
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13482915.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      The_Fall_(TV_2013)
  Relationship:
      Stella_Gibson/Original_Female_Character(s)
  Character:
      Stella_Gibson
  Additional Tags:
      the_stella_gibson_backstory_no_one_asked_for, Implied/Referenced_Self-
      Harm, Implied/Referenced_Rape/Non-con
  Series:
      Part 2 of The_Rise_of_Stella_Gibson
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-01-26 Completed: 2018-02-07 Chapters: 25/25 Words: 22706
****** The Rise of Stella Gibson: Part 2 ******
by SmokeMonsterSyd
Summary
     The second part of The Rise of Stella Gibson series. This part takes
     Stella through her time at boarding school, where she meets someone
     who influence her character.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stella could never tell whether flying was enjoyable. Some days it was fun, and
other days she just couldn’t stand the idea of being trapped in a small space
for so long. Today seems to be the latter.
 
She bites at her nail as she flips the page in her book, seeing the words but
not really comprehending them. The cuts on her legs are starting to itch, and
her legs twitch as her skin crawls. It’s a miracle her neighbor hasn’t reported
her to the flight attendant for using some sort of drug. She reads on, gently
patting her thighs, hoping that will relieve the pain, but finds herself
rereading the same line over and over again instead. She finally closes her
book with a thump and places it back in her carry-on, deciding that there was
no point in pretending anymore, especially when all she can think about is the
fact that she is now completely alone. But, she’s fine. She’s okay.
 
When the plane touches down, she makes her way out to the baggage claim and
looks around. The exit doors are nearby, giving her a great view of the street
full of cars and people. There are couples hugging and kissing, friends
laughing together, families with matching luggage making their way to their
cars. Stella swallows a lump in her throat, and trains her eyes back on the
conveyor belt, waiting for her bags to appear.
 
After collecting her things, she finds a luggage cart and wheels them outside,
finding the taxi stand outside by the door.
 
“Excuse me,” she says, politely.
 
“How can I help you, Miss?”
 
“I would like a cab, please.”
 
“Right away, miss,” he says and picks up his phone at his desk. After a few
seconds he tells her that a few are already on their way, and they should be
here any minute. She thanks the man and turns away, staring off into the
distance as she contemplates her life.
 
He’s only been dead two and a half weeks, and so many things have changed. Her
entire life has been turned so far upside down that she might as well be in
another universe. Is this even real? She’s finding it hard to tell. This
dissociation is numbing her body, and making her think destructive and
spontaneous thoughts, but at least that’s better than the self-loathing.
She gently scratches at her thighs, almost as if the flesh is calling for her
to finish her work.
A cab pulls up, and the driver quickly jumps out of the car, opening the back
and helping Stella set her things inside.
 
“Where to, miss?”
 
“Harrogate.”
Chapter End Notes
     Hi! okay, i know this part is going to look weird compared to the
     first part of this story. when i originally posted the first part on
     tumblr, i separated it into sections, and posted each section
     individually. For this part, the whole thing is super long, so i
     figured it would be easier to break it up into chapters. Some
     chapters/sections are longer than others. I hope you keep reading
     though! Thank you!!
***** Chapter 2 *****
Jace Praise Academy, at it’s finest point in years, had announced two years ago
that girls would be allowed at their school. Upon hearing this information,
Stella is positive her mother has been sitting on this idea for months, but
knew she wouldn’t be able to force Stella into it while her father was still
around.
 
Well, good, you got what you wanted, Mother , she thinks bitterly, as she pays
her cabbie, and lugs her things up the front steps. The building is not as
grand as she expected, but is still big enough to block out the sun at two
o’clock in the afternoon, standing two stories tall and made with brick. She
looks up briefly as she passes through the doors into the main foyer, noticing
the crest just above the doorway. She clears her throat, lifts her chin, and
stalks her way up to the front desk where a small woman is writing in a book.
 
“Hello,” Stella greets, politely.
 
The woman looks up, slightly startled at first, then a beautifully excited
smile lights up her face.
 
“You must be Stella Gibson,” she says, standing up and coming around from
behind her desk, “Oh, that looks heavy. Let me find someone to help you.”
 
As the woman looks around the room for help, Stella opens her mouth to protest.
 
“Oh, no, really, It’s not--”
 
“Jack!! Come here, we need your arms for a moment,” she shouts.
 
A tall, muscular boy of about 16 looks around the room, startled, before
briskly walking towards his caller.
 
“What do you need, Miss Jen?” he says. Stella notices that he avoids looking at
her. She holds back a small smirk as she looks him up and down. His pants seem
to be a bit too tight, she can almost make out his thigh muscles, and his hair
is dark brown to the point of almost being black. His face is angular at the
chin, but the apples of his cheeks are plump and covered in freckles.
 
“This is a new student, Stella,” Miss Jen says, smiling at Stella briefly, “Can
you help us take her things to her room?”
 
He nods silently, and holds out his arms in Stella’s direction, before finally
meeting her eyes. His blue green eyes are the most beautiful color she thinks
she’s ever seen. She gives him a smile and hands him two of her smaller bags as
Miss Jen turns on her heel.
 
“Right this way, please.”
 
They make their way towards the stairs, the teens falling behind Miss Jen as
she nearly sprints her way there.
 
“Stella, you will be staying in room 216. Please let me know if you don’t have
bedding or anything like that, I can have one of the older students take you
out to get something,” she says, her voice jiggling as she makes her way up
each stair. To Stella’s left, Jack is accidentally jostled by another student
going down the stairs, almost dropping one of her bags.
 
“That would be wonderful, thank you,” she says, catching the bottom of her bag
for Jack.
 
“The last thing we would want is for you to not feel comfortable,” Miss Jen
says over her shoulder.
 
Stella simply nods, and Jack sighs with relief as they come upon the final
landing and take the next corner.
 
They walk a few steps down a corridor before Miss Jen comes to a stop in front
of a door with one small label on it that reads “Charlotte”. Stella notices
that other doors are decorated with colorful pieces of paper, messages,
pictures, but this one just says “Charlotte”. Jack shifts awkwardly as Miss Jen
knocks on the door. She waits for a few seconds before slipping her key in the
door and unlocking it.
 
“This is your room, dear. I assume Charlotte is still in her classes, but
you’ll meet her soon enough.”
 
Stella nods silently looking around the room as she places her bag on the
floor. While the door may be bare, the room looks like she’s just stepped off a
time machine and right into the heart of the seventies. There is a giant tie-
dyed tapestry on the wall above the two beds, with peace signs, hearts, and
music notes all over it. There are multicolored lights around the top border of
the room, changing the white walls into a disco hall. One bed has a yellow
duvet on it with a peace sign and many pillows piled on top of each other. The
bed looks sloppily made, as if the girl was in a hurry but figured she should
do it anyway. The other bed is bare and pitiful, begging for someone to give it
a makeover. And to tie the whole look together, there is a purple shag rug in
the center of the room, and clothes all over it. Stella wonders why someone so
messy would even bother to take the time to make her bed, even if the job was
sub-par.
 
“Jack, stop dilly-dallying and get in here with the rest of Stella’s things.”
 
Stella turns to look back at the door where Jack stands nervously,
contemplating whether he should come in or drop her things and run to the
nearest hospital for his cootie shot. Stella raises an eyebrow in his direction
and he makes his decision, stepping gingerly into the room and standing next to
Stella. He sets the bags down next to her other two, and straightens out his
back.
 
“Thank you,” Stella says, with a small smile.
 
“My pleasure,” he says, returning her smile and leaving the room.
 
“Farewell, Jack!” Miss Jen yells after him before turning to Stella again.
 
“Here is your key, try not to lose it, it might be awhile before you get
another one if you do. Lights out is at 2230 hours. Breakfast starts at 0700,
lunch at 1200 hours, and supper at 1700 hours. And this is your class
schedule.”
 
She hands Stella a thick stack of papers with a schedule on the top, and gently
taps the top.
Stella squints.
 
“What are the rest of these papers?” she says, perplexed.
 
“There are some assignments, school rules, supply lists, and a few more forms
to fill out. All the due dates are at the top of each one. Any more questions,
or concerns?” she asks, and smiles.
 
Stella waits a few seconds and lets all the information sink in, opening her
mouth and then closing it immediately.
 
“No, I think I’m alright.”
 
“If you have any final concerns, I’m sure Charlotte will be more than happy to
help you,” she finishes, patting Stella on the shoulder. Stella nods, slipping
her key into the back pocket of her pants and gently placing the papers on the
empty desk. Miss Jen waves as she leaves, and closes the door behind her.
 
Stella turns and stares down at her bags sitting innocently on the floor, and
gives one a gentle kick. She looks at the stack of papers on her desk and
swallows a lump quickly rising in her throat. She wonders if she could have
ever predicted that her life would have gone so wrong, landing her here, in
this stress pit of a situation, surrounded by strangers. She unzips one
suitcase and pulls out her toiletry bag, placing it on desk with the stack of
papers. She stares at the bag, biting her thumbnail in contemplation. Will she
have time to clean the blood, or should she just wait until she takes a shower
tonight?
 
She turns towards her other bags and starts unpacking.
***** Chapter 3 *****
The door opens with a bang, startling Stella out of her impromptu nap. She
holds the open book on her chest against her breast as she sits up and leans
back against the wall. A girl walks into the room, angrily pulling her shirt
over her head and muttering to herself in italian. Her long, black hair tumbles
down her back between her muscular shoulder blades as she pulls her shirt off,
her olive-toned skin standing out against the paleness of her bra. The girl has
a long torso, her small waist accentuating her hips, and Stella cannot help but
admire the roundness of her ass in her school regulation khaki shorts.
 
This must be Charlotte , she thinks.
 
Charlotte places her hands on her hips with a huff, as if the wall in front of
her were giving her a curfew that she wasn’t happy about. She stands like this
just for a moment, and Stella feels her frustration coming off in waves. She
reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra as she turns around, and stops
abruptly when she notices Stella. Her eyes go wide. They are big, deep brown
and, to Stella’s surprise, slightly wet. Her lips are plump and shiny with lip
gloss, parted slightly in a small ‘o’ shape. Stella wants to look down at the
rest of her body, but decides it’s probably a better idea to just look at her
face, not that she’s complaining. She’s beautiful.
Charlotte let’s out a small, nervous laugh.
 
“Um...hi,” she says with a smile, bending over to retrieve her shirt.
 
“Hello,” Stella says, and takes in a deep breath. She didn’t even realize she
wasn’t breathing.
 
She pulls her shirt back on over her head, and gives Stella a sheepish smile.
 
“Sorry about that, I’m uh...not used to having a roommate,” she says,
approaching Stella’s bed and holding out her hand, “Charlotte.”
 
She cautiously takes her hand, feeling as if simply touching her would be
violating her. Her fingers are soft, and her hands are just slightly bigger
than Stella’s. They shake hands.
 
“I’m Stella,” she says, softly.
 
“When did you move in?” Charlotte asks, placing her hands on her hips again.
 
“Around midday, I think.”
 
She nods to herself looking away from Stella briefly, before surveying her from
head to toe. If it were anyone else, Stella wouldn’t stand to be evaluated like
a piece of meat, but something about this girl makes her heart race. She
doesn’t mind it. She just sits still, hyper aware of her breathing, as she
watches her eyes travel up and down her body. Charlotte finally meets Stella’s
eyes, watching her watch Stella, and shakes her head, looking down with a small
smile. She crosses her arms over her chest.
 
“I’m sorry, but I just have to say, you’re very pretty,” she sighs.
 
Stella’s heart stutters in her chest, and for a moment she can’t breathe.
 
“So are you,” she says, and swallows, as if she can take the words back.
 
Charlotte meets her eyes briefly before chuckling and shakes her head again.
She breaks eye contact and turns away, giggling as she decides to straighten up
the room.
“Well, now that we got  that  out of the way, where are you from, Stella?”
 
Stella tries to repress a smile. Her laugh seems to be infectious.
“London,” she replies, “And you?”
 
“I am from the beautiful land of Italia,” she says with a slight bow, and picks
up a dirty shirt off the floor.
 
“Why England, then?” Stella asks.
 
Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Not my decision. But I guess it’s because English is
the only other language I’m fluent in, besides Italian,” she says, as she
throws her shirt into a laundry basket that is already full. “I wanted to go to
America, but my parents said, ‘Fuck that,’”.
 
She moves her hands and arms as she talk, fluttering from one corner of the
room to the other like a hummingbird, explaining her life story all the while.
 
“I was, sort of, getting into some trouble at home, and my grades were starting
to drop, so my parents figured I needed a change. They also said that, here, I
could ‘get cultured’, to which I responded ‘So sending me to a stuffy old town
in England is supposed to culture me  and  straighten me out?’, which they did
not appreciate, but here I am anyway,” she finishes, with a shrug.
 
“What about you, Stella? I’m sure there are plenty of schools in London, in
which to ‘get cultured’ by their curriculum,” she chuckles.
“My mother also felt I needed a change,” she says, playing with her fingernails
and hoping she won’t ask for anymore details.
 
“Ugh, it’s so stupid, you do pot once and drop one letter grade in a subject,
and suddenly everyone thinks you’re throwing your life away,” she says, shaking
her head, and over-handing another dirty shirt on top of her cloth mountain.
 
Stella nods as if agreeing, but suddenly wonders what exactly she has gotten
herself into with this beautiful roommate of hers. After the initial wave of
frustration, the hostility seems to have left her, and all Stella can feel is
excitement. She’s not sure whether it's Charlotte’s or her own, but it’s
energizing nonetheless.
 
“Who was at the front desk today? Did they tell you about dinner and stuff?”
 
Stella shakes her head slightly, bringing her out of her thoughts.
 
“Um… Miss Jen, I think?”
 
“Ahh, Jen,” Charlotte smiles, “she’s a good egg. Who did she force to carry
your bags?”
 
“Some tall kid, named Jack.”
 
“Ooooohhh, is that why he couldn’t look at me after lunch?” she snickers.
 
“Are you friends with him?”
 
“Pffft, no, not really,” she says, and pauses for a second, “The last time he
was in here, we were having sex and almost got caught by our House Mother for
the evening.”
 
Stella just nods, not quite sure what to do with that information. Charlotte
surveys the room, her eyes falling on the stack of papers on Stella’s desk. She
walks over on her toes, her head slightly cocked to the side.
 
