#(dis)connected

Aquaria has given up with school. Well, she gave up with school not long after she started school. But, still, officially now, all she’s doing is focusing on trying to get into the Fashion Institute of Technology, which has been her only dream since she tried on her first pair of her mom’s heels as a kid, and now she’s just trying to keep all her grades at a C so she can successfully scrape by high school and leave it all behind for good.  

Meanwhile, a friend of hers, Brianna, is a model pupil. Aquaria has sat behind her in both History and French since freshman year, watching the way she flicks her blonde hair over her shoulder, how her head tilts back when she’s laughing and her confidence when talking in class in comparison to Aquaria’s stumbling awkwardness. Not that it’s a big deal that she watches her. She’s just hard to miss, with her big personality and even bigger hair, and you know, she’s right there, what else is she supposed to look at?

Brianna is popular amongst the students, like Aquaria, but, drastically opposite to Aquaria, she’s also loved by all of her teachers, thanks to her general friendliness and attitude to study hard in all her subjects. Brianna has truly excelled in high school. As their four years come to a close, she’s on track to go to a great college and have a great future, whereas Aquaria can hardly wait to get out of this hellhole and finally make a name for herself in fashion.

But, leaving behind high school means leaving her friends, and, unfortunately, that includes leaving behind Brianna. And the back of her head. Which is nice. The big, curly hair that the blonde does when she has a bit more time is Aquaria’s favourite, by far. She remembers vividly the day that she did it for the first time.

It’s a Monday. Aquaria spent the weekend in isolation from the outside world, trying to put together some looks for her portfolio, which she has changed and altered a million times, at least. Just last night, she redrew and redesigned a whole outfit she was obsessed with the week before, meaning she was up until the early hours of the morning furiously scribbling, sketching and sewing until her fingers were red raw.

Now, she’s sitting in her assigned seat at the back of Madame Dupont’s class as it starts, her pen tapping on her desk and her eyelids starting to droop already. Concentrating on the boring lectures on the imperfect subjunctive is hard enough as it is, without the added bonus of just two hours sleep. Aquaria is so tired that she hasn’t noticed that Brianna isn’t already sitting in front of her until she walks in, five minutes late, shooting an apologetic smile to the teacher and the usual grin to Aquaria, and hurriedly making her way to seat, the second row from the back.

“Bonne matin, mademoiselle, et qu’est-ce que la raison que vous êtes si tard?” Madame Dupont demands before she has the chance to sit down, even though the lesson has barely begun.

“Je suis desolée, Madame,” Brianna mumbles, her flawless accent still clear as she sits down and starts to pull out her things.

Aquaria is shocked. Brianna has never been late to class before, especially not French. Normally, she has to drag Aquaria by the arm so they’re on time, or she’s already there by the time the other girl decides to finally trudge into the room at the last possible, looking eager for whatever boring grammar shit they’ll be looking at.

“Et pouvez-vous conjuguer le verbe faire au conditionnel pour la classe?” The teacher continues. Brianna does so, perfectly of course, but she seems tired to Aquaria, who stares at the back of her friend’s head with worry.

Obviously, she’s just looking out for her friend, as she would any of them. Aquaria knows that Monét threw a party that she had to decline thanks to her portfolio work, and Brianna most likely went to it, or slept through her alarm, or would rather not be here, which is fair enough, but she still can’t help but worry.

Aquaria almost has to slap herself, as Madame Dupont starts to drone on about when to use the imperfect subjunctive (which is never in real life. Seriously who needs this?). She tells herself that she’s just looking for something to think about in this dull, dull class, and Brianna being late and tired has literally zero significance. People are allowed to be late sometimes, even Brianna. So, she just watches her as she twirls her hair round her finger, hair that she’s just shoved up in a ponytail without even brushing it. Not that she doesn’t look nice, still, annoyingly.

The class manages to end with no incident, and thankfully Aquaria is one of the few not called on for Madame Dupont’s never ending questions, because she wouldn’t have had a single clue what the hell to answer. She never really does.

She’s packing up to go at the end, grumbling to herself, when Brianna turns around, like she normally does to catch up with her friend after class, but today a frown is furrowing her features, as she looks right at the other girl, who does a slight double take at her unusually sad demeanour.

“Hey, Aqua,” Brianna says, slinging her bag over her shoulder and leaning forward on her friend’s desk.

“Hi, Bri, how was Monét’s?” Aquaria asks casually, trying to pretend that she isn’t worried as she shoves her notebook in her own bag carelessly, too tired to give a shit about the state of it.

“Oh, I dunno, I didn’t go,” Brianna seems uninterested. “Do we have history today?”

“Um, no, not until third tomorrow,” Aquaria replies, a little shocked at the unusual bluntness from her friend.

Okay, something’s definitely wrong. Brianna knows her timetable off by heart, she always has done. Aquaria tries not to think too much of it, but it stays on her mind the whole day. She’s ferociously munching her salad at lunch, sat with her friends on their regular table and staring into space as they talk about what happened at the party she didn’t go to.

Brianna is strangely absent; usually she’s the heart of the table, always cracking the jokes and puns and causing their table to be the nosiest in the cafeteria, but today, though the noise of the girls screaming about the party is extremely prominent, one voice is missing. Well, two, but Aquaria’s quietness is never that unusual. Nobody else has commented on the lack of Brianna, which annoys Aquaria slightly, but also makes her think she’s kind of making a big deal out of nothing.

She notices after a while a drop in chatter and a shift in atmosphere and looks up at everyone.

They’re all looking at their friend aggressively stabbing a poor lettuce leaf with her fork like she has a personal vendetta against it, concern and amusement etched across their faces.

“Um, Q, are you planning on eating you salad, or murdering it?” Blair, Aquaria’s best friend, asks her, laughing slightly.

“Sorry,” she mumbles in reply simply, rolling her eyes as the focus remains on her.

“What’s eating you, bitch? Your portfolio?” Vixen, the most blunt and unabashed of the group, asks. Everyone knows the stress that Aquaria has put herself under; her whole life has basically boiled down to this portfolio that is supposed to showcase who she is as a person, and, more importantly, a designer. To say there has been tears shed would be saying the least.

Aquaria puts down her fork and pushes her salad away, no longer hungry. “I’m bored. You’re all boring,” she jokes, rolling her eyes again.

“Well, sorry you’re too focused on your career to come to the best party of senior year,” Monet cheers.

“Actually, bitch,” argues Asia. “The best party of senior year was definitely my pool party right before school started!”

“Hah, that was before school started so it was technically it was a summerparty and not in senior year, so I win!” Monét laughs back loudly.

Aquaria stops listening. This argument is a regular occurrence between Asia and Monét, who constantly keep a friendly competition with each other. Their group has a specific dynamic, especially as they happen to be the most popular girls in the school, not that Aquaria really cares that much. She’s definitely not a people person.

Each girl in the group seems to have a specific, unspoken role and dynamic, and somehow they all create a powerful sort of clique. There’s no room for anyone else, not that Vixen would let them in anyway, unless they proved themselves to her, a task which few have ever succeeded at.

Which is why Aquaria notices so much when someone is missing, it doesn’t matter who. Just because it’s Brianna now that she’s worrying about, doesn’t mean that if, say, Kameron was acting differently next week she wouldn’t be just as worried about her. Aquaria cares about her friends, so what?

So what?

The week continues in pretty much the same way as Monday. Aquaria picks up on the subtle differences in Brianna, including her lateness to most of her classes, and her lack of makeup. To most people, it’s not a big deal at all, and she could blame it on the stress of nearing the end of the year. In fact, that’s what it would look like to any other person but Aquaria, especially the rest of their friendship group which have failed to notice the shift in Brianna’s behaviour.

