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Gideon waits at the bottom of the hill. At temple and even study, she’s the most popular person there, even more so than Harrow. Some people try to flirt with her, everyone knows she’s into women and apparently, that makes her fresh meat for every gay girl, but she never flirts back. Apparently, people think she’s cool and mysterious now so people flirt more but she doesn’t care. It definitely doesn’t bother her but she would never flirt back, not if she know what’s good for her.
They don’t know that every other Friday, Gideon waits at the hill for the girl to scurry out of her house. Then, they walk around, talking about nothing and no one in particular.
Today, officially marking a month and a half since they started doing this, Gideon looks down at Harrow with a frown. “What are we, Harrow?” Gideon asks a few minutes into the conversation, unable to keep it to her chest.
“We’re us,” she says and Gideon wonders if she’s being purposefully obtuse. She doesn’t know when she started using words like obtuse but it pisses her off. “I don’t know,” she says after a second before continuing, “I just want to be… something. And I’m something with you.”
“You’re always something, Harrow,” Gideon says, wondering if Harrow knows she’s the smartest person Gideon has ever met. She’s the worst and the best and just every extreme wrapped into one rat like bow.
“Can we not talk like this?” Harrow asks and despite how desperate Gideon is to discuss it, she nods.
“Wanna hear how I got into trouble with the Great-Aunts?”
“Sure,” Harrow says, moving to grasp Gideon’s hand with her own.
Gideon doesn’t know if she loves it or hates it more. She doesn’t know if it even matters.