“Is this your schedule?” she asks, picking it up.
 
“I believe so.”
 
“Oh goodie, you’re in most of my classes,” she says, throwing Stella a smile
over her shoulder, “I’ll help you out with anything you need.”
 
“That’s very kind of you,” she responds, bashfully.
 
“But first, you have to help me.”
 
Stella’s stomach drops. She knew this was too good to be true. She holds her
head up and squeezes her thigh, ready for anything.
 
“With what?”
 
Charlotte turns around, and her face breaks into a smile.
 
“Dinner! I’m fucking starving,” she says, grabbing Stella’s hand and pulling
her off the bed. Stella has no choice but to follow after her, but if she had a
choice, she probably would have gone anyway.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Charlotte holds Stella’s hand the entire way to the cafeteria, leading her down
paths she’s never seen before. The campus between buildings is beautifully
green, with lush trees and soft grass surrounding the walkways. Each building
basically looks the same, made of the same bricks that make up the dormitories,
but somehow Charlotte is able to tell the difference and lead Stella to the
cafeteria.
 
Taking her first step into the cafeteria is more nerve racking than Stella
originally predicted, and she makes a small sigh. As Charlotte squeezes her
fingers in her own, Stella wonders if she is also empathic, and can feel the
anxiety on her finger tips. Charlotte makes a knowing smile, as if she could
read Stella’s mind, and leads her towards the hot food line.
 
People wave to Charlotte as they walk by and she smiles, seemingly ignoring the
fact that Stella is even there.
 
“You’re popular,” Stella comments.
 
Charlotte chuckles to herself. “I guess you could say that.”
 
Stella goes quiet and shovels food onto her plate. An odd feeling sweeps
through her body, a feeling she’s not used to experiencing, that makes her want
to hide in her room.
 
“When I first got here, I made it my mission to be in every club and activity
because that’s what my parents wanted, and then after one term of that, I said
fuck that,” she shrugs, “I guess people remember me from then.”
 
Stella just nods, suddenly not very hungry. She follows Charlotte to a table
that is blissfully empty and sits down, Charlotte right next to her.
 
She looks at Stella, her eyes squinted, as Stella avoids her gaze by staring at
the wall. She moves as if to take up her field of vision and Stella looks over
at her from the corner of her eye.
 
“Are you alright?” she asks.
 
Stella gives her a fake smile, but it’s small enough to be mistaken for a real
one, as she contemplates where this feeling inside of her came from.
 
“I’m fine,” she says, and gently stabs at the food on her plate.
 
Charlotte gives her a skeptical look before taking a bite of her on food.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Charlotte leads Stella down the hall past the classrooms, arm in arm, and
points out different things on the walls.
 
“Our theater department is putting on The Crucible. So, if that’s what you’re
into, auditions are this week,” she says, bumping against Stella’s shoulder.
 
She shakes her head, holding back a smile as Charlotte sighs. “You’re in my
choir class though, how can you not be into theater?”
 
“Choir is the lesser of all the other ensemble evils.”
 
“Okay, but ensembles aren’t required, so you must be into it.”
 
Stella shrugs. “I used to play the violin. Played for nine years, actually.”
 
“Then why are you in choir?”
 
“I needed a change, I guess,” she says, quietly.
 
They walk a few feet in silence before Charlotte points out something else on
the wall.
 
“Our school paper is always looking for writers and other staff,” she says,
raising her eyebrows.
 
Stella shakes her head. It’s become a game now, Charlotte mentions something
and looks to Stella for a confirmation whether she likes it or not.
 
“Okay...sports?” she says, pulling Stella a little further down the hall.
 
“Mmm, warmer.”
 
“Oh! Good, okay,”Charlotte bites her lip excitedly, and looks at the team
pictures. “Um...tennis?”
 
Stella shakes her head, smirking.
 
“Track?”
 
Another no.
 
“Horse-riding.”
 
“Horse-riding?”
 
“Shut up, I don’t know what it’s called.”
 
“Equestria, and no.”
 
She shakes her head and huffs, placing her hands on her hips, and pouts. “I
give up.”
 
Stella licks her lips and holds back a smile. “I used to swim.”
 
She covers her face with her hands. “I totally forgot about swim team!”
 
“You were doing very well with the guessing, though,” Stella chuckles.
 
They link arms again and walk further down the hall, checking out the pictures
until they reach some older photographs. Stella looks at the boy’s soccer team
of 1952, studying each of their faces. She wonders where these men are now, and
what they are doing. Stella wonders if they are successful, or broken, like she
feels.
 
“Hey, Stella, look at this boy,” she says, pointing to a handsome young man
with sandy blonde hair in the front row of another photo.
 
“Isn’t he hot?” Charlotte asks.
 
“Mmm,” Stella responds, nodding slightly, studying his tiny face.
 
“‘John Scot Gibson, the Fourth’. Wow, that is quite a title, I wonder what he’s
up to these days,” she says, chuckling.
 
Stella freezes in her tracks, doing a double take on the boy’s face. He has her
father’s jaw line, but none of the lines or grey hair. He’s absolutely
beautiful. She reaches out and strokes his face as sudden tears spring to her
eyes. She almost whispers his name, but swallows her words and her tears.
 
“You wanna start heading back? I’m getting kinda bored.”
 
Stella nods, quickly wiping away any tears that may have fallen, and links her
arm back with Charlotte’s as they make their way across campus. Charlotte
gently elbows her in the ribs to get her attention.
 
“Why do you have so many things that you ‘used to do’ but nothing you actually
do?”
 
“I just lost interest,” she says, and it’s not a complete lie, “Part of why I’m
here.”
 
Charlotte smiles sadly. “I hope you find interest in something this year,
then.”
***** Chapter 6 *****
Stella walks carefully down the hall, her towel wrapped tightly around her wet
body and gripped between her fingers. She walks quickly, hoping her towel is
long enough to cover her thighs as she moves. She pushes open the door and
quickly closes it behind her.
 
“How were the showers?” Charlotte asks. She’s sitting at her desk, her back to
Stella.
 
“They were decent, cleaner than I expected,” she says, walking toward her
closet.
 
Charlotte turns around, smiling, but as soon as she sees Stella, the smile is
gone.
 
“Oh, my god. Stella, you’re bleeding,” she says, jumping up and grabbing
tissues out of the box.
 
“Wha-”
 
“You have blood running down your leg,” she repeats, kneeling down to wipe the
blood off the side of her knee. “Do you need a tampon or something?”
 
Stella’s breathing becomes a bit shallow. “No, it’s okay, I probably just cut
myself shaving,” she mumbles.
 
Charlotte looks up at her, her eyes wide. Her hands have traveled up her leg,
each one planted on either side of her thigh, one hand to steady herself, the
other to wipe the blood.
 
“Are you sure?”
 
Stella lays her hand on top of Charlotte’s, stopping her from pushing her towel
aside.
 
“Charlotte, I’m fine,” she says, and gives her a small smile, “Really.”
 
Reluctantly, Charlotte hands her the bloody tissues, and watches as she tucks
one of them against her thigh under the towel.
 
“Do you need anything? A plaster?” she asks, worriedly.
 
Stella grabs a pair of pants from her closet, and cocks her head to the side in
thought.
 
“A plaster, yeah, sure.”
 
Stella stands still as she listens to Charlotte rummage around in her desk
drawer. She turns around when she hears the drawer close, noticing for the
first time that she had changed her clothes. She is wearing a tight skirt, and
a neon green netted crop top over a bra, and she has redone her makeup in neon
colors. Her hips sway as she approaches Stella, and Stella swallows loudly. She
stands in front of her and hands her the plaster.
 
“Thank you,” she says.

 Charlotte smiles and turns back around to sit on her bed.
 
“Why are you all dressed up?” Stella asks, carefully rolling the sticky
material onto her freshest cut. Stella watches her shrug from the corner of her
eye.
 
“I got invited to a party a few days ago, and I agreed to go,” she says.
 
Stella nods, the feeling from dinner coming back. She suddenly realizes it’s
jealousy, the little green monster, and mentally scolds herself.  Not
everything is about you, Stella .
 
“I’m not sure if they would want me to bring a plus one,” she says, quickly,
“or I would have asked you to come. Trust me, I wish you were coming.”
 
Stella pulls on her pants and her shirt, hanging up her towel and avoiding her
gaze. “It’s okay, I understand.”
 
Charlotte walks over to her and lays her hand on her elbow, pulling her
slightly closer ever so gently. Her brown eyes meet Stella’s baby blues.
 
“You’re not mad at me, are you?” she asks, and her voice sounds a bit sad.
 
Her heart melts, although the jealousy still lingers around her guilt. She
didn’t want her to feel bad about Stella’s mood, considering she wasn’t even
sure what she was jealous about.
 
She smiles and shakes her head. “No, I’m not mad,” she murmurs.
 
Charlotte smiles back at her. “Next time, I’ll take you no matter what anyone
says. I promise.”
 
Stella rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Okay.”
 
Charlotte grabs her purse off her desk and quickly kisses Stella on the cheek
before bounding out the door with a small wave.
***** Chapter 7 *****
She wonders what it’s like to be dead. She wonders what was going through her
father’s mind when he decided that it was a better option than living. She
wonders if there was anything she could have said to make him stay, maybe just
a bit longer, maybe until she was in university. She squeezes her thighs under
the blankets, practically digging her nails into the scabs of her older wounds,
and shudders at the feeling. She thinks about Charlotte, beautiful, popular,
Charlotte. She’s only known her for a day, but from what she’s seen, she is the
type of girl that everyone loves. The type of girl who shows up to parties
because it would be labeled as lame if she didn’t make an appearance. The type
of girl that has everyone worshipping the ground she walks on, Stella included.
The type of girl who could have anyone she wanted, and Stella is stunned to
realize she’s upset because she’s positive she would make the bottom of that
list. And she hates it.
 
The tears from earlier come back full force, and here, in her room, blissfully
and sadly empty at 2 a.m., she allows herself to cry. She breaks down, sobbing,
tears soaking her hair and pillow, shaking her body even as she covers herself
with more blankets. While she pities herself, she also wants to stop.  Grow up,
Stella, stop pitying yourself, you’re acting like a child .
 
Just as she’s about to leave her bed with her weapon of choice and drain some
of the life from her body, the door opens quietly, casting the shadow of a body
on the floor from the light in the doorway. She bites her cheek to quiet her
sobbing, hoping Charlotte didn’t, and won’t, hear her.
She hears her pad softly into the room as the door creaks closed behind her.
She hears a soft thump as she puts her bag down on the floor, and the rustling
of clothing against skin. She sniffs softly, but Charlotte pauses anyway.
 
“Stella?” she whispers.
 
She holds her breath and rubs her nose on her shirt sleeve.
 
“Did I wake you?” she ask, slightly louder. She knows she’s not asleep.
 
“No,” she murmurs.
 
She feels the bed dip behind her and cold air hits her butt as Charlotte lifts
the covers and climbs in under them. If it were anyone else, Stella would be
outraged, but something about the darkness and her emotions makes her happy
that she is doing this. That in this moment, she’s choosing her. Charlotte
wraps an arm around her waist and Stella can feel her breath against her neck.
She can smell it too, and it’s riddled with alcohol.
 
“Why are you awake?” she whispers in her ear. Stella shivers involuntarily.
 
“Couldn’t sleep,” she murmurs.
 
“Mmmm.”
 
She presses her face into her shoulder and slides her hand up under Stella’s
shirt, and Stella gasps as her warm fingers caress the skin of her stomach. A
voice in the back of Stella’s mind tells her that she shouldn’t be enjoying
this, or letting it happen, but Charlotte’s breasts pressed against her back
makes her feel oddly safe.
 
Suddenly, she’s able to do what she couldn’t do four hours ago. She falls
asleep.
***** Chapter 8 *****
“Poetry. Does anyone know the elements of poetry? Anyone? Anyone?”
 
When the teacher isn’t looking, Stella trains her eyes around the room. There
are a total of seven girls, including Stella and Charlotte, in a class of 26
students. The girls are strategically spread out among the boys, as if placed
where they are to keep them in line, like bouncers at a club. Stella, the
latest member of the class, is in the back, to her disappointment. Charlotte
occasionally throws her a smirk and a wave over her shoulder from the middle of
the class. The boys on either side of her turn back as well and blush,
immediately turning back when they realize she can see them. One of them is
Jack, the boy that helped her when she moved in yesterday.
 
The teacher talks and writes on the chalkboard, and Stella tries her hardest to
pay attention, but it’s difficult when she feels Charlotte’s eyes on her. She
feels as if she is the most important thing to her in that room for those few
seconds, and Stella is overwhelmed with warmth, a sun bursting in her chest.
She chews on her thumbnail and trains her eyes back to the front of the room.
 
“Okay, how about...you? In the back. Tell me something about poetry,” the
teacher says, pointing at Stella.
 
Her spine snaps to attention, and the entire room turns to look at the new
girl, and watch her struggle. She looks from face to face before finally
addressing the teacher.
 
“Um…” she swallows, “What specifically?”
 
He shrugs, caught off guard by the question. “Give me one type that isn’t
freestyle.”
 
She licks her lips and takes a breath. “A limerick.”
 
“Good,” he says, nodding, “So, now, tell me the difference between, say, a
limerick and a haiku.”
 
“I’m not sure that’s a fair question, considering their many differences,” she
says.
 
“Humor me,” he says, with a shrug, “Maybe give me  one  difference.”
 
Stella plays with her fingers as she thinks, avoiding Charlotte’s gaze and her
amused smile.
 
“Haikus are defined by their syllable structure. Limericks are defined by their
rhyming pattern. They both have a rigid structure, but you can be slightly more
flexible with a limerick than a haiku.”
 
He nods before turning back to the board. “That is correct. What’s your name?”
 
She looks to Charlotte for help, wondering if she is walking right into a trap.
“Stella.”
 
“Welcome to Praise, Stella.”
 
Charlotte shrugs before turning back to the front of the room, where the
professor has decided to continue his lesson.
 
“Alright folks, you’re homework for the weekend, write a poem, then next week,
we will read them in class. The poem can be freestyle, a limerick, a haiku, I
do not care, but if you do something with structure, you better follow the
structure,” he says, just as the bell rings for dismissal. Everyone gathers
their things and stapedes out through the narrow door way.
 