God, she is going insane. She starts to drive herself crazy, overanalysing Brianna’s every move, from the back of her head in class, which is unusually slumped and bent over, to her weak attempts at jokes and uncharacteristic quietness at lunchtime, to the bluntness of their normally flowing conversation. It’s ridiculous, and distracting. Especially because none of their other friends have mentioned anything, at least not to Aquaria, and she really doesn’t want to bring anything up for fear of looking like a total idiot.

The worry is crippling to Aquaria, as though somebody is repeatedly whacking her over the head with a huge stick. Every time she tries to forget about it, bam and it’s back. She knows it’s ridiculous, and she blames her own stress. Her mind is clearly looking for something to do, bored to death of her sewing, sketching and designing the same pieces over and over again. It’s insanity. Complete and utter insanity.

But on Thursday, her insanity is justified, just slightly; after the class get a test back in History and Aquaria peers over to see she did better than Brianna, she can tell it’s with due reason. Brianna studies hard. Brianna puts school before everything. Brianna never gets below a B. In anything. And here she is with a C-, not even looking that fazed by it.

It’s like she’s given up. It’s eating away at Aquaria’s brain, so much so that she starts to design a new garment inspired by melting flesh and a revealed skull, and then hates it and screws it all up again. She wants to know why, without having to ask her. Confrontation is not her strong suit, especially when she could be completely wrong.

She’s hanging out at Blair’s house on Thursday night, an excuse to use her mom’s sewing machine, which is a million times better than her own, to test out some material she found that she wants to work with, but it keeps going wrong.

Aquaria is a good seamstress. She prides herself on it, in fact. It’s her thing. But after she fucks up the hem for the millionth time, she screams and rips apart her fabric, throwing it in the air in the most dramatic fashion ever.

Blair looks up from her laptop, where she’s trying to complete some homework, concern and worry etched onto her face as she witnesses her best friend’s outburst.

“Um, are you okay?” she asks, knowing that Aquaria is someone that tends to bottle up her emotions, not scream and throw things.

“I’m just stressed about this whole portfolio shit, I need it to be perfect,” Aquaria lies, rubbing her forehead aggressively.

“Lie,” says Blair nonchalantly, closing her laptop lid and moving to sit beside her best friend, who is trying desperately to stop her eyes from watering.

“Excuse me?” Aquaria says timidly, not looking her friend as she blinks furiously down at the sewing machine.

“You’ve been stressed about this for months. And when you’re stressed you turn it out, not fuck it up. Something else is on your mind and you’re telling me what it is right now,” Blair demands.

“You’ll think I’m stupid.”

“If it’s got you this worked up, it can’t be stupid. Spill! Spill!” Blair starts chanting and it almost puts a smile on Aquaria’s face, who pushes her friend playfully to get her to shut up.

“Okay, fine, Jesus. I’m just worried about a friend of ours who I think there’s something wrong with. She’s just acting really weird and I’m wondering if she’s okay,” she mumbles, trying to play it off as no big deal, which it probably isn’t.

“Who is this?” There’s a long pause whilst Aquaria stares down at her manicured nails in shame. “Aquaria, who?”

“Brianna.”

“Oh for god’s – you can’t let her ruin this for you. I know you’re obsessed with her-”

“Woah, woah, wait a minute, I am not obsessed with her. She got a C- today, B,” Aquaria says dramatically, like that’s supposed to clear everything up. Blair seems unbothered.

“So what?”

“So what?” Aquaria repeats in disbelief, annoyed at the lack of reaction. “This is Brianna. She always gets A’s.”

“Q, I love you, but I don’t think that Brianna getting a C- on one test should be the focus of you little brain right now,” Blair says, gesturing to Aquaria’s sketches that are now littering her room, along with the torn bit of fabric. “Have you even talked to her about it?”

“Well, no, but she’s not really given me much of a chance. We’re not exactly super close anymore, are we?” Aquaria feels her throat close up a little, before shaking her head, her friend giving her a pitying look.

“If it stops you worrying, just grab her after class and ask her if she’s okay. It’s really not hard, babe, it’s just being a good friend, and I’ll bet she’ll be happy to know you’re thinking of her.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to her,” Aquaria mumbles, choosing to ignore the last statement, knowing it probably won’t help, especially as she’s the fucking worst at giving advice.

“Okay?” Blair asks, receiving a reluctant nod in reply from her friend, who picks up her material from the floor in shame.

Aquaria knows how she feels about Brianna isn’t just friendly. She does. Blair might be her best friend, and Monét might be Brianna’s, but they’ve known each other a long time, longer than any of the other girls in their friendship group.

Aquaria recalls the day they met, almost ten years ago. She was always left out and picked on by the other kids; they thought she was way too weird and stupid, always laughing at the things she said and how she acted, which is a huge deal when you’re eight. Aquaria hated them all, and hated school. And then, a new girl moved to Aquaria’s town, and started at the school.

She had the biggest, kindest brown eyes that Aquaria had ever seen, and made it her mission to befriend the quirky girl who preferred to be alone. She sat down next to her whilst all the other kids went out to play, and handed her half her sandwich without a second word.

And that was that.

And then they grew back apart again, after a night which left Aquaria in tears, and unable to look her former best friend in the eye for months. They remained friends, tied together by mutual friends and mutual classes, but it’s nothing like it used to be.

So they’re not the closest of friends, not anymore, but conversation still comes naturally and easily, they can laugh together without it being awkward, and pick up wherever they left off. Aquaria’s quite an awkward person, but Brianna feels like someone who will never judge or ridicule her, who she can always come to for any sort of advice.

Feelings have been brewing under the surface for Aquaria for years now, of course she knows that, she’s just been pretending they’re not there, because a harmless crush is pointless when Brianna has no interest in her in the slightest. Her act of indifference has most people convinced, everyone except for Blair, who can see right through the paper-thin charade and has been teasing her best friend about it ever since.

Aquaria tries not to care. She can admire Brianna in class and be her friend the rest of the time. It’s not that hard, really. It’s not.

Aquaria has French the period before lunch on Friday, so she plans on grabbing Brianna after the class so they can have some time to talk. Her plan, however, is foiled when the blonde doesn’t even show up.

Aquaria spends the whole class sick with worry, unable to concentrate on her work, her nails tapping the surface of the desk rapidly, staring at the door and expecting her friend’s face to poke round it at any second, an apologetic smile pulling at her plump lips. Her mind is in overdrive, and it feels like everything is going off track.

As soon as class is over, she starts to walk to lunch slowly, pulling out her phone and calling her friend once, twice, three times with no reply. Aquaria rakes her hand through her black hair, almost clawing at her scalp.

She needs to calm down. Brianna is probably sick, and that’s why she’s off school, and sleeping, and that’s why her phone is left unanswered. Something in the back of Aquaria’s mind is still buzzing, however, drowning out her attempts to reassure herself and filling her mind with anxiety, like the sea pulling her under on a stormy day.

So, she bypasses the cafeteria and heads instead straight to her locker. Aquaria takes a second to linger over the polaroids decorating the inside of the door, adorned with stickers and hearts drawn sloppily in black sharpie. They’re mostly of herself and Blair, though it’s closely followed by some of her favourites of her and Brianna throughout their ten years of up-and-down friendship, as well as the other girls that Aquaria is friends with, group selfies and candid shots from parties and movie nights. Her eyes stop on a picture the summer before she started high school, of her and Brianna lounging by a pool, goofy grins on their faces, their bodies clad in bikinis. They had been so excited, buzzing with nervous energy about the adventures of high school that were to come.

Aquaria shakes her head and grabs her gym bag, slamming her locker shut and cutting off her thoughts of a simpler time, before she realised what a hellhole this place actually is, and what the hell it did to her friendship.

She storms through school like a lady on a mission. No matter what, Aquaria can always calm herself down through a vigorous dance session, pushing her body to the limit until she’s drenched in sweat and her only thought is of a shower.

She has a free period next, so she changes quickly, shooting a quick text to the group chat to let them know what she’s up to, planning to use all the time she can get to try to push the ridiculous thoughts of Brianna from her mind, at least for a little bit.

