If you don't want to be with me, that's okay. I accept that- I just - I just really hope we can be friends and I really really hope that we don't lose each other because that's just the last thing that I'd want and–"

"Anne," Despite myself, I smiled. "Thank you for being the first person I devoted myself to. You have all my firsts. Remember that. We can always go to each other when we're lost, okay?"

Anne was lost in the moment, I could tell. She held so much of me, still, and it would be hard to let go.

But my mind was not in overdrive anymore. I could feel my thoughts reverberate and process and I was real.

I was okay.

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