Charlotte picks up her bag and makes her way to the back, standing next to
Stella’s desk as she packs up her things.
 
“So, what will your poem be about?” she says, smiling.
 
Stella eyes her, holding back a smirk. “It’s a surprise.”
 
They walk down the hall, arm in arm. Stella can feel hundreds of eyes on her,
and normally that would distress her. With Charlotte by her side, however, she
likes to think all eyes are only on her.
 
“If you don’t have an idea, that’s okay, not everyone can be immediately
creative,” she grins.
 
“Okay, then what are you going to write about?” she volleys back.
She lifts her chin, closing her eyes halfway, as if mocking Stella, “It’s a
surprise.”
 
“Aahh,” Stella says, nodding, with a small giggle.
 
“Did you just laugh? That’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh,” Charlotte
gasps, “I love it.”
 
Stella shrugs with a smile.
 
“Okay, well, if I remember your schedule correctly, this is where we split,”
she says, stopping in front of a classroom door. “Would you like me to meet you
back here, or do you think you can make it back to the room without me?”
 
“That’s alright, I think I remember the way.”
 
“Okay, Stella for star, I’ll see you later.”
 
She blows her a kiss and waves over her shoulder as she rushes off down the
hallway towards wherever she needs to be. Stella sighs and waves back before
heading into her next class.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Stella is filling out paperwork, working on some assignments, and listening to
the radio as Charlotte walks into the room. She doesn’t hear her come in,
humming along to “Jack and Diane” as her pencil scratches on the paper. She
feels fingers in her hair and almost jumps out of her seat, before realizing it
was only Charlotte. She wraps her arms around her neck and gently kisses her
cheek. Stella’s heart picks up speed.
 
“Hi,” Charlotte whispers in her ear.
 
“Hi,” she responds, breathless.
 
“What are you working on?”
 
“Just this extra packet of work I got yesterday,” she mutters.
 
Charlotte leans her head against Stella’s, and looks over her work.
 
“Do you want help?”
 
“No,” she murmurs, “that’s okay.”
 
She makes a small noise in the back of her throat before kissing her on the
cheek again. Her lips linger longer than any of the other times and Stella’s
breath hitches. She wonders what would happen if she turned her head just
enough to brush their lips together, but she doesn’t. Charlotte walks over to
her desk, her fingers trailing behind her and caressing Stella’s back, before
her hand drops to her side. She sits down at her desk and starts rummaging
around in her drawers. Stella tries not to stare, instead drawing her attention
back onto her work.
 
“Stella, when is your birthday?”
 
Stella starts slightly at the question, her heart beating faster.
 
“What’s the date today?”
 
“22nd of October.”
 
“Oh,” she pauses briefly and sucks in a breath, “it’s tomorrow.”
 
She’s not sure how she could have forgotten her birthday. Then she remembers
that the only one who actually cared about it was her father.
 
“You’re joking, right?” she asks, turning around in her chair.
 
When Stella doesn’t respond, she jumps up.
 
“Stella! Why didn’t you tell me??”
 
She shrugs. “I forgot.”
 
“Who ‘forgets’ their own birthday?” she asks, skeptically.
 
“I do, apparently,” she says, nonchalantly, and continues writing on her paper.
 
Charlotte is quiet for a few minutes. She doesn’t seem to be moving or working
on anything. Worriedly, Stella puts down her pencil and turns around. Charlotte
is staring at the ground thoughtfully as she sits on her bed.
 
“Charlotte?”
 
She looks up at Stella, and there is something in her eyes that Stella can’t
make out, but something like guilt is coming off her in waves.
 
“I made plans last week with someone, and now I feel bad,” she says.
 
It hurts, but Stella would never admit that, instead smiling, she says, “That’s
okay.”
 
“Stella--”
 
“Really, it’s alright,” she says, turning back around.
 
“I can push my plans back if you want to do something for your birthday.”
 
Stella snorts bitterly to herself. “It’s okay, Charlotte. It’s just another
day.”
 
She feels her walk up behind her this time, and closes her eyes as her arms
wrap around her neck again. She feels guilty for acting this way, but her
jealousy can’t seem to reign itself in. She wraps her fingers gently around her
strong arms. Revelling in the feeling of love one gets from a hug.
 
“If you say so,” Charlotte responds, sadly.
 
That night, she waits until 2 a.m. again, before finally giving into her tears.
She tries to cry silently, but her nose keeps running and making her sniffle.
She tries to breathe, but it feels like her tears are blocking all of her
airways. The worthlessness is almost overwhelming, but she cries until her
exhaustion pulls her under.
***** Chapter 10 *****
Charlotte is sitting next to her at the breakfast table, chewing her oatmeal
and staring at the wall, seemingly distracted. She’s been quiet all morning,
but Stella hasn’t gotten any sad vibes or angry vibes off of her. Just
distracted. Besides her usual ‘good morning’ greeting, all she said was ‘Happy
Birthday’ before putting on her clothes and leading Stella to the cafeteria.
 
“Do you have any siblings?” she asks, suddenly.
 
Stella looks at her, letting her know that she has her undivided attention
before answering.
 
“No, do you?”
 
Charlotte nods. “I have a little sister.”
 
“How old is she?”
 
“She’s six,” she says, smiling wide for the first time that morning, but it
doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “She’s always getting into my stuff, but I love
it.”
 
Stella nods and takes a bite of her food, encouraging her to continue.
Charlotte shrugs and looks down at her plate.
 
“I was just trying to figure out why you don’t want to celebrate your
birthday,” she says, pushing her oatmeal around in it’s bowl. “I thought maybe
a sibling overshadowed you or something.”
 
Stella chews and squints her eyes at Charlotte.
 
“You’re really bothered by this, aren’t you?”
 
She nods, avoiding Stella’s gaze. She sighs and puts her fork down.
 
“If it really means that much to you, we can do something, and I won’t
complain,” she offers, and softly pats her back.
 
This time she smiles for real, her eyes brightening as she bites her lip. The
happiness that floods her body spills over into Stella’s senses, her body
tingling, and she smiles too.
 
“In that case, let’s get rid of this junk,” she says, indicating her oatmeal.
 
Stella’s eyes widen as Charlotte gets up from the table. “But...I’m not
finished!”
 
“Trust me, I have something better than cafeteria bacon,” she says, excitedly
pulling Stella into a standing position.
 
The sunlight is almost too much as they step outside of the building. Stella
covers her eyes as Charlotte takes her hand and leads her behind one of the
academic buildings into a forest. There is a barely there path through the
underbrush, almost as if the path was made recently, until Charlotte makes a
sharp left turn and pulls her off the path.
“Watch your step, there are lots of fallen trees and roots and stuff,” she
says.
 
The quiet peacefulness of the forest is eerie, but her whispered voice makes it
all seem so magical. Stella squeezes her fingers, a warning to slow down, and
walks closer to her.
 
“You’re not going to murder me, are you?” Stella whispers.
 
Charlotte snorts, but doesn’t say anything else.
 
They walk through the underbrush for a few minutes, squeezing each other’s
fingers back and forth.
 
“Tell me more about your family,” Stella whispers.
 
Charlotte looks at her over her shoulder, and then cocks her head to the side.
 
“My parents are very protective, and they think they know what’s best for me.
But then again, what parent doesn’t, right?”
 
“Mmm.”
 
“My sister, is a gift. One of the kindest people i’ve ever known. So accepting
of everyone, and also speaks English with me. My parents hate it,” she
chuckles.
 
“What’s her name?”
 
“Emma. You might get to meet her, if my parents come to pick me up for winter
break.”
 
Stella smiles, thinking how she always wanted a sister. “I look forward to it.”
 
Charlotte slows down and gently pulls Stella beside her, stopping in front of a
tree with a very wide trunk. Stella can see pieces of wooden blocks nailed to
the trunk in a row. She follows the path with her eyes all the way up the tree,
until she sees a wooden platform.
 
“A...treehouse?” she guesses.
 
“Hey, you said you wouldn’t complain,” Charlotte responds.
 
“I’m not, I’m just...I wasn’t expecting a treehouse on school grounds.”
 
“A few years ago, a group of boys built it and used it to party at night,”
Charlotte explains, “I had heard rumors about it, and how it’s been abandoned
because no one else is brave enough to come out here, or can’t find it. So I
went looking.”
 
Charlotte looks over at Stella as she stares up into the canopy, a twinkle in
her eyes, and smiles.
 
“You first,” she says.
 
Stella meets her eyes and her breath hitches. The light through the trees is
hitting her just right, her black hair becoming something like a halo around
her beautiful face, a radiant angel. She imagines kissing her, taking her
bottom lip between her own. Does she want it just as much as Stella does? She
smiles back dumbly, before forcing herself to breathe. She licks her lips,
counting out her breath before taking the third rung in her hand and placing
her foot on the first. She climbs a bit more of the makeshift ladder before she
hears Charlotte climbing up behind her, and stares at the bark on the tree,
knowing if she looked down she would fall. In this fashion, she reaches the
hole in the platform, and pushes herself into the tiny hut, catching her breath
as she lays on the floor. She closes her eyes as she hears Charlotte struggle
into the treehouse and plop down beside her.
 
She feels Charlotte’s soft fingers push a strand of hair out of her face, and
opens her eyes to find her beautifully big brown eyes staring at her. She
quirks a small smile, and Stella returns it.
 
“You alright?” Charlotte asks.
 
Stella nods, and swallows mouthful after mouthful of air. The hut is empty,
save for a few posters of half naked women on the walls. There are a few small
wooden chairs, a bean bag, and a dirty shag rug in one corner of the room. Old
homework papers are also littered on that rug, forgotten by the boys who
abandoned this place.
 
Charlotte sits up and holds her hand out to Stella, pulling her to her feet.
 
“Let’s go out on the porch,” she murmurs.
 
“What’s on the porch?”
 
“You’ll see.”
 
There is a blanket setup, covered with rose petals, and a cooler off to the
side. There are soft pillows scattered around and more blankets folded to the
side. The porch looks out over the underbrush of the forest, but they are up so
high that they are completely in the canopy of the leaves, sunlight shining
through the green, yellow, and red, giving everything a lively glow. The colors
are so beautiful, it’s almost like she’s in a fantasy.
 
“When did you do this?” she asks, her voice low and raspy, almost as if she’s
on the verge of tears. And she might as well be.
 
“This morning.”
 
Charlotte pulls her by the hand down onto the blanket, then situates herself on
top of some of the pillows. She pulls out two water bottles from the cooler and
hands one to Stella, who is sitting with her legs tucked under her to one side.
They both take long drags of their water, catching their breath from the climb.
 
“You said you had something better than bacon,” Stella says.
 
“Hmm? Oh! Right,” she says, grinning, and riffles around in the cooler before
pulling out a small cake box. “Don’t ask me how I got this so quickly.”
 
Through the clear plastic top, Stella can see that the cake has her name on it,
with some small hearts and a balloon. She smiles down at it, suddenly sad, but
touched. She wants to cry, but swallows the lump in her throat. Now is not the
time for tears.
 
“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, looking up and meeting Charlotte’s eyes.
 
“Happy Birthday,” she replies, her eyes shining.
 
Before she can even talk herself out of it, Stella is reaching out, holding her
cheeks in her hands, and pressing her lips against Charlotte’s. They are just
as warm as she imagined them, soft, and tasting of honey from her breakfast.
Just as she’s about to pull away, Charlotte threads her fingers in Stella’s
hair, and takes her top lip gently between her own. She feels her tongue, warm
and tentative, slip between her lips, and tears spring to Stella’s eyes. She
strokes Charlotte’s cheek with her thumb, their lips moving against each other,
before pulling away reluctantly. She sniffles, and makes a small laugh, before
wiping her cheeks clear of the tears.
Charlotte gently scratches her nails through Stella’s scalp as she avoids her
gaze.
“Why are you crying?” she asks, worriedly.
 
Stella shrugs, and makes another small, watery laugh. Her feelings are too
much, and she squeezes her thigh, giving herself pain to calm down. Charlotte
pulls gently on her hand, laying her down on the pillow next to hers. She grabs
the extra blanket and puts it on top of them as they study the leaves, fingers
intertwined. They eat cake with their fingers, giggling and talking about
nothing in particular.
 
It’s one of the best birthday’s Stella has had in years.
***** Chapter 11 *****
She sits on her bed and watches Charlotte as she changes her clothes, her back
facing her. She slips her jeans down her hips and Stella holds in a gasp, her
cheeky underwear showing off her round ass. She wiggles into a skirt, and
Stella finally turns away, looking down at the pile of work. She’s halfway
through the pile, but she feels too tired to complete it, wishing she could
magically write in all the answers without lifting a finger.
 
She looks up, meeting Charlotte’s eyes, who seems to be staring at her
inquisitively.  
Stella looks down at her shirt, thinking maybe she had some frosting stains,
but finds nothing and looks back up at Charlotte.
 
“What?” she asks, softly.
 
Charlotte shakes her head, her black hair swinging side to side, and walks over
to Stella, standing between her legs. Stella looks up, her mouth parted
slightly, staring into her eyes. Charlotte smiles down at her, and lays her
hands on her thighs. Stella bites her cheek to keep from flinching as the
fabric of her jeans rubs uncomfortably against her cuts.
 
“Nothing,” she says, and kisses her cheek.
 
Stella smiles. “What are your plans, exactly?”
 
Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Another party I said I would attend. I won’t be
long,” she promises.
 
“So...I should wait up for you?”
 
She shrugs. “If you want to. I might be longer than that, though.”
 
Stella moves a piece of Charlotte’s hair from her face before twisting it
gently around her finger.
 
It stays curled for a second before falling straight again.
 
“Maybe you should call your parents while I’m gone, I’m sure they wanna wish
you a happy birthday,” she says, stroking her cheek.
 
Stella fakes a smile, placing her hands on Charlotte’s hips. “You’re probably
right.”
 
“Mmhm.”
 
