Written for the prompt(s): Summer falls.
|Word count: Approx. 1,000
Notes/Warnings: Implied underage sexual activity.
“I feel like I’m forgetting something, Lex. . . .”
I lifted the last of Amy’s clothes in an anonymous Hefty trash bag and shoved it into the backseat of my ancient Buick. The trunk was already full. The backseat was getting there.
“Babe. . . .” Amy whined, and I gave the bag a last punch-shove, and sighed. When I turned to face her she was standing in the middle of the shadowed driveway, arms crossed and near tears from the look of her.
I wiped my arm across my brow and went to her, stopping about a foot away, unsure of how welcome I’d be. It was at least half my fault that she was in the situation she was in.
“You brought everything but the kitchen sink, baby. Your room is empty. Trust me: you’re not leaving anything behind,” I said quietly then snorted thinking of the way her dad had grimly inspected her room after we’d finished packing. “Your folks made sure of that.”
As soon as I said it, I knew I shouldn’t have. Knew it’d only remind her of the reason why all her shit was in my car to begin with.
Tears fell and ran down Amy’s face and she sniffled, glancing back at her childhood home. A childhood that’d ended abruptly when her parents caught us together in her room three nights ago.
It’d taken them about a day to finally tell her to leave. Then they gave her two days to get her stuff together and find someplace else to live.
It was Christian of them, I suppose.
I pulled Amy into my arms and rocked her while she cried. As I did, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye: a curtain on the second floor of the house she used to live in twitched closed. Someone in there had been keeping an eye on us.
Good. Let them see the consequences of what they’ve done. Let them watch their eldest daughter, their pride and joy, cry her heart out because they were bigoted fuck-sticks.
“It’ll be okay, I promise,” I murmured in her hair. It was fluffy and soft and smelled of coconut. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
“B-but how do you know?” Amy sobbed, clutching me tight. “I’ve never lived on my own before! Never been away from my family for more than a week! I haven’t even finished high school!”
“No, but you will. And you won’t be living on your own, Ames. You’ll be living with me.” The idea was kind of scary. I hadn’t lived with anyone since I left home at fifteen, two years younger than Amy was when her folks threw her out. At twenty-two, I still felt like a kid, myself. Amy was the first girl I’d been with for longer than a month or two, and here we were, about to live together. I was scared . . . but excited. And I felt extremely protective of Amy. As if someone or something had placed something precious and fragile in my care. “I’ll look after you. I swear.”
Sniffling again, Amy looked up at me. “I miss them already. And even though they don’t want me anymore . . . I still love them. So much, it hurts.”
The devastated look on her face hurt my heart and I kissed her forehead. “You always will. They’re your family. And they love you, too, even though they have a shit way of showing it.”
“I feel like I’m all alone in the world. . . .” Amy hung her head and wiped her eyes. “Like I don’t belong to anyone.”
“You’re not alone. You have me. I’ll be your family. We’ll belong to each other,” I said, trying to keep my voice firm and sure. For the most part, it was. “I love you.”
Amy’s wet, dark eyes widened. “You—love me? For real?”
I looked away from her, blushing so hard she had to see it, even though it was so dark out. “Well, yeah. You’re my girl.”
Amy smiled. Small, but a real smile. “But we’ve only been . . . you know . . . for five months.”
I grinned. “That’s practically forever in lesbian relationships. Technically, we should already be moved in together, have a few cats, and be looking into adoption or artificial insemination.”
That was worth a giggle, and I brushed away Amy’s tears. A few more fell to replace them. Then she was sobbing again, soft and heart-broken.
“Listen, kiddo, it’s not gonna be easy living together. Not at first. In a new town, no family or friends to support us. But we’ll make a go of it,” I promised, hugging her tight. “This town . . . there’s nothing here for us. It doesn’t want us. It’s time to go.”
Amy sighed. “To Portland . . . it’s so far away, Lex. . . .”
“But I’ve got a job waiting for me there, and possibly a place. All I needed was my best girl to come with me.” I leaned back to chuck Amy’s chin and she rolled her eyes and laughed.
“I guess it was providence that if my folks had to kick me out, they did it before you left town.”
“Ah, I’d have come back to get you in a heartbeat,” I whispered, running my finger down her cheek. “I’d never leave my girl on her own.”
Amy sighed again and bounced up on her toes to kiss me tenderly. As always, and even under these circumstances, there were fireworks.
We kissed there in her parents’ driveway till the security lights came on, bright and sudden, startling us apart. I snorted again.
“Guess that’s our cue to make like a tree and skedaddle.”
Amy nodded, taking a deep, shaking breath and one last look at the house. “I guess I’m as ready to go as I’ll ever be.”
“Good.” Taking her hand, I led her to the passenger side of the Buick and handed her in. “I’m ready, too. Ready to get the hell out of Summer Falls.”