The high school is attached to a leisure centre, which the students use themselves in classes, but is open to the general public also, therefore the students have access to private rooms they can use to practise sports, as the public do, considering they pay.

Aquaria makes use of this any time she can, choosing the smaller rooms any time she can to practise her dance in peace.

Aside from a class playing volleyball in the gym, the area is empty as Aquaria walks back to the changing rooms, every single muscle on her whole body screaming out in pain. She loves to push herself or she feels like there’s no point, but today she obliterated the limit, only stopping when her throat screamed for water.

It worked, as well, as she soaks herself in the scolding water of the shower, her mind is taken up by the success of her session and not a certain blonde. As the heat from the water cascades over her body, she lets her mind empty of all thoughts, closing her eyes against the surprisingly decent stream of water and takes her time washing her body, allowing herself to be at peace for a while.

Finally, Aquaria steps out the shower, grabbing a towel to wrap around her glistening body. The changing rooms are empty, therefore she is free to take her time to dry herself with the scratchy material of the towel from her gym bag, not quite ready to face the outside world yet.

She still has half of the period left before the next class starts, so, after redressing and pulling her damp hair into a careless messy bun, she decides to head to the library. Not to do school work, of course, just to flip through the latest issue of Vogue in search for inspiration.

Aquaria is happily walking up to her locker through the deserted hallways of the school, feeling surprisingly refreshed, her usually busy mind feeling almost new again, before it will be undoubtedly hit with a new tidal wave of thoughts. Her locker is up in the music block, as that’s where she has homeroom, and she’s just walking past one of the sound proof practise rooms when she happens to glance inside, through the glass panel in the door, and spots a familiar face, distorted by the glass, but familiar all the same.

Brianna.

She’s sitting at the far end of the tiny room, with her feet propped up on a chair, her head bent over a guitar, and she appears to be singing something. Aquaria inches carefully closer to the door, watching her friend who is oblivious to her presence. She looks so sad.

Brianna has always loved music, Aquaria knows that. She taught herself how to play guitar at a young age, and constantly came up with little melodies and songs that went with them, getting her best friend to chip in on the harmonies once in a while. But, to Aquaria’s knowledge, she hasn’t played in a while. And here she is, when she should probably be in class, strumming her old guitar, distinguishable by the old band stickers that faded a long time ago, and the dent from the time Aquaria dropped in on her wooden floor, by accident

And then Brianna looks up, and spots Aquaria standing in the doorway holding a gym bag and a concerned gaze, and lifts her hand up in a sort of half-hearted wave, getting up and placing the battered guitar down. She goes over to the door where Aquaria is frozen in a sort of silent embarrassment at being caught, and opens it.

“Hi,” Brianna says simply, before walking back into the room and retaking her seat.

Aquaria supposes that this as an invitation, and cautiously enters the room, shutting the door softly behind her, before perching on the piano stool close to where her friend is sitting. She studies her face for a second, all the worry and anxiety that she just worked so hard to get rid of flooding back and smacking her across the head again.

“What are you doing? Are you okay, Bri?”

At least she can finally talk to Brianna, again, and settle the matter for good, but the response from her friend is not at all what she’s expecting, her sad brown eyes lifting up to gaze into her own, her mind clearly occupied by something that has been pressing down on her for a while.

“What happened to me and you?”

It feels like a slap across the face, a cold, hard slap with a wet fish. That’s not even dead. And covered in slime.

“What do you mean?” Aquaria’s mouth feels dry, so she runs her tongue across her lower lip, which helps very little. She knows exactly what she means.

“We used to be best friends, Aqua. We were inseparable. Don’t you remember us sharing everything? I stayed at your house, like, every other night. What the fuck went wrong?” Brianna is angry now, and it takes Aquaria by surprise – it’s a rare emotion in the usually laid back, easy going and happy girl that she used to know so well.

“We’re still friends,” Aquaria mumbles, though it’s a poor attempt at reassurance. Is this what’s been weighing down on Brianna the last week? Surely it can’t be? And yet, a small part of Aquaria’s heart, dedicated to Brianna, lights up in hope that it could be.

“Yeah, great. I can’t remember the last time I was alone with you. When did we last hang out that wasn’t at fucking lunchtime?”

It hurts. It really fucking hurts. Aquaria’s chest feels like it’s closing in on her. Brianna doesn’t remember. She doesn’t remember the fatal night that caused Aquaria to distance herself from Brianna, gradually, slowly, because the more time she spent with her, the more it hurt, like a dagger twisted into her chest, plunging deeper as the days, weeks, months passed. She had to get it out, even if that meant the end of their friendship, which it almost did.

She sure as hell isn’t going to bring it up.

“I know,” she says instead, shaking her head, hoping that the hurt she feels hasn’t seeped into her voice. “You know I still care about you. Which is why I want to know what’s been going on with you?”

“Don’t change the subject!” Brianna groans, clearly uncomfortable at what she knows Aquaria is about to bring up.

“Bri, you got a C and didn’t even care. You missed French, and you’re in here in a free period! I’m not crazy, something is the matter,” Aquaria says, mostly to reassure herself. There’s a long pause, as Brianna appears to be thinking something over, painfully slowly. Aquaria chews at the inside of her cheek anxiously, enough so that the metallic taste of her own blood seeps into her mouth

“Well, okay,” Brianna says, at last, looking up at Aquaria with a small, sad smile on her face. “Maybe you can help me. I could use your advice.”

“You know I’m shit at advice. You do know I’m shit at advice?” Aquaria says. If Brianna remembered who she was at all she would know that, but the girl just shakes her head, looking at Aquaria as if she holds a cure for all her troubles.

“I think you’re my best bet, right now.”

There’s something about this statement that makes Aquaria extremely nervous, the worry now pounding through her mind, amplified to a million times to what it was before, but how the hell can she refuse now?

“Um, okay, I’ll try my best.”

“I’ve been, sort of, realising some things about myself recently.”

“Things?”

There’s a long, painful, drawn out pause. Brianna can’t even look at Aquaria, who’s staring at her so intensely she might possibly be about to burn a hole through her skull.

“Like, maybe I’m not actually straight?”

Oh. That was not what Aquaria was expecting, at all. She almost chokes on air, trying her best to maintain a neutral disposition as she nods encouragingly, willing Brianna to continue as her mind starts whirring at a million miles an hour. Is this about her? Can she possibly dare to hope that it is?

“You’re… gay?”

“Maybe, god, I don’t know. I haven’t talked to a single person about this yet.”

God, that feels like old times. A bittersweet wave of nostalgia washes over Aquaria. Sitting up for hours and blurting any random thing that they could ever possibly think of. No secrets, no lies. Come to think of it, Brianna did once say that she had an unexplainable crush on the groovy chick girl that adorned her bedding as a kid.

“I just feel so lost, all of a sudden. I’m eighteen years old and I’m only just figuring out that I like girls?”

“Hey, that’s not that old. People don’t figure it out until college normally.”

Brianna laughs, though it’s painfully bitter, shaking her head in amusement, causing her friend to smile, just slightly.

“See, bad advice! What did I tell you?”

“I just can’t stop thinking about it, like, it’s keeping me up at night. And I have to avoid her, which is where you come in.”

“What?”

“Well, she made me realise I like girls at all. I have a huge, ridiculous crush on her.”

“Who, Bri?”

“Blair.”

Aquaria is a loyal person. She prides herself on it, even. If someone asks her a good quality about herself, she would probably say the fact that she’s loyal, and dependable. Someone you can rely on. Which is why, on Saturday afternoon, her fingers are hovering over the keyboard on her phone, her messages open to her chat with Blair, trying to decide what to do.