She strokes Stella’s cheek with her thumb again, before turning away and
changing her shirt. Stella watches the muscles in her back ripple, her skin
glowing beneath the colored lights, and tries to push away her obscene
thoughts. The overwhelming urge to suck every inch of her skin is a new
experience that Stella hasn’t had to deal with before. She squirms slightly
where she sits, sitting on her hands to keep herself from jumping off the bed
and wrapping her arms around her waist. She pulls on the new shirt and stands
in front of the mirror, turning side to side to make sure it looks good before
fluffing her hair up a bit.
 
“Okay, that’s as good as it’s gonna get,” she says, and smiles at Stella over
her shoulder.
Stella smiles back. “You look nice.”
 
“Thank you, have a good night,” she says, grabbing her purse and heading out
the door.
She watches her as she heads down the stairs before turning back to her room
and grabbing her shower supplies.
***** Chapter 12 *****
She pats her thighs gently to relieve the itching in her older wounds, while
avoiding the pain of the new ones. She changed all her band aids into fresh
ones, hoping the change will make her feel cleaner. But the clean band aids
can’t bring back her father, they can’t make her mother love her. They can’t
keep her from being lonely and feeling worthless.
 
“Daddy,” she whispers into the dark.
 
She wonders if maybe he will respond, hopes, prays that he will, but nothing
happens, just like every other night. He’s gone for good, and it hits her
again, reality coming back, as if she spent the rest of the day in a dream and
she just woke up.
 
“Daddy,” she sobs, covering her face with her hands as her tears start to fall.
 
She allows herself to sob loudly, not caring whether the room next door can
hear her, but realizing this is what she needs. Something in the depths of her
mind reminds her that today wasn’t real, it was out of the ordinary, no one
would ever do what Charlotte did for Stella because the family disappointment
doesn’t deserve attention. She hiccups between sobs, suddenly wondering what
Charlotte is doing without her, jealousy mixed with rage. She cries harder as
she bangs on her wounded thighs, too exhausted to get up and do what she
normally does. She continues to bang on her legs, crying out as her fist makes
contact, the pain calling out loud enough to cover her thoughts.
 
“Stella?”
 
She gasps a breath in, and holds it, hoping maybe she was hearing things. Her
cries had also drowned out the sound of the door opening and closing.
 
Charlotte pads over to her bed, looking down on her face in the dark, and
noticing her eyes shining with tears. She wipes at her tears with her thumbs
before lifting the covers and crawling into bed with her. Stella makes a tiny
whimper as she feels Charlotte’s body press against her own. She lets out a
shuddery breath before taking in another.
 
“Stella…”
 
She keeps breathing, counting them, in and out. The higher the number, the more
she wishes she would disappear.
 
“Please tell me what’s wrong.”
 
She sucks air into her lungs sharply, debating whether to speak her mind or
not. A few minutes pass before she feels as if she can speak in a voice that is
understandable.
 
“I...haven’t been completely...honest with you.”
 
Charlotte presses her face into Stella’s neck, her hair sticking to her wet
chin. Her closeness is comforting, but Stella’s skin crawls anyway. She doesn’t
deserve this.
 
“I don’t care,” Charlotte mumbles.
 
“No...I need to say this,” she says. She takes another deep breath before
continuing. “My father killed himself three weeks ago. And my mother, who has
barely ever been in my life, decided she didn’t want to deal with me. So she
shipped me here.”
 
Tears start falling down her cheeks again.
 
“I don’t swim anymore because it reminds me of him, and he left me, with
someone who doesn’t even care about me,” her voice breaks on the last couple
words.
 
She feels Charlotte’s lips against her neck, her jaw, her face, and then
finally her lips, as if her kisses could take away the pain.  
 
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers against her skin.
 
“I feel so alone,” she whimpers.
 
“I know...you’re not alone...I’m here,” she says between kisses to her cheek
and nose.
 
Stella turns her face to the side, rooting for her lips as she tangles her
fingers in her hair. Charlotte complies with her wishes, pressing her lips hard
against Stella’s. Stella moans slightly, sucking on her bottom lip before
sliding her tongue into Charlotte’s mouth.
 
Charlotte rolls on top of her, sliding her hands into Stella’s hair as she
grabs for her waist. The heat from their kiss spreads out to the tips of her
fingers and down between her legs where Charlotte is grinding her hips. Stella
moans and then whimpers, wrapping her legs around her hips as she runs her
hands up Charlotte’s sides.
“I’m here, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” Charlotte says, kissing down her
throat and to her heaving chest. She pulls up the hem of Stella’s shirt and she
grabs at it, pulling it off her head and throwing it to the side. She kisses
the tops of her breasts as Stella threads her fingers in her hair, looking down
at the long, black strands tickling her skin. She feels her soft lips wrap
around one nipple and suck hard, sending a wave of arousal to her center. She
presses her hips up against Charlotte’s, causing her to moan against her
breast.
 
The heat from her tears and arousal burns on her cheeks, and she breathes
shallowly to catch her breath and cool down. It’s hot, everything is hot, but
it feels so good, like nothing she’s ever felt before, the adrenaline pulsing
through her as if she just finished a good day of swim practice. Her pleasure
has taken over her senses, her anger and sadness dissipating as Charlotte’s
tongue works her nipple into a tight peak. She scratches her nails gently
against her scalp, as if telling her to keep going, and squeezes her thighs
tighter.
 
“I’m hot,” she mumbles, thrusting her hips slightly.
 
Charlotte pauses for a second and throws the blanket off their bodies before
kissing and sucking her other nipple into her mouth. The sudden rush of cool
air against her feverish body sends another wave of heat to her core.
 
“Ch...Char--”
 
“Mmm?” she responds, the noise vibrating against her nipple.
 
“My pants...I’m too hot.”
 
Charlotte trails kisses down her stomach before pressing her lips to the spot
just about the hem of her pants. Stella lies there, taking in the slightly
ticklish sensation of her lips on her skin, before lifting her hips. Charlotte
smiles up at her as she pulls down her pants and Stella smiles back, stroking
her cheek. Charlotte slides her arms under Stella's thighs and presses her hot
mouth against her underwear, just a small scrap of fabric away from where
Stella wants her the most. She sighs, gently squeezing her breasts in her
hands.
 
Suddenly, her mouth and arms are gone, and a cool wave of air hits her skin
beneath her wet underwear.
 
“Charlotte?” she calls, sitting up a little bit.
 
Her mouth is open in a silent gasp as she gently traces the band aids on her
thighs, and Stella feels a wave of shame come over her. Charlotte is refusing
to meet her eyes, just feeling the fabric beneath her fingers.
 
“Wh...what happened?” she asks, and Stella looks up at the ceiling, “Did you do
this?”
 
She doesn’t say anything or look back at her. Just nods.
 
She can feel Charlotte tracing her fingers along the exposed cuts that are now
scabbing up, and she feels sadness wash over her. She realizes it’s not coming
from herself, but Charlotte, who lets out a small sniffle before pressing her
lips against her thighs.
 
“Oh, Stella…”
 
She sniffles again, and Stella does everything to hold back her own tears.
 
“Stella…”
 
She kisses her other thigh, then gently nuzzles her nose against her stomach.
 
“What,” Stella murmurs.
 
“You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs, kissing her chest.
“Your skin...is so beautiful…your mind...your eyes…” she continues, her voice
low, kissing her jaw and her forehead. “Why…”
 
Stella strokes her hair half-heartedly, ashamed, feeling like she doesn’t
deserve the attention.
 
“Promise me something,” she whispers in her ear.
 
“What?”
 
“You’ll tell me the next time you want to hurt yourself.”
 
Stella’s face crumples as new tears form in her eyes. She nods, pulling
Charlotte against her in a hug. Charlotte strokes her hair and kisses her lips
lightly.
 
“Did you do all this while I was gone?”
 
Stella shakes her head. “I only did two tonight.”
 
“Will you let me look at them in the morning?” she asks, laying her head on her
chest.
 
Stella bites her lip before kissing her forehead, and rubs her back.
 
“Yes.”
 
Charlotte slides over so her body is closer to the wall, rolling Stella onto
her side so she can look at her. She strokes her cheek and traces the lines
around her eyes, before wrapping her arm around her naked waist and pulling her
closer.
 
“Are you still hot?”
 
Stella nods, and presses her forehead against Charlotte’s, reveling in the
warmth of her soft, loving skin against her own. For once, in three long weeks,
with Charlotte’s arms wrapped around her, Stella starts to feel like she’s not
alone. With Charlotte by her side, she thinks, maybe she’ll be okay.
***** Chapter 13 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Sunlight from the window bounces off the walls, casting the room in a warm
glow. The light kisses Charlotte’s skin, making it sparkle and glow with
radiant beauty. Stella wants to reach out, touch every inch of her exposed
skin, and then some, but Charlotte’s eyes flutter slightly. Stella bites her
lip in anticipation, lying still, hoping she won’t wake up so she can continue
studying her.
Her brown eyes open slowly, the light glittering off her iris, as if they were
giving off light on their own. Stella watches as she blinks, and rubs one of
her eyes with her knuckle. Some of her hair has fallen in her face,
accentuating the color in her eyes and lips. Her lips part slightly as she
breathes, then spread into a smile as her eyes train on Stella’s face. She
reaches out and cups Stella’s chin in her hand, brushing her thumb along her
plump bottom lip.
 
“Hi,” she whispers.
 
Stella smiles, and kisses her thumb.
 
“Come here,” she whines, wrapping her arm around Stella and pulling her close
again.
 
Her warm fingers on her bare skin send shivers up her spin. They trace softly
along her side, like a whisper of sunlight, before guiding Stella’s knee over
her own hip. Charlotte rolls onto her back, pulling Stella so that her head is
lying on her breast and Charlotte’s thigh is pressed against her core.
 
Stella thinks that she could lay like this forever. Half naked and pressed
against Charlotte’s warm body, Stella feels the rest of the world fall away
like leaves from a tree, each element falling one by one to leave behind this
moment. Charlotte caresses the skin on Stella’s thigh, drawing circles and wide
squiggles, and her nails leave goosebumps in their wake.
 
Stella presses her face into Charlotte’s neck, sighing and leaving an open
mouth kiss against her collarbone before gently sucking. Charlotte chuckles,
tangling her finger in her hair, sending Stella’s scalp tingling.
 
“We should get up soon,” Charlotte mumbles.
 
Stella just shakes her head and continues to suck at her skin as Charlotte’s
free hand comes up to hold one of her breasts in her hand.
 
Stella makes an appreciative hum in the back of her throat and slides her hand
between their bodies to cup her own sex.
 
“What are you doing?” she asks, softly. She traces her thumb around Stella’s
nipple.
 
“Nothing,” Stella whispers back, her breath hot on Charlotte’s neck.
 
“Stella,” she says firmly, but there is a smile on her face.
 
“Hmm?”
 
She can feel Charlotte’s fingers trailing lightly down her arm, and the added
sensation sends a wave of arousal to her core. She shifts and straddles
Charlotte’s legs, sitting up and pushing out her chest, looking down at her.
Charlotte’s breasts press against the collar of her low cut shirt, threatening
to spill out into the open. Stella licks her lips before sliding her hands up
her sides and pushing her breasts up and out of her shirt. Charlotte’s breath
catches slightly as she sees the lust in Stella’s eyes.
 
“That’s better,” she says, sliding her hand into her own underwear.
 
Charlotte makes a small moan in the back of her throat. At the site of Stella
touching herself, all her resolve to get up and do homework jumps out the
window, replaced with a carnal desire to see her come. She sits up a little
against the headboard, grabbing Stella’s ass with both hands.
She gasps as she makes contact with her clit, slowly circling it with three
fingers while grinding against Charlotte, building up the pressure within her.
Her eyes sweep over Charlotte’s body, watching as her breasts bounce with each
small thrust against her, getting wetter from the sight.  
 
“Fuck,” she breathes, reaching out with her free hand to squeeze Charlotte’s
exposed flesh.
 
Charlotte thrusts her hips up involuntarily at the contact, digging her nails
into Stella’s ass.
 
“Stella…”
 
“Hmm?”
 
She starts to move faster, looking down at her hand moving beneath her
underwear, and there is something so erotic about not being able to see her
hand working herself into a frenzy.
 
“I want to see,” Charlotte says breathily.
 
Stella slows down a bit and grinds her sex against Charlotte’s stomach, causing
them both to moan.
 
“See what?”
 
“I want to see you finger yourself,” she murmurs, “Show me how you like it.”
 
Stella slides two fingers along her slit, feeling her wetness and teasing her
entrance. She lifts herself up halfway on her knees and gives Charlotte a small
smirk before pulling the crotch of her underwear to the side and sliding one
finger into her pussy. She thrusts in slowly, one, two, three times, each time
bumping the palm of her hand against her clit, before adding another finger and
lowering herself back onto Charlotte’s body. Charlotte can feel some of the
wetness through her shirt as Stella moves her hips against her, pushing her
fingers in deeper. Her little gasps and heavy breathing is unbelievably sexy,
and she feels her underwear becoming soaked with each thrust of Stella’s hips.
Her warmth is intoxicating, like the sun after a cold day of rain.
Stella starts to pick up speed, wiggling her fingers inside of her, moving them
around just to see what it feels like before finally pressing against a spot
that makes her legs twitch. She gasps loudly and changes the angle of her hips
before thrusting her fingers up and against that spot, again, again, oh, God,
yes, again.
 
Stella grabs onto Charlotte’s shoulder as she thrusts faster, her wrist
cramping from the effort, but she ignores it. She’s so close, panting and
sweating all around Charlotte, begging for that extra thing that will push her
over the edge.
 
Seeing her struggling, Charlotte digs her nails into her ass again, but it
doesn’t work. She slides her hands up Stella’s sides, pinches her nipples,
bites down on the arm that’s holding onto her shoulder for dear life, and none
of those things work. But, as she lays her hands on Stella’s injured thighs,
accidentally scraping her nails against one of the cuts, she finally comes
undone with a cry.
 
Stella moves her hand from the stable support of Charlotte’s shoulder to her
breast, leaning heavy against it, her fingers still in her pussy.
 
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Charlotte says, lifting her hands and holding them in the
air like she’s surrendering to something.
 
Stella shakes her head, leaning over and pressing her lips against Charlotte’s.
 
“It’s okay,” she whispers, into her mouth, “I liked it.”
 
“But…” she says, between long kisses, “Your cuts.”
 
