Chapter Text
Well, I’ve been there, sitting in that same chair
Whispering the same prayer half a million times
It’s a lie though, buried in disciples
One page of the bible isnt worth a life
Wrabel - The Village
Beatrice knows how to control her feelings, and how to contain them. She’s always careful not to slip up, especially when it comes to romance. She understands the concept from movies and TV shows, and the way couples at school seem to act love struck constantly.
But Beatrice? She always falters when it comes to romance. Her feelings stay tucked within, hidden from the world. Especially because she loves differently than what her parents want. All the movies show a boy and girl. The first kiss, the swooning, and a part of her was sad watching it unfold. Because she fears she’ll never experience it, at least not the way it’s portrayed.
She ponders the thought as she sits at her desk in her room with The Notebook playing on her laptop. Was kissing in the rain really that romantic?
She thinks it’s stupid. Why would you want to be soaking wet, clothes clinging to you and probably freezing cold when you’re kissing someone?
She shakes her head, and then remembers a small box tucked neatly in one of her desk drawers. She pulls it out and places it carefully in front of her. It’s a small rectangular red box. She opens it and breathes a slow, steady breath at the contents.
Three letters.
Three letters to three people that she had some type of crush on. Most lasted less than a month, but being gay in a house where it’s seen as bad, her only outlet was to write about it.
She glances at the first letter in the pile.
Camila.
Otherwise known as her best friend. This was written a few years back, when she and Camila were still in middle school. Grade 7 to be exact. She wouldn’t dare tell her about her crush, in fear of ruining their friendship; even though it was a stupid middle school crush.
Camila was nice to her, and would offer her cookies during lunch. They hit it off almost immediately. She smiles fondly at the memory, grateful to be blessed with such a wonderful friend.
She lifts that letter up to reveal another.
Lilith.
She shakes her head a little at this one. This one lasted two weeks tops.
In grade 9 the two had PE together, and Lilith was always a little snarky. But she would constantly make side comments at Beatrice, complimenting her athletic ability, and being seemingly impressed on most days. It caused Beatrice to blush, until it didn’t. She doesn’t know when it stopped exactly, but it seemed Lilith was onto making other friends. And that quickly released whatever infatuation Beatrice had with her.
But that’s all these letters were; a written form of her infatuation. A way to release it in a poetic form. She enjoys writing, it helps her escape when she needs it.
She picks that letter up and it reveals the last letter. One she never expected to write.
Ava Silva.
She blushes slightly at the sight of it, but quickly regains herself. There wasn’t much to say, because Ava is the complete opposite of what she would potentially ever want in someone. She’s reckless, selfish, and not to mention, extremely straight. She’s dating JC, the captain of the football team and they’ve been together since the ninth grade, which is when Beatrice met Ava.
The two weren’t exactly friends, but they weren’t hostile towards each other. There was just something about Ava that annoyed the hell out of Beatrice. She seems to be the type to not care about her studies, but gets good grades without trying. She’s also popular, and a track star.
Beatrice is quieter, keeps more to herself, and studies extremely hard. She competes in Math Competitions for her school, tutors students in calculus, and runs Cross Country. She doesn’t care for track, but cross country is always fun for her. Running gives her a chance to clear her head, and the sport allows you to run through nature which always makes her happy.
She runs her thumb over the letter. She wrote it after a party last year, one that she was forced to by Camila, who wanted to impress someone but wouldn’t even tell Beatrice who she was trying to impress.
Beatrice doesn’t drink, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever try. Having no control over yourself seems terrifying.
So she spent most of the party outside on the back porch by herself, water in hand. That’s when Ava had appeared, coming from the loud and sweaty, teen hormone infused home.
Beatrice watched her carefully, and Ava hadn’t even noticed she was there for so long. But Beatrice noticed immediately that Ava was upset. She was clutching a beer in her hand, and was taking deep breaths.
It was the first time she saw Ava not being so…perfect. Not smiling and laughing constantly, impressing everyone around her. Something about it struck Beatrice.
And when Ava finally noticed her, not many words were exchanged. But she remembers one thing she said before she went back into the house, one little thing that struck her.
“Don’t ever let these people change you. By the way, you look really pretty in that.”
She was probably just drunk and speaking nonsense, but Beatrice held onto those words. It made her heart beat weird in her chest, and for a while she found herself eyeing Ava whenever she could. She was never caught.
But she slowly stopped paying attention, at least that’s what she told herself. Her annoyance for Ava was still there, and her opinion about her was not changed. It was a random coincidence that her heart skipped a beat that night at the party. They never talked again after that.
She places the letters neatly back in the box and pushes it to the back of her desk. She shuts her laptop off and gets ready for bed.
Tomorrow is the start of senior year, and she is determined to make it a good one.