On the one hand, loyalty to her best friend, a girl who has stuck beside her since they met, who is the sweetest and gentlest person ever, who she has always told everything to, would prevail that she texts her and tells her exactly what is going. On the other hand, loyalty to Brianna, a girl who she used to be so close, who she’s trying to build her friendship back up with, who is relying on her help, would prevail that she keeps her mouth shut and instead just tries her best to get them together.

It’s been fucking with her head since Brianna left yesterday, weighing heavily on her mind as she tries to set up for the party. Since it was such late notice, she was hoping that not many people would come, but, her pool parties remain legendary and it seems as though lots of people are buzzing about it. It’s probably the last thing she can be bothered to do, normally she loves hosting, the process of setting everything up and making her house look stunning, with a look that could kill and a legendary soundtrack, but today she really isn’t feeling it.

After finishing a painting of the sunset last night surprisingly quickly, Aquaria had felt inspiration and motivation coursing through her veins for the first time in what felt like forever. She hovered over the picture she had taken of Brianna, but forced herself to close it, instead sketching a design that she knows for sure will make it to her portfolio. Going to bed, and finally drifting off to sleep as dawn started to break back out, her mind was buzzing with excitement, feeling as though she’d found her muse at last in the form of the sky. Now, all she wants to do is go material shopping and focus all of her energy on this look, not get wasted with a bunch of her peers.

But, maybe it’s what she needs right now, after all, her mind has been constantly stressing over her portfolio for what feels like forever now. Drinks, friends, and not to mention busying herself with being Brianna’s wingman for the night with Blair will hopefully take her mind off all the stress.

It makes her feel so guilty that she’s not mentioned at all to Blair what went on yesterday. She called her after Brianna left, telling her that she’d come round and their friendship was starting to be repaired. Blair has been so excited for her, making jokes about how it would progress and they would fall in love, and Aquaria had felt sick, knowing that it was her that was the subject of Brianna’s affections. She wanted nothing more than to tell her, but the thought of Brianna, tortured in her realisation of her feelings, let alone her sexuality, trusting Aquaria with the information and relying on her help, had stopped her.

She finishes getting everything ready by four. The party is due to start at about seven, and Brianna will be over any minute.

It’s making Aquaria a little nervous, and she’s not sure why. She’s worried her hands will shake as she attempts to apply the makeup to her face, worried her breath will be too heavy on her cheeks, worried she won’t be able to look Brianna in the eye.

Brianna shows up at half four, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, and carrying a bag stuffed with clothes, or options to what will make her look the fittest, as she puts it, a big grin splitting her face in two.

Her hair is done, falling in soft waves that cascade over her shoulders, but her face is makeup free, ready for Aquaria to paint, and she can see a hint of some freckles lightly dusting her cheeks from where the sun has hit them in the warm spring weather.

She’s excited, practically buzzing with energy as she skips up the stairs to where she knows Aquaria’s room is, dumping her bag on the floor and hopping up onto her bed, where she’s sat a million times, her short legs swinging back and forth, unable to reach the floor.

“Ooh, you’re painting again!” Brianna exclaims after looking around and spotting the painting from last night propped up by the window. Aquaria, over at her desk and gathering the makeup she’ll need, blushes.

“It’s nothing good,” she mumbles, but Brianna isn’t listening, she’s already gone over to admire the painting, looking closely at the blend of colours and the soft flicks created by the careful stroke of Aquaria’s paintbrush.

“You talented bitch! Are you sure you want to go into fashion? I swear, this could be hung in the MOMA,” Brianna marvels. Aquaria’s heart falls through the floor.

“Stop, shut up,” she says. She’s never been any good at all at taking compliments. Critiques, yes, but as soon as someone tells her a good thing about herself, she completely freezes and goes stiff. “It was just a quick thing.”

Brianna turns to beam at Aquaria, whose arms are laden with products and brushes.

“It’s beautiful, accept it. Now make me beautiful!” she says, clapping the palms of her hands together.

Aquaria wants to tell her she’s already beautiful, but she bites her tongue, instead laying out all her products across her bed where Brianna jumps up to sit again, and pulls up her desk chair to face her.

“Now,” Aquaria says, deciding to go full-on makeup artist mode. “It is a pool party, but are you planning on swimming? If so, I’ll do a natural and fresh-faced waterproof look, otherwise, we can make you look more glam.”

Brianna giggles at Aquaria’s suddenly serious demeanour, clearly excited to get her makeup done.

“Well,” she says, faking intensely pondering, like it’s the hardest decision on earth. “I do feel like it’s too cold for the pool, but who knows what drunk me will do. You know if one person jumps in I’ll probably jump in straight after.”

“Ah, alright. We’ll do a gorgeous glowy look, I will challenge Blair to keep her hands off of you!” Aquaria exclaims, slightly awkwardly, her voice dropping a little at the end of her sentence. She curses herself for it, but Brianna doesn’t seem to notice, a smile still etched on her face as she claps the palms of her hands together excitedly.

They’ve not been this close in so long. Not since the night that ended it all, and now, everything is different. It almost feels weird to lean across Brianna as Aquaria starts to the process, her hand so close to her thigh on the bed, their boobs almost grazing each other at the proximity. Brianna blinks softly as Aquaria’s breath fans across her face, her lips parted in concentration as she starts to rub primer into her flushed cheeks.

Brianna’s face feels warm under Aquaria’s fingers. She’s trying to be as gentle as possible, but she’s worried she’s hurting her as her face is flushed under her touch.

“Am I hurting you?” she asks, breaking the silence, her delicate fingers still moving in slow circles across Brianna’s skin, moving to her chin and across her nose.

“N-no,” Brianna stutters, before clearing her throat awkwardly. Her eyes flicker up to meet Aquaria’s. They look so clear that Aquaria is almost surprised she can’t see her reflection in them. Her brown irises are flickered with flecks of gold and Aquaria almost has to tear her own eyes away as she reaches for her foundation.

“This is my favourite,” she says, trying to pull back into beauty guru mode, but her voice holds a softer register than before. “It won’t go anywhere.”

She dots the foundation all over Brianna’s face, before starting to softly dab with her sponge. This part always used to make Brianna giggle, her ticklish nature coming through, especially as Aquaria focused on her neck. She’s giggling now, obviously trying to suppress it but her eyes crinkle and her body shakes slightly as she tries to hold in the laughter. It’s infectious, and Aquaria finds herself grinning as Brianna’s head bobs back and forth, trying to pretend she’s not ticklish.

“Hold still!” she laughs, using her free hand to gently take hold of Brianna’s chin. Her laughter immediately ceases, and she tenses slightly under the touch, her lips parting as she takes a sharp intake of breath.  

Aquaria takes a long time to blend out the foundation. Her thumb subconsciously strokes against Brianna’s jawline, and Brianna’s tongue subconsciously flickers out across her lower lip, her warm brown eyes blinking slowly.  

Finally, the foundation cannot possibly be blended anymore, so Aquaria drops her hand from Brianna’s chin, and continues the makeup process slowly.

The atmosphere has definitely shifted. Neither girl is speaking as Aquaria continues with the makeup, her skilled hands working at Brianna’s face as the blonde sits chewing the inside of her cheek. Aquaria wants to tell her to stop it, because it’s annoying as hell when you’re trying to apply makeup to said cheek, but something stops her. Brianna seems nervous, and there’s a lump in her throat. It’s probably about Blair, so Aquaria bites her tongue, metaphorically but also literally as she concentrates on her work.  

She tries to concentrate on how much she loves makeup and how happy she to have someone to practise on again. Blair lacks the patience for her experiments, always fidgeting and getting bored, hating the whole process, but Brianna was always the perfect model, and her biggest hypeman at the end, saying she was obsessed with the look, even if it took 6 hours and looked like shit. Which was common.  

Finally, all that’s left is lipstick. Aquaria dithers, knowing Brianna is perfectly capable of putting it on herself, and it’s inappropriate to touch her lips, probably. But for some reason, she wants to. It’s just so the look will be perfect, of course. The application will be smooth, and Blair will find her irresistible.  