Stella sits up and pulls out just before looking at the band-aids on her
thighs. In the daylight, Charlotte can see them, twenty to forty cuts on each
thigh, some covered by the band-aids, others not. Most of them seem to be
scabbed over, as if they were weeks old, others are more open. In addition to
all the cuts, Charlotte can see large bruises that she didn’t notice the night
before.
 
Stella lightly traces the outline of the bruises with her fingertips, feeling
Charlotte’s eyes on her, but refusing to look back. She feels Charlotte’s hand
wrap around her wrist, and she turns her hand over, twining their fingers
together as Charlotte pulls her down on top of her.
 
“We need to get up,” Charlotte says, rubbing her bare back.
 
“Mmm,” Stella rumbles in her throat.
 
They stay like this for a few more hours, drifting in and out of consciousness
as the morning sun turned the day to noon.
Chapter End Notes
     I almost didn't add this chapter in...um lemme know if it was a
     mistake or not lol
***** Chapter 14 *****
“Paper...it’s interesting. Who invented paper? I guess we’ll never know.”
 
“Thank you, David, sit down.”
 
Stella trains her gaze outside the window, the rain pouring down, tapping on
the window in greeting. The sun pokes in and out of the clouds, fighting for
her attention. The murmur of the rain blends in with the rest of the murmur of
the class, almost as if it’s another student. She absentmindedly rubs at her
cuts, the fabric of her tights slightly burning her fingertips.
 
“Stella, how about you?”

She turns away from the window to the gaze of twenty students and her teacher.
He is looking at her expectantly, and she realizes he means presenting her
poem. She nods and makes her way up to the front of the room, avoiding
everyone’s eyes.
 
“What is your poem?” he asks.
 
She looks down at her paper before responding. “It’s a haiku.”
 
“Oh, good. Okay. Go ahead.”
 
She clears her throat and lifts her paper up to the light slightly.
 
“The green surrounds me. The warmth seeps into my pores. I am content now.”
 
Her reciting is met with crickets. She’s not sure if it’s because no one knows
her or the fact that her poem was lame, but she can tell the class isn’t very
happy with her right now. Except one person, of course, and she avoids her
smile.
 
“Good, thank you Stella, I’ll take your paper.”
 
She hands him the paper as she stares down at the floor, then makes her way
back to her seat, the eyes around her burning holes in her new shirt. She wants
nothing more than to sink into the floor, for the devil to swallow her down
into the pits of Hell and claim her as his own. She goes back to observing the
rain, taking in deep breaths, almost as if the entire thing never happened.
 
“Yes, Charlotte?”
 
“I would like to go next.”
 
Stella whips her head around to where she knows Charlotte is sitting, only for
her eyes to meet with the back of her head. Her glossy black hair pulled back
in a high ponytail, swinging slightly as she moves.
 
“Alright, go ahead.”
 
She makes her way to the front of the room, her hips swinging, as if she know
everyone is watching. More often than not, they are, and Stella wonders what
it’s like to be so adored and lusted after. When she reaches the front of the
room, she does a perfect pivot turn and her eyes immediately find Stella’s,
giving her a sly smile before looking down to her paper.
 
“This poem is called ‘Star’.”
 
From those words alone, Stella is captured, and something tells her that the
rest of the class is also hanging off Charlotte’s energy. She clears her throat
and shake her head a bit, her hair brushing her shoulder. Stella’s fingers itch
with want, imagining her fingers running through the soft strands.
 
“In class, She was quiet. But at night…,” she makes a small huff of laughter,
“She was the loudest thing I’ve ever heard, Her presence surrounding me, like a
fog before the sunrise. Her beauty haunts me...her tears call me. I am drawn to
her melancholy as if I can save her. My lips… I’m not sure if they salve her.
But in the morning, as she lays in bed, it feels as if the wounds are healed.
The fog lifts, the sun rises, but she is still the loudest thing in the room.
And I am entranced.”
 
The tension crackles like lightning as the silence settles across the room.
Charlotte seems to only have eyes for Stella, and Stella squeezes her thighs to
keep herself in check. Her heart is pounding and breathing becomes slightly
difficult. She wonders if everyone can hear her heartbeat echoing around the
room. She has an overwhelming urge to run and hide, but Charlotte’s are the
only eyes that see her, and something inside her yearns for this. To be loved,
to be noticed, almost as if these things can save her from herself.
 
“Okay, good job, Charlotte, you can sit down now.”
 
She hands her paper to the teacher before making her way back down the aisle, a
queen looking upon her people, before sitting back down for Stella to only see
the back of her head. As the rest of the class presents their poems, Stella
only as eyes for Charlotte, her fingers itching to touch her soft skin again.
 
Charlotte refuses to turn around and look at her, but something tells Stella
that she probably has a permanent smirk on her face.
***** Chapter 15 *****
Soft fingers tangle in her hair, tickling her scalp, before soft lips press
against her cheek. She purses her lips, trying to hid her smile, and continues
writing, her pencil scratches echoing around the room. Charlotte rests her chin
on her shoulder, and Stella reaches up with her free hand, pressing her palm
gently to the side of her head.
 
“Where’ve you been?” she asks.
 
The pause is longer than Stella expected, after all she was just kidding, and
she suspects something is wrong but keeps her mouth shut.
 
“I was helping the theater department set up a bit for one of their
rehearsals,” Charlotte responds.
 
Stella isn’t sure if this is a lie, it seems possible enough, but there is a
strange feeling coming from Charlotte’s pores that she can’t quite identify.
 
Charlotte wraps her arms around Stella’s neck, hugging her closely and pressing
her nose into Stella’s neck, tickling her slightly. She squirms a bit and
Charlotte laughs.
 
“Do you help out every Monday?”
 
“Mmm, pretty much. You want to come next week?”
 
“No, that’s okay.”
 
“Okay, lemme phrase this differently. You’re going with me next week because I
missed you.”
 
Stella scoffs jokingly, “Suuuure you did.”
 
Charlotte playfully bites her on the shoulder and Stella gasps, mock annoyed.
“Don’t bite me!”
 
“You mean, all the time, or just not right now?” she grins.
 
Stella slaps her lightly on the arm. “I’m trying to work.”
 
“Yeah yeah, okay,” she mutters and walks away.
 
Stella misses her skin immediately.
***** Chapter 16 *****
Stella lays in Charlotte’s arms, her cheek pressed against her breast as
Charlotte breathes gently. Her heartbeat thumps in rhythm with her breaths, and
Stella concentrates on her life force instead of the same thoughts she has
every other night. She runs her fingers down her stomach, circles her navel,
and makes her way back up to her neck. She repeats this path a few times before
Charlotte reaches for her hand, holding it against her other breast.
 
“Why are you awake?”
 
Stella closes her eyes and nuzzles her chest with her nose. “I’m thinking.”
 
“About your dad?”
 
Stella just nods, pressing her lips into a line.
 
“Let’s think about something else,” Charlotte murmurs.
 
“Like what?” she replies, her voice so soft Charlotte almost has to strain to
hear her.
 
Stella feels her fingers tangle in her hair, sending her scalp a blaze with
tingles. She pulls her body closer, clutching for warmth, twining their legs
together.
 
“If you could do anything, career wise, what would you do?”
 
Stella shrugs, her shoulder gently bumping her chin. “Everything?”
 
Charlotte chuckles tiredly, twirling a strand of Stella’s hair on her finger.
 
“You want to do everything?”
 
“I think it would be beneficial to try everything before I decide what I want.”
 
“Well that is indeed very logical Miss Gibson, no one can really argue with
that, can they?”
 
“Are you mocking me?” Stella says, grinning slightly in the darkness.
 
Charlotte goes quiet for a beat and Stella can feel her thinking.
“No.”
 
Stella lifts her head looking to Charlotte’s face, but she is looking at the
ceiling, her lips slightly pouting.
 
“What about you?” she asks, tracing her fingers along her stomach, “What would
you do?”
 
Stella watches her swallow, and her chest raises up, then back down, four times
before she answers. Stella almost wonders if maybe she said the wrong thing.
 
“I’d probably be a singer,” she looks down at Stella and smiles, “like Stevie
Nicks.”
 
Stella smiles back. “I could be your violinist.”
 
Charlotte makes a small snort and says, “Stevie Nicks doesn’t have a
violinist.”
 
“Well, a new sound can’t hurt.”
 
Charlotte chuckles again and reaches out, tucking some of Stella’s hair behind
her ear. She cups her cheek and Stella leans into it, her lips grazing her palm
gently, her face turning into a light fire. The soft light of the moon shines
almost directly on Charlotte, her hair splayed out around her hair making
something of a dark, glittery halo, her eyes shining bright as a light in the
darkness. She smiles slightly before training her eyes on Stella’s plump lips.
 
“Are you a virgin?” she asks, quietly.
 
Stella raises an eyebrow and holds back a smile. “Yes. Why?”
 
Charlotte shrugs, tracing a thumb across Stella’s bottom lip nonchalantly.
“Just curious. The other night you just seemed… comfortable? I’m not sure how
else to describe it.”
 
“I walked in on my mother once…” she shakes her head slightly, “I decided to do
some research afterward.”
 
“Like...personal research?” Charlotte says, grinning.
 
“If you’re asking if I touched myself often, the answer is yes,” she responds,
with a small smile.
 
Charlotte nods her head, pulling Stella close again, her head falling back down
to her chest.
 
“I’m not a virgin,” Charlotte says, quietly.
 
Stella giggles. “I know, you said you slept with that boy...what was his name
again? The one in our English class…”
 
“Jack.”
 
“Yes, Jack.”
 
“He’s not the only one.”
 
Stella slides her hand into Charlotte’s shirt, rubbing the soft skin on her
tummy. She wraps her arm around her waist and presses a kiss to her chest,
feeling waves of anxiety roll off of Charlotte’s skin.

 “That’s okay, I don’t mind” Stella says, but when Charlotte doesn’t respond
she continues, “What’s wrong?”
 
Stella feels her breath pick up against her cheek, her heart revving up like an
engine against her ear. She rubs her side in what she hopes is a comforting
manner, and whispers, “It’s okay, take your time.”
 
Her fingers flex gently in Stella’s hair, almost as if she’s testing if they
are really there or not as Stella holds her breath, waiting for her reply.
 
“I, um…” her breath hitches.
 
Stella bites her lip, holding on her tighter.
 
“I’ve been…” she sucks in a big breath, and lets it all the way out before
speaking again, “I’ve been having sex with the theater teacher.”
 
A self-depreciating laugh escapes her throat before she sighs sadly.
 
“That’s the first time I’ve said that out loud,” she whispers.
 
Stella stays silent, hoping she will continue on her own and not wanting to
interrupt her, rubbing her side comfortingly.
 
“That’s why I quit… I was embarrassed. I basically threw myself at him,” she
says, and Stella feels her shake her head, her hair rustling against the
pillow.
 
“Now I have no idea how to tell him it’s not what I want anymore.”
 
Stella nods against her chest, thinking of a response. News like this is always
surprising, Stella always thought that this kind of thing only happened in
books or movies. She isn’t sure what to say, besides the obvious, which is to
stop seeing him, and she knows that advice will not help without an actual
plan.
 
“Is that why you wanted me to come with you?”
 
“Yeah… I thought maybe if he saw us together he would see that I’d moved on,”
she says.
 
Stella shakes her head. “That’s definitely not how that will happen.”
 
“What do you mean?”
 
Stella props her head up on her hand, her elbow digging into the mattress, her
hair falling angelically around her head.
 
“If my father taught me anything, it’s that most men treat all women the same.
If the end of the relationship isn’t their idea, they will never let you just
‘move on’. If you brought me there, not only would you put yourself in more
danger, but you would also put me in danger.”
 
Charlotte threads her fingers with Stella’s free hand and says, “I don’t want
to do that.”
 
“I know,” she says, with a small smile, “but you have the upper hand in this
situation.”
 
“How so?”
 
“An adult cannot have sex with a minor. It doesn’t matter if it was his or your
idea, he will be the one in trouble. I think if you remind him of that when you
try to leave, he may just let you go. You just have to talk to him.”
 
Charlotte shakes her head and looks up to the ceiling, avoiding Stella’s eyes.
Stella frowns slightly, leaning forward and pressing her lips against
Charlotte’s cheek.
 
“Let’s go to sleep,” Charlotte sighs.
 
Stella shakes her head, and presses her lips to Charlotte’s cheek again.
 
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about something else?”
 
She gives Stella a small smile and nods. “I’m okay. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
 
Charlotte presses a kiss to Stella’s forehead before guiding her cheek back to
her breast. Stella listens to her breathing, watching it even out and hearing
her heartbeat slow back down before she finally allows herself to fall asleep.
***** Chapter 17 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
“Alright, let’s go back to measure 20, and basses can sing by themselves.”
 
Melissa Blanche is one of the most beautiful women that Stella has ever seen,
from her shapely legs in that pencil skirt, to her beautiful green eyes. Her
long, dark brown hair is pulled into a low pony tail, and placed gently on her
shoulder, accentuating the large glasses perched on the end of her nose. She is
almost the complete definition of tall, dark, and handsome.
 
“You’re drooling,” Charlotte whispers, smirking.
 
Stella holds back a lopsided smile, looking down at her music instead of at her
beautiful teacher.
 
“Am not.”
 
She feels Charlotte’s eyes on her face, and a hint of jealousy is in the air,
but she continues to avoid her eyes.
 
“You know, I don’t blame you, her arse looks great in that skirt,” she says,
and there is a hint of bitterness underneath the words.
 
“Jealous?”
 
“Absolutely not.”
 
Stella looks over from the corner of her eye to observe Charlotte, and she can
see a hint of redness on her cheeks, confirming the feelings that she predicted
were coming from Charlotte. She’s not sure why Charlotte would be so upset,
they have never said they were exclusive, or even together. Besides, Melissa is
a teacher, and Stella knows that she would never cross that professional
boundary with a teacher, no matter how attractive she is.
 
She reaches over and places her hand on Charlotte’s thigh, and squeezes gently.
Charlotte responds with a shiver.
 
“Your hand is freezing,” she mutters, before placing her own hand on top of
Stella’s.
 
“Charlotte…”
 
Charlotte nods, acknowledging her name, and squeezes Stella’s fingers. “I
know.”
 
