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Leah isn’t usually one for parties but this one is being thrown by her girlfriend and god forbid she misses one of those so she’s currently mentally preparing to walk in on Cora’s arm and be pretty. Cora grips her hand and squeezes lightly, a light smile gracing her features.
She leans in and whispers in an almost not there voice, “It’s only a few hours, I promise.”
She always promises, she always apologizes, she always puts Leah in uncomfortable situations with no warning beforehand, she always talks about Jeff like it was Leah’s fault that she got groomed. Despite all this Leah loves her because if Cora doesn’t love her no one else will and more than anything, Leah fears being alone. Alone like she was before and after… Her. If Leah’s being honest she hasn’t felt safe or held or loved since Her. So how did they get ripped apart? A letter. Two letters actually, the words in which had sewn chaos and distrust. These letters had since been revealed to be forgeries but the seeds were planted and everything fell apart. A voice breaks through Leah’s wall of thought, “Sorry to fuck with your thinking time but we’ve got to go out there.”
“Of course, sorry.”
“It’s okay, we all fuck up sometimes.” The but you can’t stop fucking up is unsaid but communicated none the less. Leah steels herself and they walk into the party, looking for all the world like a perfect, Hollywood-worthy couple. It’s actually comforting to not be herself for a little bit, until Leah’s eyes lock with those brown ones and everything feels fucked up but also safer all at once.
***
Fatin isn’t one for parties, not anymore, but she’s been hoodwinked into this one by her boss. Her boss who is both fucking her and married (to a woman named Linda who, despite her rather bland name, does not deserve this at all). She’s supposed to be going as a shadow to see how the business mingle works but instead she’s at his side, like a date. She despises him, she despises everyone. She despises her mother who ripped her world apart with two letters, she despises the holidays that remind her of Her (which, to be honest, is every holiday), she despises the music that She listened to because it reminds Fatin of everything and it hurts so much. Mr. Cole (that’s his name, Derek Cole) pulls her gently to the side as they wait for the host to enter, her name is Cora Strickland and she owns too many money making corporations for it to be legal. That’s not the point, the point is, Ms. Strickland has insane amounts of money and Mr. Cole needs insane amounts of money so they’re here to beg. Fatin can beg, it’s all a facade and she’s good at those. Yes, Fatin can beg and begging is what she’s prepared to do until her eyes meet intense blue ones and the world falls away for a moment.
***
Her.
All that Leah can think is Fatin, it's like a chant, and then her brain is slammed by multiple things at once. The first is jealousy, Fatin is here with someone. (Are they in love? No, that smile is fake.) The second is the feeling of betrayal that had sunk deep into Leah’s brain when she read that letter for the first time because, real or not, that letter gave words to all of the horrible fears she had. The third and final thing is that they have to get somewhere quiet, safe, to talk. Both girls refuse to look away and are now holding eye contact while Cora is talking to important people. Leah is searching her wonderful, genius level brain for a way to get them alone when something comes shooting in from the past. The Code. Leah hopes against hope that Fatin still remembers their code well or else this won’t work in the least. Leah breaks the eye contact to look down at her feet and when she looks back up she sees Fatin looking down just barely. Leah taps her right foot three times lightly and tilts it towards a closed balcony she knows will be empty. She taps her left foot once, signaling that she’ll wait on the balcony for five minutes before she expects Fatin to follow. She waits for Fatin to nod before leaning over to whisper into Cora’s ear she says, “I need a break or I’ll probably throw up. I’ll be back in a bit.”
The look she sees in Cora’s eyes means that later there will be an argument and if she could right now Cora would yell something horrid and hurtful but she can’t so instead the answer has a sting to it, “Of course, Darling.” The tone makes Leah shiver, tonight would not be a good one, but she melts through the crowd of people and gently opens the door, slipping out onto the balcony.
***
Five minutes, Fatin can handle five minutes. She starts counting from the second Leah lets go of Cora’s arm. Derek’s voice is terribly monotonous. “You see, the workers are demanding more pay but I really don’t think….”
God this is boring. She isn’t paying enough attention to anything he’s saying to the other business people because she’s counting in her head.
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“-and this is my assistant, Fatin Jadmani.”