She gently takes hold of Brianna’s chin again to steady her face. Brianna, who wasn’t paying attention, jumps ever so slightly at the sudden contact, staring at Aquaria with her big, brown eyes widened.

“Can you open like this for me,” says Aquaria softly, demonstrating with her own mouth slightly agape. She obliges, silently, blinking softly, which Aquaria tries to ignore, instead focusing on Brianna’s lips as she swipes her lipstick across her open bottom lip. Brianna’s lips are plumper than her own, and pinker, and they pick up pigment with less ease, so she has to work a little harder on her lips, taking her time to make sure the lipstick looks perfect, because, obviously, you want it to stay on.

“Eyes closed,” instructs Aquaria, and Brianna’s eyes immediately droop shut on the command. She sprays her setting spray on her friend’s face, before leaning back to admire her work.

She looks good. Really good. Aquaria went for a soft pink eye look, with bronzy and glowing cheeks, and a lipstick that is remarkably close to Brianna’s natural colour. It suits her really well, so Aquaria’s eyes linger on Brianna’s lips, out of jealousy, of course.

I want to kiss her.  

Oh god, where did that come from? Of course she doesn’t want to kiss her, that’s ridiculous. It’s just because of the close proximity of the last hour, and the focus on her lips. That’s all.

“Um, okay,” says Aquaria, causing Brianna’s eyes to flutter open. Aquaria pushes herself back, quickly, getting up from her chair and turning away from Brianna, who shifts on her bed, reaching for her handheld mirror lying near her.

She needs to get drunk, that’s all. Tequila is the answer to this insanity, to her racing mind. Her stupid, dumb thoughts of her friend.

“Ooh, I look so good!” exclaims Brianna, admiring her own face from several different angles, getting a close look at her eyes and cheeks.

“Yeah, you look beautiful. Good luck to Blair if she wants to keep her hands off you.”

Why did she say that? That’s a weird fucking thing to say. It makes her sound like she wants her hands on Brianna, and she doesn’t, not one bit. Nor Brianna’s hands on her, for that matter. Nor her lips. Not at all.

But she hears Brianna giggle, and turns as she jumps down from the bed, taking a short step and wrapping her in a hug, her short arms around Aquaria’s waist, and her head pressed against her shoulder. Aquaria’s arms wrap around her instinctively, giving the shorter girl a small squeeze.

“Thanks, Aqua,” Brianna mumbles into her shoulder, before pulling away just as quickly and giving her a beaming smile. “Now I need to get dressed!”

Aquaria laughs. She’s already decided what she wants to wear, and she’s going to be doing a full glam look on herself, because there is absolutely no way in hell she’s going in the pool. Even drunk-her wouldn’t do that. She hopes.

They put an old playlist on that they used to listen to all the time as prepubescent tweens, chock-a-block with old classics, from Cher to Prince to One Direction to Disney and back again, which has both girls shamelessly screaming along to the music as they each get ready. Well, Brianna is ready pretty quickly, opting for a metallic gold bikini with a sheer, tight white dress over it thanks to Aquaria’s suggestion, and is dancingaroundd the bedroom like a crazy person as Aquaria attempts to focus on her makeup, busy laughing and singing.

Finally, she’s finished, and she goes to the bathroom to put on a totally impractical high legged, low cut black leather swimsuit, with some shorts that are so short they can barely be classified as clothing. There’s no way she’s changing in front of Brianna, they’re not that comfortable with each other yet, and the other girl had clearly felt the same, because she didn’t even notice that she’d gone as she concentrated on her eyebrows. By the time she looked up, the blonde was back to dancing, this time in her outfit.

“Let’s get drunk!” Aquaria yells as she comes ou oft the bathroom, Brianna cheering wildly. They head downstairs, each wearing wedges. It’s just after seven, so Aquaria turns on her playlist for the night, at a lower volume to start with, as Brianna sloppily pours out to glasses of tequila, probably spilling more than she pours.

“To the first pool party of the season!” she yells, handing Aquaria a glass.

“To loving women!” Aquaria yells back. They chink their glasses together, yet more tequila spilling over the sides, and down the shots, both grimacing and coughing slightly. It’s been a hot minute since Aquaria had some alcohol, and by that she means a month, and she grins wildly at the familiar burning sensation in her throat.

Aquaria’s pouring out the next shot, wasting far less, when the doorbell rings, and the tell-tale laugh of Monét is heard over the music, piercing the air.

“Paaaaart-ay!” yells Brianna, throwing her arms in the air and screaming.

It’s half eight, and Aquaria is wasted already. Not completely, but she’s getting there. People keep handing her shots, and she keeps taking and downing them, not caring what’s in them.

Most people are outside; the evening is pleasantly warm, and several people are messing around in the pool, which is definitely going to have to be cleaned before her parents get home.

She hasn’t seen Brianna for a while. She’s in the living room, dancing in a group with Vixen, Asia and Blair, so she has no idea where she could be, but it’s not the first thing on her mind as she has her arm around Blair’s shoulders, screaming along to the music and shaking all she has.

Her mind is totally not on Brianna, but she can’t help but think about how she’s not spoken to Blair all night. And Blair is tipsy right now, most people are outside and Aquaria is there to tell her to egg her on, it would be the perfect opportunity to speak to her. But, there’s no sign of Brianna. Not that she’s even thinking about it.

The upbeat song ends and is replaced by something with a more laidback tone. Asia splits off from the group, exclaiming how she’s gasping for vodka, and Aquaria can’t help but marvel at how good an idea that is, trotting behind her to the kitchen.

“So, you have your eyes on anyone?” Asia yells over the music, gesturing to everybody outside as she tops her vodka up with lemonade. She doesn’t seem drunk, but Asia never normally is one to get wasted, always looking out for her friends instead, and Aquaria grabs the bottle of vodka, swaying slightly as she takes a long gulp straight from the bottle.

“I’m wingwomanning,” she slurs, struggling through the big word and hiccupping. Asia laughs at her, grabbing her shoulders to steady her friend and forcing the bottle out of her hands, placing it on the counter out of reach.

“To who?” she asks.

“Briiiiianna,” Aquaria draws out her name, laughing at herself. “She’s got a crush.”

Asia’s face contorts in surprise, for a reason unknown to Aquaria. Not that she cares at that given moment, her mind fogged with alcohol.

“Well, where is she now?”

“Mm, good question,” Aquaria comments, looking around her kitchen as though it’s not just them in there. “Oh, probably my room!”

“Go find her then, dumbass!” Asia laughs, pushing Aquaria gently, causing her to sway a little again.

“Ooh, girl. I’m going, I’m going!” Aquaria laughs, turning and practically running out the kitchen.

She walks back through her living room, feeling pleased with herself, and happy that she can see Brianna again, so she can help her, of course. Blair and Vixen are still dancing together. Their bodies are kind of close together, and Blair’s head is thrown back in laughter, Vixen grinning from ear to ear.

Aquaria waves at them, even though they’re not looking and don’t see her and she looks like an idiot, and starts searching her house for Brianna.

She probably looks in the same three rooms about eight times, but to Aquaria it feels like she’s searching in a mansion with a million bedrooms and bathrooms. Eventually, she crashes open the door to the spare room after what feels like forever, and there she is, Brianna, sat facing away from her on the bed, her shoulders slumped slightly.

“Bri!” Aquaria yells happily, unable to read the tone of the room as Brianna turns to face her, a small smile breaking her face.

“Hi, Aqua,” she says sadly, and Aquaria takes this as her cue to make her way over to the bed and sits, basically on top of Brianna, wrapping her arms around her neck and squeezing her in an aggressive, drunk attempt at a hug.

Brianna has instinctively wrapped her arm around Aquaria’s waist, trying to steady her friend who is rocking back and forth, her cheek pressed against hers.