As Charlotte avoids her gaze and Stella tries to smile at her, the bell rings,
causing everyone to jump up from their seats and stampede towards the door.
Charlotte finally meets Stella’s eyes when she is sure no one is watching her,
and gives her a small smile before letting go of her hand and standing to
gather her things.
 
“Great rehearsal today, everyone, see you next class!”
 
Stella can’t help but to watch as Miss Blanche leans slightly over the piano,
her backside prominent in her skirt, one high-heeled foot tapping gently
against the ground. She feels a finger jab into her side painfully, and cries
out.
 
“Stop!” Charlotte scolds her, “Let’s go.”
 
Without a word, Stella turns her gaze away from their teacher and makes her way
out into the hallway.
 
Stella never feels more alone than when she finds herself walking down the hall
with Charlotte. There is an air about her that only comes when they are in
public, as if she is a queen and no one else is on her level. Every other
person that passes in the hallway waves at her, while barely avoiding a
collision with Stella, as if they can’t even see her. Sometimes being invisible
is great, and other times she wishes that she could receive the same love and
attention from everyone. The further they walk, the more crowded the hall
becomes, making them even more difficult to navigate, and Stella starts to feel
like the walls are closing in. It’s not until she feels soft fingers wrap
around her own that she remembers that she is not completely alone.
Charlotte leads her through the crowd, people parting like the Red Sea as they
see Charlotte coming.
 
When the crowd finally thins out, the two girls find themselves standing
outside of the auditorium. There are a few sparse people standing in the hall,
mostly couples, and a few single people eating their food on the hallway floor.
As Stella takes in the features of the theater members, she realizes that
Charlotte is still holding on tightly to her hand, their fingers interlaced.
 
“Charlotte!”
 
A tall, brown haired man shouts her name from halfway down the hallway. He
makes his way towards them, almost jogging, and Stella can’t help but notice
that the man only has eyes for Charlotte. Stella feels a change in Charlotte’s
body next to her. It tenses up, her fingers tightening in Stella’s hand, and
her breath becomes more shallow.
 
“Hey, can I see you in my office for a second?” he says, pointing his thumb
behind him expectantly.
 
Stella watches Charlotte out of the corner of her eye, and she can see
Charlotte grimacing as she swallows thickly.
 
“Um… sorry. I can’t,” she says, squeezing Stella’s hand defiantly.
 
He squints his eyes a bit and makes an unsure smile.
 
“Uhh, okay. Can we meet up tomorrow?”
 
Charlotte shakes her head.
 
“No,” she responds shortly, “Bye.”
 
Before Stella can even process the exchange, Charlotte is pulling her by the
hand around the man and down the hall, leaving him dumbfounded and cemented to
the spot where she left him.
Stella looks back over her shoulder only once before Charlotte is pulling her
around a corner and into another hallway. She feels Charlotte relax as they
find themselves out of the vicinity of that man, and she realizes what just
happened. A wave of pride fills her heart, understanding how difficult walking
away must have been for her. She picks up her pace just a bit, pulling forward
so she is in line with Charlotte’s steps again.
 
“Charlotte?”
 
“Hmm?” she responds without looking at her.
 
Stella bites her cheek and says exactly what’s on her mind. “I’m proud of you.”
 
Charlotte stops abruptly in the middle of the empty hallway, turning towards
Stella, causing Stella’s heart to speed up. Anxiety takes over as she wonders
if maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say, contemplating running away down
the hallway. Charlotte’s eyes are wide, a line of tears starting to form in her
bottom lids, her chest heaving slightly against her tight t-shirt, and Stella
can’t stop herself from thinking that she fucked up somehow. Charlotte drops
her hand.
 
And then, her fingers are sliding along the back of Stella’s neck, before
tangling her fingers in her hair and pressing their lips together.
 
Stella feels something against her back, and she figures she must be against
the wall now, but she doesn’t care because Charlotte’s lips are so soft and her
fingers are caressing her jaw and there is nothing else happening in the world.
She reaches out blindly, finding Charlotte’s hips and pulling on them gently as
their lips move against each other. She feels Charlotte’s hands slide up to cup
her cheeks before she breaks their connection, only to place extra kisses along
her cheeks and eyelids. Stella sighs, sucking up the feeling of love coming
from Charlotte’s lips against her skin.
 
“You’re so beautiful,” Charlotte murmurs, “Thank you for holding my hand.”
 
Stella feels her arms as they wrap around her neck, her face pressing into her
soft blonde hair, and encircles Charlotte’s waist in her arms.
 
“I’m here for you.”
Chapter End Notes
     I am currently writing the last few chapters/sections of Part 2. I
     have a very busy semester, but I promise I'm working on it!
***** Chapter 18 *****
Chapter Notes
     warning: implied/mentions of rape
Months later
 
“I think we should go see a movie.”
 
Stella turns her head slightly, her eyes never leaving the work in front of
her, but acknowledging the comment nonetheless.
 
“When?”
 
Charlotte scoffs. “You’re the worst. Nevermind.”
 
“I didn’t say no.”
 
“Yeah, but when you ask questions, it usually leads to a no.”
 
Stella holds back a smile.
 
“I’m not opposed to a movie, I would just like to know when we would go.”
 
Charlotte is silent on the other side of the room.
 
“You meant right now, didn’t you?”
 
She pauses before her response. “Maaaayybbbeee…”
 
Stella sighs, setting down her pen and collecting all of her papers into a
pile.
 
“Fine.”
 
“Yesssss.”
 
Stella hears the scrape of Charlotte’s desk chair as she stands and gathers her
things.
It was just another typical Saturday afternoon. Stella attempting to finish her
work for the week, and Charlotte doing anything but that. Some days they would
go for a walk, other times they would head down to the pool where Stella would
try to swim laps as Charlotte did handstands in an attempt to mess up her flow.
Not once did they ever actually leave campus. Stella was intrigued.
 
For the last few months, Charlotte has been exceptionally happy. Her attitude
is infectious, and Stella seems to be absorbing her great energy like a sponge,
to the point where Stella wonders if she has ever been this happy before in her
life. As Charlotte takes her hand, and leads her out of the school, Stella
clears her mind of all thought so that all she can feel is the warmth of
Charlotte’s fingers intertwined with her own. They head to the bus stop, only
having to wait a few moments before it pulls up and they hop up the stairs.
 
“When was the last time you went to the cinema?”
 
Stella scrunches up her eyebrows as she tries to recall a memory, and sits down
on her bus seat.
 
“Probably year 9? I used to go with my swim team.”
 
“Do you remember what you saw?”
 
Stella presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “Poltergeist?”
 
“What, you’re not sure?”
 
“I saw a lot of movies that year,” Stella says, pushing Charlotte’s shoulder
playfully.
 
“So, you like horror movies?” Charlotte laughs.
 
“I don’t mind them. Why are you laughing?”
 
“Nothing, I just wasn’t expecting that.”
 
“You didn’t think I would be into that?”
 
“Well, you just seem to be a no nonsense kind of girl.”
 
“And horror movies are what you would consider ‘nonsense’?”
 
“Well, the ones that involve the supernatural,” she clarifies.
 
“So, what do you consider an acceptable horror movie?”
 
“I dunno...Psycho?”
 
“Why?”
 
“Oh, don’t tell me you don’t agree.”
 
“You’re not wrong, I would just like to know why.”
 
Charlotte scoffs as if Stella questioning the mere thought of Psycho not being
a great horror movie is a disgrace to this earth. Stella shakes her head and
bites her cheek, trying to hide her smile.
 
“Because it deals with reality and makes you question everything you know about
humanity! Learning that people kill for no real reason,  that  is horror, my
friend. Not stupid shit like vampires or ghosts.”
 
Stella shakes her head with a fond smile, lightly tapping Charlotte on the
thigh with her palm.
 
“Okay, I agree, let’s not cause a scene.”
 
Charlotte smirks. “Oh, trust me, if I were causing a scene, you would know it.”
 
They sit in what can only be considered comfortable silence. The voices in
Stella’s head have been quiet for sometime now, and she can’t help but feel
some kind of inner peace. With all the time she spends with Charlotte, it’s
hard to tell whether that sense of calm comes from Charlotte or herself. No
matter the origin, Stella appreciates it, nonetheless.
 
She feels Charlotte’s warm fingers slide into her own and squeeze. It seems so
natural, holding her hand, that sometimes Stella never wants to let go.
 
“What are we going to see today?” Stella asks softly, breaking the silence.
 
Charlotte shrugs and gives her a smile. “We’ll decide when we get there.”
 
The bus rumbles around a corner and goes down the street a few feet before
finally coming to a stop. As the door slides open noisily, Charlotte pulls
Stella up gently by the hand and leads her down the stairs onto the concrete.
They stand for a moment and watch as the bus closes its doors, pulling away
before finally heading back into the darkness.  
 
Stella turns and looks down Charlotte’s body. She wore a short jean skirt with
a neon pink crop top and a leather jacket, her long dark hair flowing gently in
the breeze. She is stunning.
 
“You do know where we are going, right?”
 
Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Of course I do.”
 
She takes Stella by the hand again, pulling her down the sidewalk towards the
only light source in the black hole of the night. Her skin and eyes sting from
the wind and her eyes lose focus as they start to tear up, but Stella can’t
think of a time when she had ever felt so free. Maybe boarding school wasn’t
such a horrible idea. As the lights dance back into focus, Stella can see that
the only thing on this street is a movie theater. A giant sign above a ticket
booth announces the movies showing for the night and the ticket cost.
As they approach the booth, Charlotte drops Stella’s hand and gives her a
smile.
 
“Cover your ears,” she says.
 
“What? Why?”
 
“Because I said so, do it!” she demands, squinting her eyes and giving Stella a
stern look.
She rolls her eyes before pressing her palms to her ears and turning her body
slightly away from the booth. The sound of the blood running through her body
is the only thing she can hear, and somehow it’s calming. She takes slow
breaths, listening to the rush of air within her body. In. Out. Two minutes
seems like ten, and then Charlotte is taking her hand and guiding her into the
theater.
 
“You’re really not going to tell me what we’re watching?” Stella asks, as she
links her arm with Charlotte’s. They move to stand in line for concessions
behind five other people.
 
“Nope,” she replies, with a grin.
 
“You know, one of these days I’m not going to just blindly follow you
everywhere.”
 
“Aww, but that’s what makes it fun.”
 
“I’m not one for spontaneity.”
 
“Well, that’s what I’m here for. Live a little, Stella.”
 
Stella laughs, but the joy is short lived. A gentle wave of anxiety runs
through her body as Charlotte stiffens a bit next to her. She can feel sweat on
her palms gathering a bit as she looks to Charlotte to figure out what’s wrong.
 
“What is it?” Stella murmurs.
 
“Those guys over there were staring,” she says, shaking her head.
 
“At us?”
 
Charlotte nods, but keeps her eyes straight ahead. Stella turns her head a bit
and spots the men from the corner of her eye. They were indeed staring, and not
too subtly, with weird, gross smirks on their faces. And then Stella sees them
turn.
 
“They’re leaving,” she says, and rubs her hand along Charlotte’s arm in an act
of comfort.
 
Charlotte nods and lets out a breath, relaxing into Stella’s side.
 
“I’m sorry, I just got a very weird feeling from them,” she explains.
 
“It’s okay, Char, I understand,” Stella says and gives her a small smile.
 
They grab their popcorn and Charlotte leads Stella down the hall before
stopping and turning towards her again. All hint of nervousness from before is
gone from her face, and she’s grinning as she takes the popcorn from Stella’s
hands.
 
“Close your eyes,” she says.
 
“Really?”
 
“Mmmhm.”
 
“You’re being serious right now?”

 “Stella, close your fucking eyes.”
 
Stella gives her a look before raising her eyebrows and closing her eyes.
“Happy?”
 
“No, your eyes are beautiful, but this is necessary,” she says, and Stella
feels her take her hand and pull her along. Stella feels herself walking up a
slight incline and she can tell that the room has gotten darker on the other
side of her eyelids.
 
“Okay, you can look again,” Charlotte says.
 
“What was the point of that?” Stella asks, immediately opening her eyes.
 
“Let’s go to the middle.”
 
“What’s wrong with the front?”
 
“I’m not breaking my neck, we’re going to the middle.”
 
Stella isn’t sure what the title of the movie is, because Charlotte covers her
eyes when it comes on the screen, but halfway through she realizes it’s a
romance movie and she doesn’t hate it. In fact, she’s quite fascinated, leaning
forward a bit in her seat as she feels Charlotte’s fingers trace the lines
along her palms.
It’s almost near the end and Stella is loving every warm feeling within her,
and she wonders if this is not her new favorite movie, when she feels
Charlotte’s breath on her ear. She turns her head a little, wondering if
Charlotte will kiss her here, in this dark room surrounded by strangers.
 
“I’m going to the bathroom,” she whispers.
 
Stella huffs a small laugh, thinking how ridiculous that train of thought was.
 
“You’re going to miss the ending,” she says.
 
“I’ve already seen this,” Charlotte responds, smirking, and laughs softly at
Stella’s incredulous look, “I’ll be back in a few. If it ends while I’m still
gone, just meet me in the lobby.”
 
Stella nods and turns her head back to the screen, but not before seeing
Charlotte’s fond, loving smile in her direction.
 
The ending is beautiful, full of action, but of course ends happily. She feels
herself smiling softly, her heart full of warmth.The end credits start to roll,
and it’s only then that Stella realizes that she is alone. She was so caught up
in the movie that she didn’t see that Charlotte had not come back. The hair on
the back of her neck stands up as an ice cold chill runs down her spin, and she
realizes that something is wrong. She has not had this feeling since the day
she found out her father died.  Oh please, let her be okay , she begs. Her
breathing becomes a bit shallow as she stands from her seat and makes her way
to the exit.
 
It takes everything in her to keep herself from jogging through the empty lobby
and over to the girl’s bathroom. She takes a gently step on the tile floors
sticking her head in and surveying her surroundings. There is no one standing
in front of the sinks, no self-conscious girl checking her makeup, or person
drying their hands.
 
“Charlotte?”
 
