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It was the safe choice.
The coffee shop was equal distance for both of them, wasn't busy, and it was a public setting that didn't include alcohol. Because alcohol led to not talking at all.
Kaitlyn checked her phone again. She had arrived five minutes early, and fully expected Emma to arrive ten to fifteen minutes late for the sake of fashionable lateness. She was too anxious to scroll through her social media or really do anything but fidget with her bracelets and glance back and forth between the windows at the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of blonde.
In the end it was Jake the one who convinced Kaitlyn to come. Fitting, in a way, that it would be the only other person who knew what it was like to have their feelings trampled by her. Kaitlyn had half expected him to try and coax her into forgiveness, but he surprised her. Screw forgive and forget. Say what you want to say. That had given her a sense of boldness that she had been lacking lately.
The bell next to little coffee shop's door rang, announcing a new customer, and she looked up with a knot in her stomach. Emma's hair was up, and she wore a white top. For once, she looked as doubtful and conflicted as Kaitlyn felt.
She sipped her americano as she approached.
''Hey.''
''Hey.''
*
As with most things in their friend group, it seemed, it started with Truth vs Dare.
Kissing someone was kind of a cope-out dare, at this point. Their love web had gotten more and more intricate as time went on, between the established couples, the ones who didn't date but did make out, and the ones who'd had some sort of unrequited crush (such the crush Emma had had for Abi that she had been dared to admit to earlier) . So what did a kiss even mean, anyway?
It could mean a lot, as it turned out.
Kaitlyn didn't say anything that night, nothing that really mattered. She cracked a joke that made everyone laugh and smacked her lips, feeling the sticky residue of Emma's lipgloss. Kaitlyn was not a lipgloss kind of girl. She was barely a nude lipstick kind of girl.
Emma smirked, and shot her a wink.
*
They didn't leave it alone, but it took another month of loaded looks and subtle flirting for them to finally meet again. A movie marathon at Emma and Abi's place; Heathers, Jawbreaker, Mean Girls. The trifecta of mean girl films. Laura left in a rush after Heathers, because Max called with the news that one of their dogs had vomited for the third time that day. Abi passed out halfway through Mean Girls, and soon enough the Plastics are forgotten.
In the morning, she woke up early enough that Abi would think she spent the night on the couch. They're good at this, at being cool. Abi read them Laura's text updates on the dog and was none the wiser.
Abi spent half her time in the apartment and half her time at Nick's dorm, and that gave Kaitlyn and Emma plenty of time to sneak around after classes and before work. A drawer in the dresser was set aside just for Kaitlyn, spare underwear and socks, a phone charger, the rogue toy or two. She took over the dresser and the left side of the bed, where she'd work on her assignments while Emma worked on her videos.
Finally, Abi came home one night to find them waiting for dinner to be done— Emma against the counter, Kaitlyn pinning her there, mid-flirtatious banter. Abi blushed scarlet, and if Emma felt embarrassed, she hid it well. Kaitlyn made her a plate and said nothing about what their friend had just seen, and Emma asked about her day.
Later, ''So, um, are you guys like a thing now?''
''We're two gals having fun'', Emma declared, and Kaitlyn nodded through her sip of water.
''Yeah, it's just casual.''
*
For a while, it was just fine.
Their little fling was kept underwraps for all but Abi, Nick, Dylan and Ryan– their roomates and respective partners. Nothing ever seemed out of the ordinary at group outings, as far as anyone was concerned, and at first Kaitlyn liked that, the adrenaline rush of secrecy.
It slowly wore off like perfume. Kaitlyn cracked and told Jacob, who didn't speak to her for a week. When he did, he simply told her to be careful. Kaitlyn laughed it off. ''It's just a fling. I think I can handle it.''
''I know you think that'', he said. ''But she's got a way of sneaking up on you.''
Slowly, it happened, and when she finally realized it was hard to pinpoint when it started. When it started to feel odd to wake up in her own bed, without the floral scent of Emma's bodywash imprinted into the bedsheets. When Emma began leaving snacks and little notes in the drawer when Kaitlyn had a busy day ahead. When she started to do things like send pictures of herself hugging her pillow at night, miss you. When they started to feel that blissful feeling as they laid together in bed, and Emma played with her hair.
When Kaitlyn passed Mathematics II, the first person she wanted to tell was her. She swallowed the impulse and the weight of it, and dutifully called her parents first.
*
Mr. and Mrs. Mountebank were exactly what Kaitlyn had imagined them to be. Polished New England upper class, all too obliging to their only daughter, and too nice. Mrs. Mountebank —please, call me Celine— hugged Kaitlyn, which seemed like a lot for someone she was just meeting for the first time.
They invited her out to Olive Garden, and Kaitlyn, who was only dropping by to retrieve some of her clothes she needed, couldn't excuse her way out of it.
The Mountebanks weren't just nice, they were ecstatic to get to know her. Over breadsticks and appetizers, they asked about her major, her grades, if she works part time, her family. Her summer plans. ''You know, we have a summer house in the Catskills'', said Mr. Mountebank carefully. ''We'd love for you to come stay with us.''
Emma smiled too wide at that, but Kaitlyn had had enough of the Catskills for the rest of her life. But she wasn't about to tell Mr. Mountebank about her nightmares and her PTSD, and she wasn't about to tell him about how that invitation felt loaded. Like a special gift that you don't feel deserving of.
She smiled and said something non-committal, and made it all the way through to the end of the meal despite the increasing desire to run away. Emma touched her thigh under the table, perhaps sensing the change, and Kaitlyn grabbed her hand and moved it back to her own chair.
*
The Mountebanks dropped them off at Emma's apartment and left for their hotel. At the apartment, Kaitlyn made a beeline for Emma's bedroom. Emma followed.
''Are you okay? You were sulking all dinner.''
Kaitlyn placed her backpack on the bed, and looked at the ceiling. Had she really not noticed? ''Your parents think we're dating.''
Emma froze. Kaitlyn had never seen her like that before. When she spoke, she sounded somewhat panicked. ''No, they don't.''
''Yes, Emma, they do.'' She opened the drawer and began taking out her belongings. Then, lower, vindictive: ''Everyone considers this a relationship except you.''
''What does that even mean?'' She didn't reply. ''Kaitlyn.''
''Oh, come on. You leave me notes and snacks, and little surprises, I sleep here every other night, Jesus Christ– we went to the fucking movies with Nick and Abi last week, we held hands at the movies! What part of that says no strings attached?''
She shoved her things into her backpack with no regard for them. Her charger fell off the comforter, and before she could bend down and retrieve it, Emma was there next to her with the charger in hand.
''Hey, friends hold hands! I used to hold hands with Abi all the time.'' Kaitlyn smiled bitterly, took back the charger, her reply locked and loaded.
''Has your Dad ever invited Abi to your beach house?''
It took Emma a second to try to reply, and that's all Kaitlyn needed. ''Kaitlyn–''
''Don't.'' She pulled the backpack zipper closed, and hoisted the strap over her shoulder. ''Your parents see it, our friends see it, if you want to stay in denial, suit yourself. I tried to be chill about this, but I can't.''
Emma followed her out of the bedroom and into the living room. ''You're not being fair. We agreed it was a casual thing. We agreed!''
''We stopped being casual a long time ago and you know it.'' She went to open the door, but stopped with her hand on the doorknob. She looked back at Emma, who had her lips pulled tight together, looking sorrowful. It almost was enough for Kaitlyn to turn back. ''And you know what, it's my fault for not saying something sooner.''