“I don’t get you at all,” Brianna shakes her head. Aquaria is sober enough to realise she isn’t drunk at all, the drink in her left hand is almost full and she doesn’t remember her taking part in any shots, except the first two with her. But she’s drunk enough not to remember how happy and excited Brianna had been for the party, how ready she was to get drunk. Aquaria stops rocking like a lunatic and drops her hands from Brianna’s neck, though her left leg is still over the top of Brianna’s right one, her foot bouncing up and down, her hands resting on Brianna’s thigh.

“Why, what did I do?” Aquaria pouts, upset at how upset Brianna is. The blonde sighs, pushing Aquaria off of her a little as she scoots away from her touch. Aquaria’s hands fall to rest in her lap, her head dropping in disappointment, missing the lack of contact.

“Don’t you even know how much you hurt me? I don’t even know what I did, for god’s sake, and suddenly you drop me like I’m nothing, like I meant nothing to you for six fucking years! And we couldn’t just be enemies, we had to stay friends through high school! You know how hard it was to be sitting across from you at lunch, watching you laugh with your new best friend, inviting her to your house, whilst I had to sit there, wondering what the fuck I did? And now, we’re best fucking friends again, you’re doing my makeup and telling me I’m beautiful like the last three and half years didn’t even happen! What the fuck, Aquaria?”

Aquaria blinks, trying to take in what Brianna says as she blurts it all out at once. She’s angry as hell, and maybe taking advantage of the fact that Aquaria possibly won’t remember this in the morning. She’s not sure she wants to. Her head is spinning, and she wants to throw up all of a sudden. She is aware of the tears in Brianna’s eyes, and wants to cry herself, but she swallows heavily instead.

“You don’t remember what happened. You were drunk,” she whispers, so quietly she doesn’t even think Brianna heard it at first, but the blonde is looking at her, and a tear slips down her cheek. Aquaria reaches up to her face and brushes it away, and Brianna lets her.

“Tell me,” the blonde whispers, almost desperately, all the anger faded into sadness.

“I kissed you,” Aquaria says, for the first time, because there’s no filter on her mouth. “And you hated it. You slapped me and you ran away and I was humiliated.”

Brianna says nothing. She looks shocked, and confused, and Aquaria plays with her fingers, her drunk mind not comprehending the magnitude of what she’s just revealed, already moving on to the next thing.  

“Why haven’t you spoken to Blair?” she asks. “That was what this whole night was for. She’s with Vixen downstairs, you should-”

“Aquaria, shut up. Please.”

Aquaria shuts up, unsure of what she’s done to upset her friend. She thought she understood Brianna, but she’s starting to think that she couldn’t have been more wrong, as the blonde takes a long gulp of her drink, and looks Aquaria dead in the eye, who cowers under her gaze.

“Why couldn’t you have just fucking said something, Aquaria? Anything! I’ve had to wonder for almost four fucking years about what the hell I did to you to make you hate me so much,” Brianna doesn’t seem angry at all, but the hurt in her voice makes Aquaria’s heart ache. She plays with her fingers in her lap, unable to look her in the eye.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you didn’t know. I thought you hated me,” mumbles Aquaria, though she knows it’s a weak excuse.  

“It wasn’t me who ruined our friendship. You pushed me away, you ignored my calls, you stopped speaking to me altogether. You broke my fucking heart, not the other way around.”

“Well why do you think I pushed you away?” Aquaria demands, and the filter on her mouth would typically stop her from saying what she is about to. “I kissed you and you slapped me! I was heartbroken.”

Something registers across Brianna’s face, but Aquaria isn’t looking up to see it, and Brianna stands up, downing the rest of her drink, catching her attention.

“I want to be drunk. Right now,” she says, and Aquaria just nods, watching Brianna start to walk towards the door again. “You coming?”

Aquaria doesn’t want to. She wants to throw up, she wants to down a gallon of water. She wants everyone to go home. But she smiles, and gets up anyway, reaching out to take Brianna’s outstretched hand, and is lead back down to the party.

As Brianna starts to get drunker, Aquaria starts to sober.  

She throws up, as she thought she would, in the downstairs bathroom, and from then switches to water, watching as the rest of the party get more and more wasted, sulking in the corner like a toddler who hasn’t gotten her way as her mind plays her argument with Brianna over and over again.

Almost everybody is outside now, the pool filled with drunken teenagers, and the only people she can tell that aren’t black-out drunk are Asia, who is trying to stop Monét from completely stripping to skinny dip, and Blair, who is sipping her drink in the corner out the way as she watches the shitshow around her. She catches Aquaria’s eye and waves, immediately coming over.

“Hey, why do you not look drunk anymore?” she asks, wrapping her hand around Aquaria’s arm and giving it a small squeeze. “What’s up, boo?”

“I had a sobering experience with Brianna,” Aquaria sighs, giving her best friend a look that says it all. Blair pulls a face of sympathy, not needing to ask any questions.

It’s as though Brianna was waiting for Blair to approach Aquaria, because suddenly she’s there, on the other side of Blair, looking totally out of it. Aquaria’s notes proudly that her makeup still looks flawless, despite a slight smudging of her lipstick, though now is hardly the time.

“Heeey, sexy ladies!” Brianna’s drawls, bursting into laughter, though it’s hardly funny. She grabs Blair’s thin arm, digging in her nails and pulling it slightly, which makes Blair wince. Aquaria wants to slap her stupid, drunk face.

“Aqua, can I borrow Blair? We need to chat,” she hiccups. Blair shoots Aquaria a look of confusion and concern, and Aquaria feels physically sick, and this time it’s not a result of the alcohol. This is not how this night was supposed to go, at all. Brianna has had all night to make her move, to dance with Blair, to chat to Blair, to do whatever the hell she wanted to do. And she has to choose now, to drag Aquaria’s best friend off to god knows where, right now that Aquaria needs her.

“Sure,” Aquaria says curtly, turning away as Brianna laughs and starts to drag a bewildered Blair away.

What the hell is this night? Aquaria thinks to herself as she stares absentmindedly at Kameron making out with some guy in their year in her pool. She just wants to curl up in a ball and go to sleep. She regrets her outfit too. It’s starting to get cold, and she doesn’t have the buzz of alcohol to keep her warm. It sucks.

It really fucking sucks.

She takes one last look at the party, and turns to go back inside, walking slowly up the stairs to her bedroom.

Aquaria takes her time taking off her makeup, thoroughly cleansing her face as she feels tiredness wash over her. Her mind won’t shut off, won’t stop thinking about the stupid night, and she’s stuck on her hand’s rubbing moisturiser into Brianna’s face, dancing like an idiot with her to stupid, old songs, squeezing her tightly, not the way she spat out words poisoned with anger and years of hurt.

Aquaria knows that pushing her away was wrong, she knew it then and she knows it now, she doesn’t need Brianna to remind her of that. But she stands by it. Being rejected hurt too bad.

She crawls into her bed, listening to the thumping of the music below, and turns to face the wall, her mind racing with thoughts of the blonde, good and bad.

She’s infuriating, and she’s driving Aquaria crazy. She’s lost and confused, wondering what the hell Brianna is doing right now with Blair, if she’s managed to make her move. Maybe they’re making out right now.

But something about it feels strange to Aquaria. Brianna’s behaviour the whole night has been contrasting and weird. She hopes to god that their argument hasn’t impeded their friendship, not now that it’s seemingly on the road to recovery.

Aquaria lies awake for hours, her mind whirring at a million miles a minute.

Aquaria doesn’t care for popularity. She’s not particularly outgoing, and she doesn’t ever really talk to people that she doesn’t know, disregarding a friendly smile or polite hello. She loves all her friends, so much, but she wouldn’t care less if they were the least popular girls in the school.

She has a few friends, from school, that she likes to talk to in her classes, such as Vanessa who she sits by in English, and Monique who never fails to make her laugh in gym.