Her voice echos, but there is no response. She leans over a bit and takes a
look under each stall, not seeing a single pair of feet under any of them. The
chill from before moves to her lungs, and her breathing becomes a bit panicked.
Suddenly not caring what anyone thinks, Stella runs out of the bathroom and
down the hall towards the other theater, her feet slapping hard against the
carpet. She skids into the theater, shouting Charlotte’s name, but only finds a
worker sweeping the floor between the seats. She runs a hand through her hair
as she turns to go back to the lobby, blood pumping in her head, making her
feel a bit dizzy.
 
Air , she thinks,  I need air to think .
 
She pushes through the front door, wheezing as the cold hair hits her lungs,
but the chill is good. It sobers her up enough to think.
 
I need to call the police, or the school or something, where the fuck is she?
 
Her eyes sweep across the darkness, remember that this theater was the only
thing nearby.
 
Maybe if I run--
 
Her thought is immediately interrupted by a noise, so quiet she thinks she
imagined it. And then it comes again. A sob, a whimper, a sound so painful,
followed by a shushing sound. Her heart rate doubles and she runs towards the
sound, hoping that it’s not who she thinks it is.
 
“Shit, someone is coming,” she hears as she approaches the side of the
building. A male voice.
 
As she reaches the corner of the building she almost runs into two boys,
stopping herself just barely as they run past her. But not fast enough for her
to not recognize their faces from earlier or hear their laughter echoing into
the darkness. She wants to run after them, rage bursting through her like that
day at the pool, but she knows someone is hurt.
 
Please, don’t let it be her , she thinks, as she turns towards the whimpers,
but she knows her begging is pointless.
 
Her skirt is hiked up around her waist, exposing her lower half, and that’s all
Stella needs to see before tears blur her vision and run down her cheeks. The
few lights around the building dance across her vision and leave her
temporarily blind, but somehow she finds her way over to Charlotte. She feels
sick, her stomach in knots, just barely holding down the bile in her throat.
She can faintly smell blood but ignores it as she kneels down and reaches for
Charlotte. She had left her jacket in the theater and Stella had forgotten that
she had it until now. Quickly, she wraps it around Charlotte’s body, wiping
away tears with her free hand. She assesses Charlotte’s body, noticing that her
underwear was missing, and searching for the source of the blood. She has to
turn her head when she finds it, becoming light headed and almost throwing up.
 
“Stella…”
 
She whips her head around and her gaze immediately meets Charlotte’s dazed,
brown eyes. She lets out a sob as she notices Charlotte has a small smile on
her face, and her hand is reaching for Stella’s thigh.
 
She swallows thickly. “You’re bleeding.”
 
As Charlotte closes her eyes, Stella’s brain starts to pick up speed again,
only this time her thoughts are fueled with determination. Like some kind of
doctor, she lists the things wrong in her head, and starts to breath, in and
out. After seven deep breaths, she snaps into action. She quickly stands to her
feet, pulling her underwear down from under her skirt and stepping out of them.
She kneels down on the ground and rummages around in her purse for a pad,
peeling away the wrapping and setting it into her underwear.
 
“What are you doing?” Charlotte asks, quietly.
 
Stella ignores her, kneeling down by her legs and gently guiding them into the
holes of her underwear and pulling them up and in place. Stella helps Charlotte
stand up and places her arms in her jacket before pulling her skirt back down
around her hips.
 
“Can you walk?”
 
“I-I think so?”
 
Stella wraps one of Charlotte’s arms around her shoulders before wrapping both
of her arms around her waist, and guides her down the street.
 
“We’ll go slow, but we need to find a payphone.”
 
“Why?”
 
“I’m calling the police.”
 
Charlotte stops, holding Stella in place.
 
“No.”
 
Stella looks at her, stunned, and Charlotte stares back as defiantly as she
can.
 
“Then we’ll go to the hospital--”
 
“No.”
 
“Why are you saying no?”
 
“They aren’t going to do anything, Stella!”
 
Stella looks down at the ground, anxious. Charlotte had never yelled at her
like that before. There is fury in her eyes and coming out of her like steam
and drowning Stella’s pores.
 
“Hospitals, the police, they don’t care about this kind of stuff, all they are
gonna do is send me home! So, take out the middleman, let’s just go back.”
 
Stella turns them around and heads back to the bus stop they used earlier that
night. Their banter on the bus seemed so far away, like maybe it had happened a
few days ago instead of just hours. She wants to cry, but something tells her
to be strong for Charlotte, now is not the time to break down. She squeezes her
a little tighter around the waist as they sit down on bench at the stop. It’s
not until she feels Charlotte’s other arm come up to wrap around her other
shoulder that Stella realizes she’s been crying the entire walk. Charlotte
buries her face in Stella’s hair as she squeezes tighter, crying freely as
Stella holds back tears of her own.
 
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m here…”
***** Chapter 19 *****
The early morning sunlight glitters in her dark hair and cascades through
Stella’s fingers like water. Charlotte’s cheek is pressed softly to her chest,
small puffs of air creating a warm spot just above her heart through her shirt.
A morning such as this, so soft and comforting, would normally be full of
sleepy caresses and soft conversation. Today, however, just seems wrong, as if
the skies should open up and mourn for the horrible things that have happened
in the world.
 
“Charlotte, what are you…”
“Please, Stella,” she sobs, “I feel so gross and I don’t want to be alone.
Please don’t go.”
“You have to get out of the water, it’s burning--”
“Please, Stella...I need to get clean…”
“Okay...okay.”
 
Today shouldn’t be a happy day , she thinks.
 
“It feels like spring.”
 
Stella looks down at Charlotte. Though she had spoken, her eyes are still
closed, her face pressed into Stella’s chest. She stays silent, stroking
Charlotte’s soft, thick hair.
 
“It feels wonderful,” Charlotte murmurs, almost to herself.
 
Stella’s breath catches slightly, wondering how Charlotte can be so grateful
for the feel of the sun when she has been through an ordeal. How can she be
content while Stella sits and curses the world? How can the girl who was in so
much pain last night seemly forget about it, even for a second? Stella can’t.
She stares at the ceiling, twirling a strand of Charlotte’s hair around her
finger.
 
Stella leans her back against the shower stall, her clothes immediately soaked
through as Charlotte clings to her. Despite the heat, Charlotte shivers against
Stella’s shoulder. She massages her fingers through Charlotte’s hair, cleaning
her scalp.
“It’s okay, Charlotte...I’ll help you, just stay still.”
 
“You know what I like about the Spring?” Charlotte’s voice asks.
 
Stella stares at the odd cracks in the ceiling, feeling Charlotte’s eyes on
her, but avoiding her gaze. She shakes her head in response.
 
“It’s the season of life,” she says, and takes a breath before continuing.
“After months of cold and darkness and death...the sun just...comes out. And
then the flowers bloom, and babies are born...like it’s a brand new world.
Everything is okay again.”
 
Stella feels tears running down her cheek and into her hair. She can barely
make out the water stain above her, the sun and her tears obscuring her vision.
She continues to move her hand through Charlotte’s hair, as if that will
distract her from the fact that Stella is crying from her words.
 
“I’m okay, Stella,” she whispers.
 
Stella closes her eyes and lets out a harsh breath.
 
“Don’t cry,” she says, and Stella feels it right by her ear and her heart.
 
Blindly, she wraps her arms around Charlotte’s neck and pulls her closer,
feeling Charlotte press her face against her neck.
 
“I just don’t understand,” she chokes out. “How can you say something like
that, see something beautiful in this world, when…”
 
Charlotte pulls away, leaning over Stella and finally she meets her deep brown
eyes, and not a single hint of a tear is in them.
 
“I could have died last night, Stella,” she says, “But I didn’t. And now the
sun is out...it’s like I get a second chance. Like Spring.”
 
“I’m sorry, Stella.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“I ruined the night,” she chokes on her words.
Stella shushes her gently, running her soapy hands along her body.
“No, you didn’t,” Stella murmurs.
Charlotte is silent as she looks down at the floor.
“Harder.”
 
Charlotte gently moves a strand of hair behind Stella’s ear as she continues to
look up at her in silent worship. She wonders if Charlotte can save her, pull
her from this slump she’s been in since her father died, make her the way she
was before. Before last night, that was a thought Stella would have entertained
for days. She knows now that Charlotte is just as human as she is, but is just
a bit better at handling it. Most days.
 
Charlotte leans in, taking Stella’s bottom lip between her own just for a
moment, before pressing her lips to her forehead.
 
“You’re my sunshine,” she says softly, pressing her forehead against Stella’s
and stroking her hair.
 
Stella lets out a small, watery laugh, melting silently on the inside.
 
***** Chapter 20 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
It’s almost a week later when Stella finally snaps.
 
The sun seems to be fighting with the clouds, making the world turn from bright
to dark in a matter of seconds, the smell of rain on the horizon. Charlotte
walks next to her, mostly silent, almost as if she’s too shy to speak so often.
For once, Stella cannot get a good read on what she’s feeling and it’s been
like that for the better part of the week. Stella finds it frustrating, almost
to the point where she wants to do something irrational just to see Charlotte’s
reaction.
 
But she would never do that, not to her.
 
Their feet slap the pavement lightly as they walk between buildings, Charlotte
holding her books tightly to her chest, and Stella glances over every once in a
while when she feels that the silence has gone on for too long. People wave to
them as they pass, and Charlotte responds with small smiles, barely lifting her
head, not at all like the boisterous queen she used to be before. It breaks
Stella’s heart, sending icy shards of glass throughout her veins.
 
All she can think is  I need to do something, I need to say something.
 
She racks her brain for a second before finally settling on a topic she
considers safe.
 
“How is Emma?” she inquires, quietly.
 
Charlotte gives her a smile with a far away look in her eyes. “She’s great.”
 
“I bet she misses you.”
 
“And I miss her,” she says, and her smile grows just a little wider, “But we
would never admit it to each other.”
 
“You were on the phone awhile yesterday, what could a six year old possibly
have to say that takes an hour?”
 
Charlotte shrugs. “Lots of stuff. She’s very adamant about paying attention to
the little details.”
 
“Why, does she want to be a solicitor?”
 
“No,” Charlotte says, her face scrunching up a bit as the sun peeks out, “she
was just born that way.”
 
“Interesting.”
 
Charlotte laughs and shakes her head, and Stella’s eyebrows knit together.
 
“What?”
 
She keeps shaking her head and reaches out to briefly squeeze Stella’s hand.
“You’re so cute.”
 
“Why do you say that?” Stella responds, her eyes narrowing.
 
“Your fascination with people is just, as you would say,  interesting ...but
also adorable.”
 
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
 
“Well, you pay attention to detail just like Emma, but it’s really only in
regards to other people. You’re very attentive to people, you notice
everything.”
 
Stella purses her lips, contemplating for a second before realizing that
Charlotte is absolutely right. She had never really thought of it like that
before, she was too busy worrying about the different feelings that came with
being close to someone.
 
“Maybe you should become a therapist,” Charlotte says quietly, her voice moving
somewhere in the direction of her feet.
 
Stella chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “That is a career, isn’t it?”
 
Charlotte chuckles at her response. “Yes, one of the many you said you wanted
to try.”
 
They fall back into a comfortable silence as they both take in the rest of
their surroundings. There are teenagers everywhere, enjoying the land before
the rain traps them inside. The people walking nearest to them are 5 feet ahead
on the walkway, a boy and a girl, holding hands and swinging their arms freely.
There are plenty of kids sitting in the grass, reading, talking, doing
cartwheels, but then Stella’s eyes train on two boys sitting under a tree. One
of them is kicking a hackysack spastically, while the other clearly only has
eyes for Charlotte. It’s that same disgusting, creepy sneer from the movie
theater lobby that had Charlotte so on edge. Stella realizes that Charlotte
must have also been looking in the same direction as her as she feels Charlotte
tense up next to her.
 
She turns to look at Charlotte, who has slowed down just a bit in her walk.
 
“Is that--”
 
Charlotte nods immediately and her olive skin turns ghost white.
 
Before she can even think about it, Stella is striding in the direction of the
tree.
 
“Wait, Stella--” Charlotte calls weakly, her voice dying on the wind.
But Stella doesn’t stop. Before, she had someone to take care of. Before, she
was desperately needed. Before, she was distracted. Now, nothing was in the
way, and nothing was going to stop her from acting on the instinct that she
felt that night.
 
She’s only feet away when she finally announces her presence, as if she hadn’t
watched the scumbag with the sneer follow her movement with his eyes.

 “Hey.”
 
He smirks down at her, because, obviously, he’s much taller than her. At least
he thinks he is.
 
“Hey, yourself,” he responds, and his buddy chuckles beside him.
 
That’s all he can get out before Stella’s fist connects with his nose. It all
seems to happen in slow motion, but Stella keeps sending response signals to
her brain hoping they will go through anyway, like a frozen computer. He falls
to the ground with a grunt as blood seeps from his nose and she lands one swift
kick to his crotch, feeling her toes connect with flesh before she feels
someone try to pull her away. She swings her arms blindly, her elbow jabbing
into bone, but the strong arms continue to hold her. She struggles, attempting
to break free.
 
“Stella!”
 
Charlotte’s voice brings everything back up to speed, and suddenly her body is
throbbing with pain.
 
“Control your bitch, Charlotte,” the boy on the ground says with a groan.
 
“Fuck you,” Stella spits out.
 
“Calm down,” she hears another male voice in her ear.
 
“How dare you!”
 
“My father’s lawyer will be hearing about this.”
 
“You have some fucking nerve!” Stella is practically screaming.
 
“Please, let her go,” Charlotte begs.
 
“If I ever see you look at her, or even  think  about looking at her again, I
won’t hesitate to find the nearest sharp object and stab you in the bollocks,”
she yells, finally wrenching herself free of the other boy.
 
She turns on him and pushes him away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
 
“Stella, please…” Charlotte says, grabbing her arm. Stella ignores her.
 
“I’m not going to let you get away with this!”
 
“It’s not them, Stella, I was wrong, let’s just go.”
 
Stella turns on her sharply. “Wait, what--”
 
She sees fear in Charlotte’s large, brown eyes. Fear of getting in trouble,
fear of the boys, fear of it happening again. And in that fear Stella can tell
that Charlotte is lying. Charlotte knows it was them, how could she possibly
forgot, but she’s afraid. Afraid it will happen again, but this time with a
different outcome. Stella wants so desperately for them to be punished for what
they did, but not at the expense of Charlotte’s safety. And that’s when she
realizes that she may have just done that, put her safety as well as
Charlotte’s on the line. It’s only then, when she sees the fear in her eyes and
feels it against her skin, that she turns away, stalking back towards the dorms
with Charlotte jogging mutely behind her.
Chapter End Notes
     I'm not entirely sure yet, but there should be about 5 more chapters
     after this one and then it's on to part 3. Part 3 might take a bit
     longer for me to write, but please stick with me!
***** Chapter 21 *****
Something is wrong.
 
