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They had met at the official Higgs Year 7 camp when they were 12. Darcy was wearing their tie-dye hoodie as always, a blend of pinks, blues and oranges splattered on the jumper, hands firmly tucked within the pockets. Blonde locks are tucked firmly under the hood, sheltering their face from the freezing cold British winter. They don't know why they decided to hold the camp in winter, but they did and Darcy hates them for it.
Hands covered by soft woolen mittens gave extra warmth to their freezing fingers. They were bumped slightly on the shoulder and Darcy turned to face the stranger. The girl wore a bright pink winter coat, with faux fur covering the edges of the hood. Her curly hair was tied into two ponytails, framing her face perfectly. Darcy was left speechless by the beauty the girl held, and the anger they held at being slightly knocked around left their body.
“I am so so sorry,” The girl apologises, patting Darcy in the places where they were knocked. “Are you hurt? I’m Tara by the way.”
“Tara,” Darcy admires, their voice is still.
Tara giggles. “That’s me.”
“I’m Darcy!”
“I love that! It’s such a nice name.”
“Thanks,” Darcy blushes. “I like your coat.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“And I like your shoes,” Darcy mutters looking down at their own feet before looking at Tara’s clothed feet.
The Dr Martens with vibrant blue laces that Tara wears are covered with mud at the bottom, splotches splattering against the ankles.
“Yeah, well,” Tara stutters at the compliment. “I like your hoodie.”
Darcy smirks. “Do you now?”
“Stop teasing, Darcy!”
Darcy is almost sure that that was the moment that they fell in love with Tara.
—
They quickly became best friends, attached at the hip, as one would say. They hanged out every day at the camp, and coincidentally were placed in the same cabin, in the same bunk. They stayed up later than was reasonable talking about their lives, closing their eyes when a teacher would come in to tell them to “be quiet, go back to sleep”, and giggles would flutter in the air once the teacher would leave.
Tara would wake up with Darcy blowing raspberries in her face, and Darcy smiles at the pillow fight that ensues afterwards, with Tara’s thick purple pillows being used as weapons against Darcy’s pathetic blanket thin cushions.
Darcy would always say that they were the winner, but they knew for sure that Tara could beat them in a pillow fight any day with little effort.
That brought a smile to their face.
—
It was Year eight when Darcy came out.
“Tara, you know how we’re best friends,” Darcy brought up one day. They were laying on Tara’s bedroom floors, catching up on homework they didn’t really want to do.
“Yeah, Darc,” Tara frowned. “Is everything okay?”
“I need to tell you something. And you have to promise me that you won’t get upset, nor will you tell anyone,” Tara nodded. “I’m a lesbian.”
“Oh,” Tara whispered.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, oh.”
“Is it a good ‘oh’ ?”
“Yeah,” Tara smiled. “Yeah it is.”
Darcy launches themself into Tara’s arms, hugging the other tight, not wanting to let go. Tears slide down their face, and Tara can feel the drips slide into her t-shirt and onto her skin.
“It’s okay,” Tara hushes, rocking Darcy back in forth within the hug. “It’s okay. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Darcy sobs.
—
It was a few weeks later than Darcy stopped trying to hide their identity, lesbian pride flag hung up in the door of their locker. They didn’t try to hide their identity, but Darcy didn’t announce it to the whole school.
“Hello Higgs! I am here to announce that I am a lesbian.”
The thought of it made Darcy shudder in their coat. They told all of their friends that mattered to them, and who they knew wouldn’t be homophobic. Acceptance was easy for Darcy, but for Tara, it was way harder.
It didn’t happen on purpose, but they both managed to get locked in a small instrument practice room during band. They were there for hours, not like they could have gotten out of it anyway. They talked.
“I think I don’t like boys,” Tara whispered to Darcy.
“You’re gay?” Darcy wondered.
“No,” Tara flustered over the thoughts. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I like girls. Or if I like anyone that isn’t a boy.”
Darcy’s hand shuffled over to Tara’s holding it over their own. Sparks flew off the touch, and a warm feeling bubbled in both of their stomachs.
“What brought this on?” Darcy asked.
“I-,” Tara stuttered. “I think I like you. But in a not friend way.”
Darcy’s face holds a look of confusion so Tara continues.
“When you came out to me, I was so happy because it finally felt like I had this close friend who really trusted and loved me. But maybe it was something more? Maybe I felt like inside I finally had a chance with someone who could like – no love – me back, in a more than platonic way. I didn’t think that I would get that or if I could even be that, but you are just you so effortlessly, and I love that so much about you. I just want to be close to you. I want to spend every day with you.”
Darcy’s mouth drops wide open, and they can’t help but blush.
“Can I kiss you?” Darcy blurts out, and Tara quickly nods.
It’s soft, and it’s not like either of them expected their first kiss to be like. Tara’s soft lips meld easily against Darcy’s, connecting perfectly, and finding immaculate synchronisation between the two of them. It felt like little hearts were coming out of their head, floating around them like butterflies.
They break apart, and the smiles on their faces say more than the soundless words do. Tara reaches behind Darcy’s neck with her hands, embracing the other in a hug.
“I like you.”
“I like you too.”