She likes the order of it all, the safety and comfort of knowing who her friends are and the particularities of their group, where they all fall with each other and the unique bond she has with each of them. Aquaria doesn’t enjoy change, or disruption, and high school has been so familiar to her for the last four years.

Which is why, when Blair’s name leaves Brianna’s lips, her mouth turns dry. That’s the only reason, that it would mess everything up. She knows who Blair is to her, and she knows who Brianna is to her. She doesn’t really want that to change, not this way.

It’s a joke. It has to be a joke, right?

There’s no way Brianna likes Blair. Aquaria can’t even picture them together, so she just sort of sits there like an idiot, in shock.

“Aquaria? What should I do?”

Brianna’s talking to her, chewing the skin around her nails nervously, so she has to reply, but her throat has suddenly closed up and her mouth is drier than the Sahara, so she swallows the little saliva she has, running her tongue across her lower lip before glancing up at Brianna, who is looking at her with a mixture of embarrassment and desperation, clearly relying on her to respond.

“Um,” says Aquaria, after what feels like a horribly long pause, her voice coming out croaky and feeble despite her best efforts to sound unabashed. “I don’t know that she’s even gay. She’s never mentioned anything about liking girls.”

It’s true, and maybe it’s best to be honest, but the way that Brianna’s face falls has her regretting the statement all the same.

“You think I could win her over?” she says, staring at Aquaria as though she has the answers to all of life’s problems, which is incredibly unlikely seeing as she struggles to solve her own.

Aquaria’s mind is in overdrive again, as usual, it would seem, when it comes to her blonde friend. Her brain hurts from this information, so much so that she feels a sudden need to lie down, like she’s had just enough alcohol to put her in a sleepy mindset, before the stages of tipsy and giddiness. She either must drink some more, or sleep it off, so she attempts to swallow her worries, for Brianna, for Blair, and try to say the right thing.

“You could try?”

It’s probably not the right thing to say, judging from the drop of hopefulness in Brianna’s eyes, the usually bright brunette irises clouded with something darker, that Aquaria has rarely seen before. It’s a little worrying.

“Does me liking a girl make you uncomfortable, Aqua?”

The question takes Aquaria by complete surprise. She feels a lump in her throat at the thought that Brianna could even think that of her, given the nature of what went wrong between them those three and a bit years ago. It’s not the fact that she likes girls that’s bothering Aquaria. It’s just the girl in particular that she likes, it’s just the fact that she’s shit at advice, that she has no idea how to respond to a statement as huge as this one.

“I’m sorry,” says Brianna timidly, when she gets no response from her stunned friend. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Bri, I’m gay,” Aquaria interrupts suddenly, before a flush of embarrassment washes over her.

She doesn’t even mean to say it. She’s not sure why she does. She hadn’t even been aware of her own sexuality, always just pushing it from her mind in favour of matters that she deems more pressing. But, as she says it, she knows the unavoidable truth behind her statement. She’s never had a singular interest in boys, other than as friends, always staring too hard at girls and letting them occupy her swirling mass of thoughts. It’s rare she thinks about a boy, unless you count her dog. She just doesn’t care for them.

She finally glances at Brianna, who looks slightly confused, her features contorted into mild surprise, but there’s something else behind that, maybe some sort of familiarity or comfort, something just out of reach.

“I didn’t know,” she says timidly, smiling at Aquaria as though this information told her everything she needed to know, probably to know that she has someone to rely on to help her with the Blair situation.

“Well, now you do.” Aquaria attempts a smile, but it feels forced, somehow, like somebody else is tugging at her lips.

The bell rings, suddenly, but neither girl makes an attempt to move. Aquaria has Chemistry, a subject she actively despises, and probably the only one that she wouldn’t be bothered about failing. She wonders what Brianna has, but she knows that she has already missed two classes at least today, and the likelihood of her moving is slim.

Instead, Brianna picks up her discarded guitar from the floor and strums a little, her small fingers plucking at the strings.

“You weren’t this good last time I heard you,” says Aquaria casually, watching her friend’s fingers as they pluck out a complicated melody, her left hand sliding up and down the clefts of the guitar.

“Well, I’ve had time to practice. I’ve been missing your harmonies,” Brianna replies, her concentration resting on the guitar, her tongue pushes between her teeth slightly as she tries to maintain the rhythm.

Guilt rises to Aquaria’s mouth like bile. She swallows it quickly, trying to ignore the bitter tone laced through Brianna’s voice – Brianna who, as she recently has learnt, has no idea why their friendship went sour. Aquaria thinks of how she would have felt if Brianna had just started to distance herself from her with no warning or reason, spitting on the name of their friendship and kicking their trust into the dust.

But it’s too late now. It’s been done, and now all she can do is attempt to fix it.

Aquaria watches Brianna play for a little while, following her fingers, entranced by the beauty of the tune, which is melancholic and sorrowful, leaving an ache in Aquaria’s heart despite the lack of words.

She’s thrown from her trance by a sound as though someone is pushing on the door handle. Though Brianna seems not to have noticed, she looks up, seeing the face of a younger girl through the glass of the door, probably a freshman, holding a violin and looking puzzled and a little embarrassed.

Aquaria suddenly realises that Brianna probably isn’t supposed to be in here, and attempts to get her attention by reaching out to grab the girls arm, close to her wrist.

“Bri,” she says softly, as the playing is abruptly stopped and Brianna looks up at her. “Come on, let’s go home. My parents are away so we don’t have to worry about skipping school. We’ll talk, about Blair.”

Home. The word hangs in the air as a memory of what used to be, and Brianna seems to pick up on it, because it’s been years since she was last alone with Aquaria in the mansion that she calls her home.

Brianna has a huge family, and they’re very loud, taking up a lot of space in the small house they own a few streets over from Aquaria’s; there always seemed to be something going on, whether it was a screaming friend of one of her siblings over, the birth of one of the never-ending litters of kittens, a brother falling over and cracking his head against the wall, leaving a sizable dent, or anything else that irritated Brianna immensely. Aquaria, meanwhile, is an only child, discounting her dog, Bo, and her parents are often busy or away because of their work, or when they were there they were warm and welcoming, offering cookies and hot chocolate and fizzy drinks that Brianna’s mom would never let her have, could never afford to let her have. Not to mention the huge house is equipped with an outside pool, a luxury that stunned Brianna into silence as an eight-year-old the first time she saw it, and never tired her.

It truly used to be both of their homes, Brianna turning up whenever she wanted like a traveller returning from sea, always heartily welcomed by somebody, even if it was just the dog.

She, of course, has been to Aquaria’s house since that dreadful night which changed everything, but just for the pool parties the girl has become famous for, or joint sleepovers. Never alone, not recently.

But the offer is there now, hanging thick in the air between them as the freshman stays staring through the door, so thick that you could slice through it with a butter knife. Aquaria chews her lip in anticipation as she waits for the reply, hoping this attempt to set their friendship on the road to recreation will be enough.

“Yeah,” agrees Brianna, finally, reaching down to pick up her backpack, before standing up and slinging it across her shoulder. Aquaria follows her lead, watching Brianna carefully, who seems dazed, which worries Aquaria, so she again takes her friend’s wrist and almost has to pull her out the room, muttering a quiet apology to the freshman, who Brianna ignores completely, though whether purposefully or not Aquaria isn’t sure.

They stop by her locker, and she is finally able to dump her stuff, grabbing everything she needs for the weekend, her car keys in one hand and Brianna’s wrist remaining firmly in the other.

The walk through the empty school, assertive in where they’re going, a damp spot on Aquaria’s back from where her hair has dripped down from the water of the shower which Brianna stares at as she is lead out to the parking lot, wondering if she’s been dancing again, and if so, why.

The ride back to Aquaria’s is quiet, with Aquaria stealing glances at Brianna as she drives, ever so often, who is staring out the window as though it’s her first day in a foreign country, where she doesn’t speak the language and the culture is drastically different.

