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It was always just a girls’ night. A friendly sleepover – a platonic get-together, even. We’ll just hang out and talk, Mom, it’s all casual , was probably the most frequently-told white lie in the Noel household, at least during Chris’ senior year.
Inconspicuousness was easy to maintain this way. Chris’ mother never really minded – I’m glad you’re not with the Overstreet boy anymore, it’s good for you to have a friend who cares about you – but she never knew what Ginny was to Chris, how she was more than just an attentive friend. Chris kept this a secret only because she was afraid of the harsh, choice words her mother would let slip if she ever saw her daughter in a different way; and so it went, and Ginny would come over nearly every weekend under this innocent guise.
Chris’ house had a cozy basement, much to the advantage of herself and Ginny, with blankets, games, and a fireplace with a small hearth. After preparing two drinks of their choice – Ginny always had chamomile tea, while Chris usually chose hot chocolate –, they would race down the stairs, slamming the door behind them, and make sure the lace curtains adorning the tiny windows up top were pulled shut before making use of the space. They’d build a nest on the floor and pick a game of their choice from the wooden shelf tucked away in the corner. Twister was a favorite, and, unbeknownst to Mrs. Noel in the upstairs parlor, this choice often foretold an outcome of the game being abandoned as Ginny and Chris found themselves in close proximity, their limbs tangled and their lips meeting one another. Other times, the girls would play Scrabble, with Ginny always winning by a margin, and afterwards they’d curl up on the plush couch, refusing to leave even an inch of space between their bodies.
Chris, as soft-spoken as she was, never missed an opportunity to tell Ginny how beautiful she was as they lay snug against each other. When their breathing became heavier and their kisses more desperate, Chris would murmur words of praise into the pale curve of Ginny’s neck, leaving behind plum-colored marks like reminders of every night spent together. In turn, Ginny loved to rest her head atop Chris’, to take her lover’s hands within hers and admire how their fingers fit together so perfectly. And really, everything about the girls’ unique love languages complimented each other; Ginny, being a poet at heart, couldn’t help but compare every shared gesture to a line from a sonnet.
Late at night, the pair would fall asleep together in Chris’ bed, tucked under the warm covers, holding each other close. When they awoke, a homemade breakfast always awaited them. Ginny would take Chris’ hand and lead her downstairs, both of them stifling laughter as Mrs. Noel appeared in front of them. What’s so funny? , she’d ask, while Chris responded with Nothing, Mom, just an inside joke . Maybe it wasn’t so far off from the truth. Ginny and Chris couldn’t help but smile through their glasses of fruit juice, and gently nudge each other under the table, as if remembering some intimate secret between themselves, which was exactly what had been happening.
When Ginny left, sharp at noon, to walk back to her own house, it was always Bye, see you after school , to her girlfriend. Sometimes, Chris ran after Ginny to give her a peck on the cheek, and Ginny would slip a small note of affection into Chris’ hands, quoting some bit of literature. Other times, when Mrs. Noel had stepped out of view of the front door, Ginny and Chris shared a lingering kiss, saying their goodbyes as romantically as they wanted before parting for the day.
And so it went nearly every week without fail. Everything was pleasurable and perfect when Ginny and Chris could spend nights together, alone, and pretend that the outside world was not so cruel to their love. Neither girl expressed their worries about leaving for college at the end of the year, or how their relationship would inevitably be questioned as they grew to be adults without husbands; no, Chris and Ginny savored every moment they could, and the only thing that went unspoken between the two of them was the instability of the future. For now, their relationship was peaceful, and nothing could stop them from looking forward to Saturday nights and seeing each other.