She plasters on a fake smile and shakes someone’s hand but she can hardly feel their hand in hers.
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“Ms. Jadmani, this is Anthony Cleaven. He works with human resources and is trying to find a way for us to raise the worker’s salaries.”
“Very nice to meet you Mr. Cleaven.”
It’s not nice to meet him at all, Anthony Cleaven has a reputation for finding publicly acceptable reasons to cut worker’s pay even lower than it already was. Fuck this, Thirty seconds too early isn’t going to kill anyone. Fatin pats Derek’s arm and smiles her very best “model mistress” smile before excusing herself for some air. Her heart is pounding insanely fast as she slips her way through the crowd, fast enough to the point where it’s dangerous. Apparently she’s hyperventilating too but she doesn’t notice until her vision gets fuzzy. Finding a table not far from the balcony doors she holds on to the edge with one hand to steady herself and takes deeper breaths. It only works for a few moments because the image of Leah’s eyes flashes through her line of vision and for a moment it makes her sad until she remembers that those eyes are waiting out on that balcony for her. One more deep breath and she forces herself to walk discreetly through the doors and out to the balcony. Leah is looking out over the the garden. The first time she tries to speak her voice gets caught in her throat and comes out as a kind of squeak. The second time she says, “Hey.”
***
Leah hears a squeak from her left, quickly followed by a soft, “Hey.”
She clears her throat and turns to face Fatin, “Hey.”
“You know how much I hate to be the rational one but we’re right in front of a set of glass windows so…” She trails off.
“Oh yeah, uhm,” Leah motions behind her, “there’s a corner without any transparent walls.”
If this were five years ago she would’ve grabbed Fatin’s hand, pressed her up against the wall and locked their lips but this isn’t five years ago, this is now and Leah has a girlfriend. Not that it would matter, if she thought that Fatin would respond well to getting shoved up against a wall and covered in kisses she would’ve done it in a second, girlfriend or not.
Contrary to popular belief, Fatin was often the one to instigate “talk-y feel-y times” as she called them. A desperate fear of becoming her father led even the smallest issues to get talked out right away. “So, why did you want to come out here?”
Right, yes, talking, “I just felt like catching up, it’s been a while.” I miss you, kiss me, love me again.
Fatin takes a breath, “Lee,” it’s amazing to Leah how they both slip back into the general safety that was “Leatin” (term coined by their best friends),”I miss you, a lot, and you need to know that I would never do anything like that letter, ever. Also, I know you have a girlfriend or whatever so feel free to shoot me down but I miss you so damn much.”
Leah sighs and turns away from Fatin to look at the garden again. She assumes now that the man Fatin came in with is a hookup. “I know you would never do anything like the letter, I’m very over that by now but it’s been five years, you don’t know me anymore.”
Fatin takes a step closer but doesn’t reach out yet, smart girl. “I still know you better than anyone else, I know about that suicidal goldfish, I know your family dog died last year but you probably have a new one, and I noticed that your eyeliner is a little bit messed up on the left side which means your hand was shaking so I’m guessing you didn’t take your meds today. C’mon Rilke, you know I don’t pay this much attention to anyone else.”
In the silence that follows Fatin steps up to the railing and looks out over the garden (they must look terribly peaceful from a distance) before Leah speaks, “I pay a lot of attention to you too but no matter how much attention we pay it won’t just fix everything.”
Neither of them look at each other, Leah because she knows she would immediately fall into Fatin’s arms, Fatin because she knows that Leah has to make this decision without falling into her arms (at least, not at first). “I know it won’t just fix everything, and I’m not saying it should, but I want to at least try. You can reject me right now and I’ll leave and never contact you again if you want but at least give me a chance. We could be happy, Leah.”
Leah is contemplating and there’s silence for a minute or two. Fatin is totally prepared for rejection at this point but is pleasantly surprised when Leah reaches out and takes her hand. “I’m scared, really scared, of you hurting me but I’ve realized that I’d be miserable for the rest of my life if I don’t at least try so…. here we go.” This hand hold is probably the most intimate thing either of them have experienced in, well, five years. As the gardener, shrouded in darkness as she waters one of the bushes, looks up at them she can somehow tell that, despite all of the pain she could hear in their voices, they would work through it.