Aquaria feels uneasy still. Brianna’s behaviour remains unusual, and she wonders if it is because of Blair that she’s acting strange, or if there’s something more to it. Either way, Aquaria decides that being there for her is the best thing to do, even if it’s going to be difficult. Even if it will take some getting used to.

It’s April, and a sunny day, so the weather is warm enough to go outside. Aquaria is slightly relieved that Bo is at a doggy daycare, because Brianna looks like she could topple over from just a gentle nudge. The girls stop in the kitchen, dumping their bags and the guitar, and Brianna is able to follow, as though instinctively, the path that leads her out through the sliding door into the backyard, sitting herself on a sun lounger as Aquaria grabs them each a can of soda, a Diet Coke for her and a Sprite for Brianna, plus two straws, before joining her friend outside.

There’s so much to say that there’s nowhere to start, so they each sip, the silence deafening and an awkwardness enclosing them. The sun seems to be mocking the girls as it beats down on them, not quite aggressively but effective all the same. Aquaria pulls her damp black hair from its bun in an attempt to let it dry off a little.

“I’ve really missed you,” says Brianna at last, her timid voice cutting through the silence and startling Aquaria, who had been desperately searching for something to say herself. “Like, I know we’re still friends, but I just. I miss you. You know?”

She does. Painfully well.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s too late to say that now, but, I really am,” Aquaria mumbles, and Brianna seems to understand because she offers her friend a small smile, which reaches her eyes and tugs at Aquaria’s heart.

The silence closes in again, but it feels like they’re at least on the same page now, so it’s not quite as loud.

“So, you said you’d help me? With Blair?” Brianna’s voice cuts through the silence.

Blair. Of course. The subject of Brianna’s grief this last week. Aquaria’s best friend. Probably wondering where she is right now.

“She’s really been troubling you this much? I’ve never seen you slack so much in school.”

It’s an attempt at a joke, but it falls a little flat. The girls aren’t comfortable enough, not yet, to be joking. Not about this.

“Well, yeah, Blair, but just the issue of my sexuality, in general. It’s been messing with my head, a lot. I didn’t know who to talk to. Who would understand.”

That stings a little, because of course Aquaria would understand. Her own sexuality has been something she’s tried to come to grips with herself, for years now. Brianna would know that. If she hadn’t cut ties with her.

“I’m here now,” Aquaria says, and she means it. She wonders slightly why Brianna couldn’t turn to Monét, her usual source of comfort, or Asia, always willing to lend an ear to their griefs. But she doesn’t want to bring it up, not now. “So I guess you have a crush on my best friend, huh?”

Brianna blushes, a deep pink that Aquaria remembers from the days when her body started to go through changes and she was embarrassed to change in front of her, from when she had her first kiss and Aquaria spent a whole day trying to get her to tell her who it was with, from when people would make fun of her heavily populated family and lack of money and she would get flustered and angry, from when she received praise for her winning eighth grade science project. The blush is familiar to Aquaria, and it makes her smile.

“Yeah, I guess I just started noticing, I don’t know, the way she smiles and laughs. How her hair falls. Her dimples. I don’t know, all that shit.”

Aquaria stays silent. She sips her Coke, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden, searching for something to say in the swirling thoughts of her brain.

“Blair’s the most understanding and sweetest person ever. Just tell her how you feel. If she doesn’t feel the same, she’ll tell you straight up and won’t make it weird,” Aquaria says honestly, knowing Blair probably doesn’t feel the same way, and, even if she did, she would never do anything, not with Brianna, because she knows how Aquaria feels about her, if minuscule, and she’s well aware of their history. There, the order will be restored.

But, Brianna is pouting as she sips through her straw, her brows furrowed as she clearly thinks through what Aquaria has said.

“No,” she says finally, taking Aquaria by surprise.

“No?”

“I’m too much of a coward. Let’s do a scheme.”

A scheme. It’s been a hell of a long time since they did a scheme. They used to be pretty basic, but normally it was them trying to stay all alone in Aquaria’s house when her parents went away – either she told them she was staying at Brianna’s, who told her mom she was staying at Aquaria’s (which her mom never minded, she loved having one less mouth to feed), or, more difficult, Aquaria would have to ring up the hired babysitter and, pretending to be her mom, cancel them, and then they would spend the money on junk food. Aquaria’s personal favourite scheme was when they attempted to sneak one of Brianna’s kittens into her house to be her pet. It lasted all of a week, before her dad found out and went mental, but it had been so much fun.

A wave of nostalgia washes over Aquaria, who grins, wiggling her eyebrows. “What did you have in mind?”

They spend the rest of the day together, and it’s just like old times. Mainly, they lounge by the pool, reminiscing on the old adventures they used to share, whilst half-heartedly attempting to formulate a plan to have Blair fall madly in love with Brianna, though it doesn’t seem to be the first thing on either girls’ minds. It takes all of two seconds, and consists of a plan to throw a party at Aquaria’s tomorrow whilst her parents are still away, that being the sole detail.

You can see the sunset from Aquaria’s backyard. The house stands just far enough away from any others, and there’s a small hill in the distance that you can watch the daylight escape under, like a blanket of comfort, settling in for the night before another big day tomorrow. Aquaria often likes to watch it from her bedroom window, or, if she can be bothered she comes and sits outside, where the view is much better. It used to be the subject of many of her paintings and sketches as a kid, and she’s trying desperately to think of a way to include it in her portfolio, a chance to show who she is and where she’s from.

It’s beautiful tonight, the sky full of pink and orange hues, laced with light purples and soft reds. The girls watch in silence, each hypnotised by the beauty of the setting sun. Aquaria snaps a photo on her phone, knowing she’ll long to use the beauty of the colour scheme. It almost inspires her to want to draw; something about being with her old friend in a position they’ve been in many times, watching the beauty of the sunset makes her miss drawing and sketching for pleasure instead of having to work towards something, be it for her various art classes in school, or her ever-looming portfolio.

She glances across at Brianna, whose features are softened by the glow of the disappearing sun, her brown eyes tinted with light. Aquaria wants to draw her too, so she discreetly snaps a picture while the blonde is distracted, making the sure the shutter noise from her camera doesn’t go off, marvelling at the way the light has picked up on the wisps of her curls as they fall down her face and back, the pink in her cheeks and the warmth of her smile. Of course Aquaria can recognise beauty, she knows that all her friends are stunning, and she’s an artist after all, but there’s something about the way that Brianna’s face is illuminated that has Aquaria staring at her, for longer than she needs to. She would make a beautiful painting.

They order pizza, and eat it whilst watching Mean Girls, an old favourite of theirs. Blair of course enjoys the film, but she doesn’t laugh the way that Brianna does, or make jokes and comments at every given moment. They’re the same jokes that she always used to tell, but Aquaria still laughs like it’s the first time she’s heard them because, well, it may as well be.

When the movie ends, Brianna says that it’s getting late and she better get back to the madhouse, to gather her thoughts, and a drop dead gorgeous outfit for the party tomorrow. It’s bittersweet, because Aquaria would love nothing more than to have her stay the night, but she knows they can’t dive into the deep end with the way their friendship used to be straight away, it’s better to start in the shallow end, with a rubber ring, and work your way up. A lot of damage was done, but nothing that isn’t fixable.

Aquaria does offer, however, to paint Brianna’s face before the party tomorrow, promising to have her look good enough to eat. Brianna was always her guinea pig when she first started getting into makeup; there have been many a harsh, unblended smoky eye, smeared bright lipstick and thick slug eyebrows worn by the girl, but Aquaria likes to think you can’t start off a genius in anything, and, thanks to Brianna, her skills in makeup are a whole lot better now.

Brianna smiles warmly, says she’ll think about it, and hugs Aquaria before she leaves.

To be more precise.. this is how it should be seen.