Stella isn’t sure what exactly, but Charlotte has been gone for two of the
three classes they have together that day, and Stella wonders if she was only
in the first one because Stella had to walk there with her this morning. She
listens to the chatter around her as ice runs down her spine, making her
shiver. When the bell rings, she can’t leave her chair fast enough.
 
She pushes her way through the crowds, almost running blindly back to the dorm,
figuring if Charlotte isn’t there, she can at least drop off her things before
she goes looking for her. She takes the stairs two at a time, just barely
avoiding a collision with Jack, but she doesn’t care. She’s on a mission.
 
“Hi, Stella,” he calls, softly.
 
“Hey,” she says over her shoulder.
She rounds the corner and walks briskly towards her room, but stops when she
realizes the door is ajar. She holds her body rigid to prevent another shiver
from going through her body. She steps up slowly towards the door, pushing it
open just a bit more before walking in.
 
“Charlotte?”
 
But there is no reply. And the room has been transformed.
 
The tapestry that hung on the wall is gone, leaving the walls bright and stark
white from the sunlight coming through the window. The string of lights that
were carefully hung in the room are also gone, alone with the things on
Charlotte’s desk. The bed is just as bare as Stella’s was the first day she
moved in. The doors of her wardrobe hang open as if someone was in a hurry to
empty it, and they were stunned into place. Though there is a comforter, and
Stella’s bed is made up, it looks as though no one lives in this room. Her side
is too clean, to pristine, everything tooin its place to feel like an actual
room. Heat rises up her throat, through her nasal cavity and into her eyes,
tears threatening to escape.
 
Before she can stop herself, a small whimper escapes her lips. Her hand slaps
against her mouth, as if she can push the sound back in and make it so it never
happened. She feels the tears trickle over her fingers and down her wrist.
 
An overwhelming wave of sadness that she hadn’t felt in so many months takes
over her body, her muscles weakening and giving out on her. She sits down on
the cold floor, pulling her knees to her chest, holding in sobs with only her
human hands. All she can hear is the blood pumping in her ears and the
strangled noises coming from her mouth. It seems like it always ends like this,
Stella crying alone in this room. It’s like nothing else has ever happened in
her life. She presses her face into her knees and wraps her arms around her
skinny legs, the fabric of her pants rubbing uncomfortably with her shirt.
 
She’s not sure how long she sits there, when she feels soft hands on her
wrists, delicate fingers pulling gently.
 
“Stella…”
 
Stella presses her forehead into her knees, welcoming the darkness her legs
create as they block out the whiteness of the room.
 
“Baby, please…”
 
She can only sob in response.
 
“Please, look at me….”
 
“You can’t leave,” she chokes out, and it comes out muffled against her legs.
 
Charlotte pauses briefly, and the air fills with tension. “It wasn’t my
choice.”
 
Stella looks up because somehow that pause didn’t fit with the statement she
chose. And then she feels it, like a bug crawling from her wrist, up her arm
and onto her shoulder. Guilt. Only, it’s not coming from Stella. Stella wonders
why Charlotte would be guilty, but when she sees that Charlotte is now avoiding
her gaze, she understands. She thinks maybe she can let it go, go on pretending
like it’s true.
 
Which is why she’s surprised when she responds the way she does.
“Why are you lying to me?”
 
Charlotte closes her eyes and lets out a breath. “Stella…”
 
“That’s why you were on the phone so long the other day… you were calling them
to…”
 
Charlotte looks down at her hands on Stella’s wrists, and suddenly Stella feels
like her skin is crawling. She scoots back, just enough so that their skin
loses contact.
 
“Please come back here,” Charlotte whispers.
 
“I don’t want you to leave,” Stella replies, looking at a spot on the floor
just by her foot.
 
Charlotte chews on her cheek and looks at Stella’s eyes, despite the fact that
Stella is avoiding hers.
 
“I have to.”
 
“No, you don’t.”
 
“Stella, you don’t under--”
 
“I  do  understand, I was there.”
 
“But, it’s not the s--”
 
“That doesn’t mean I don’t understand!”
 
Charlotte sighs. “Stella, I can’t be here if they are here.”
 
Stella shakes her head. “I know, but  I’m  here.”
 
Charlotte makes a small, amused huff. “Yes, you are.”
 
“And I love you.”
 
It’s out before she can even think about it. She had been avoiding using it all
these months, thinking it was too soon and she didn’t actually know whether it
was true or not. But faced with the threat of losing her, Stella realized it
was true. When all she wanted to do was protect her in the face of danger, and
defend her honor, she had to finally admit that it was true.
 
The look on Charlotte’s face is a mixture of shock and pain, and Stella wonders
if maybe she should have said it earlier, if not at all. But she won’t take it
back. She would never take something like that back.
 
“No, you don’t.”
 
It wasn’t the response she was expecting, or wanted, and it hurts. Her chest
suddenly feels compressed, her heartbeat is screaming in her ears. She presses
her lips together into a line and bows her head, closing her eyes.
 
“You think you do but… you don’t even know me,” Stella hears her whisper, and
then, “I don’t even know me.”
 
Stella just nods her head, her forehead brushing against her knee, feeling the
tears as they fall heavily in her lap.
 
“But I love you,” Charlotte murmurs.
 
She wasn’t expecting it, and to be fair, it was almost too little, too late,
but there they were. The words, the response she had wanted and expected.
Stella unfolds herself and practically launches her body across the floor and
into Charlotte’s arms. She settles into her lap, wrapping her legs around
Charlotte’s waist and her arms around her neck. She holds her, rubs her hands
up and down Stella’s back, pressing her chest closer as Stella wheezes
slightly.
 
“They are sending me somewhere with limited phone service,” Charlotte says into
Stella’s hair, “but, I’ll give you my home phone number, and you can call me in
the summer.”
 
Stella shakes her head a little and whimpers. Though she can hear the honesty
and the softness in her words, Stella isn’t stupid. She knows that this is
over.
 
“Maybe we can try again when we both have healed,” Charlotte says, and Stella
can hear the strain in her voice.
 
Stella pushes her face into the crook of her neck and nods.
 
“Let me know what career I should choose after you try everything,” she tries
to joke, but her voice cracks halfway through.
 
Stella nods again and holds on tighter. She runs her fingers through
Charlotte’s silky hair one last time, pressing a kiss to her cheek, before
finally letting her go.
***** Chapter 22 *****
“Stella, can I see you in my office, please?”
 
She’s not sure exactly what she’s done, but when a teacher asks you to do
something, you’re supposed to do it. Nevermind the fact that said teacher is
the most beautiful woman Stella has ever seen. Without Charlotte, she seems to
have plenty of free time on her hands anyway. She follows after Miss Blanche,
who closes the door behind her as Stella takes her place across from her desk.
Instead of sitting at her desk, however, Miss Blanche sits on the edge of her
desk nearest Stella, observing her with narrowed eyes.
 
“You’ve been slacking this week.”
 
Stella nods her head and tries not to think about the bare legs presented to
her only inches away.
 
“I’m sorry.”
 
“Look,” she sighs, “I know your friend is gone, and that’s tough, but I really
need you to participate in this group. You’re more talented than you give
yourself credit for.”
 
Stella nods again, her fingers itching to reach out and brush against the
smooth skin of her thigh.
 
“If you ever need anything… my door is open,” she says, softly.
 
Stella looks up at her then, meeting her beautiful green eyes which are filled
with nothing but kindness. Though they are a different color, they remind her
of Charlotte, and the way Charlotte used to look at her in the new light of the
morning. Miss Blanche gives her a small smile.
 
“I know how hard it is to not have friends at school,” she says, “but I’ll be
here for you.”
 
Before Stella can even register why, she’s standing slowly and placing her hand
on one of Miss Blanche’s hips. She leans in and presses their lips together,
sighing as one of her hands lands on Stella’s abdomen. Stella sucks gently on
her bottom lip, and excitement travels to her core as she feels Miss Blanche
kiss back. And then, there is a pressure on her stomach and she’s pulling back
from the kiss, only to be met with shocked eyes.
 
She gives Stella a timid smile. “That’s not what I meant.”
 
Stella bites her lip and avoids her eyes, blatantly staring at Miss Blanche’s
breasts instead.
 
“I didn’t realize that you and Charlotte were that close.”
 
Stella flinches when she hears her name and starts to pull away. This was
wrong. How could she possibly think that this was okay? She loved Charlotte,
and this was a teacher, and there were plenty of reasons why she shouldn’t have
done it, but she did. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she realized her
mistake.
 
“Stella, you’re a very beautiful girl, but--”
 
“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
 
“Well, yes, but I was going to emphasize that it would probably be better if
you were with someone your own age,” she said with a smirk.
 
“Wait, what?”
 
Miss Blanche stands up from her desk and moves towards Stella, kissing her
again softly.
 
“If you don’t want this, stop me right now,” Miss Blanche whispers, placing her
hands on Stella’s hips.
 
Stella bites her cheek in concentration, thinking about it. On the one hand,
this could possibly result it something temporary, but wonderful. On the other
hand, if they got caught, there would be so many consequences, including her
own feelings. What would she have to lose? But then, she remembered Charlotte,
and the guilt she felt when she slept with the theater teacher, and how Stella
thought that she would never be cable of doing the same thing. And how proud of
Charlotte she was when she stopped it. Their kiss in the hallway. And what
happened after.
 
Stella shakes her head. “I change my mind.”
 
Miss Blanche nods with a small smile on her face, and kisses Stella’s forehead
before letting her go.
 
“Good choice.”
 
“I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
 
Miss Blanche chuckles as she moves to sit behind her desk. “That’s okay. I just
want you to pay attention in my class again.”
 
Stella nods as she heads for the door, wrenches it open and hurries down the
hall.
 
When she’s a good enough distance away and the hall seems to be empty, she
leans against the wall and allows herself to cry. Somehow, she can hear the
echo of her sobs against the walls, wiping her tears away every few seconds.
She doesn’t notice that the hall isn’t completely empty until she feels a body
slide down the wall and sit down next to her. She wipes her tears away just
enough to look to her side. Her eyes take in the dark brown hair, the blue
green eyes, the thighs in too tight pants. His eyes are kind and he nods in
understand before taking one of her hands within his own. His hands are warm,
almost sweaty, and he squeezes her fingers as if trying to transfer his heat to
her.
 
“I miss her too,” he murmurs.
 
And somehow she cries harder, feeling his arms wrap around her shoulders before
pressing her face into his solid chest.
***** Chapter 23 *****
3 years later
She usually kisses him goodbye before he leaves her room. They don’t talk about
what they do behind closed doors, and they don’t acknowledge that they know
each other. Stella likes it that way. What she doesn’t like is the way he looks
at her after she comes, as if she’s the world and he’s glad to have it. He
looks at her, and she knows she’s going to have to break his heart. She doesn’t
want to, but it’s inevitable. And somehow, from the very first day they met,
Stella knew that this would happen.
 
He doesn’t ask about the scabs and scars on her thighs. He probably doesn’t
even notice, and Stella prefers it that way. She feels everything he feels when
he is inside her, his happiness, his sadness, his Catholic guilt, and she knows
she’s the cause of all those feelings. She feeds off that, the attention she
craves, needs the release, and clings onto him for life. And then she pushes
him away, and heads out to class.
 
That’s how this situation normally goes, but today seems different. He sits on
the edge of her bed as she pulls on her clothes, watching her every move, his
eyes caressing her curves as she bends over to slide her shoes on. He seems
lost in thought, but his eyes are trained on her body and nowhere else. She
lets out a sigh, so tiny it could be mistaken as a normal breath, and turns to
him. He looks up at her, and his eyes have decided they wanted to be bright
blue today, instead of their usual blue green.  They are so beautiful , she
can’t help but think.
 
She walks over to him slowly, watching as his eyes follow her movement, before
she’s standing between his legs.
 
“Alright?” she asks.
 
He nods his head and looks at something over her shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
 
“You don’t seem like it.”
 
“Stella, what are we?”
 
Stella chews on the inside of her cheek. “What do you want us to be?”
 
He slides his hands onto her hips, and sighs.
 
“I want to be able to acknowledge you in the hallway.”
 
“Then do it.”
 
He shakes his head. “I want to...I don’t want to say ‘show you off’ because I
know you’ll punch me in the face for that, but...yeah.”
 
“So...you want me to be your girlfriend,” she says, squinting her eyes.
 
He sighs and closes his eyes. “I didn’t want to say it.”
 
“But, you thought it.”
 
“Yeah, maybe.”
 
“You could have said something.”
 
“Would it have changed your mind?” he asks, somewhat hopefully.
 
“No.”
 
He nods his head as if he already knew the answer, and looks down at his lap.
 
“I already told you what I wanted when we started this,” she says, softly, as
if lowering the volume of her tone will make the statement less painful for
him.
 
He only nods again in response, and he reminds her of a broken down
animatronic.
 
“We can stop, if you want,” she suggests.
 
“I definitely don’t want that,” he responds immediately.
 
She pats him lightly on the cheek. Of course not, he’s still a male after all.
 
“Put your clothes on,” she says, and turns away from him.
 
She grabs her things and leaves him sitting alone and half naked on her bed,
and heads to class. It’s easier to leave him sad and alone than it is to tell
him just how much she’ll miss him when she’s back in London and doesn’t have
anyone.
***** Chapter 24 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The day she walks across the stage and receives her diploma is very long and
very hot. She feels herself sweating through her clothes from heat, but also
from the waves of excitement from students and parents alike crashing
continuously into her body. People all around her cheer and laugh and cry,
while Stella stares diligently ahead, acknowledging no one. She doesn’t turn
towards the crowd and look through the sea of faces for her family, or hear
people shout her name inappropriately, like a pack of wild animals. She doesn’t
need to look to know that she has no one.
 
When they call her name, she plasters a fake smile onto her face and walks
towards the headmaster as the crowd falls silent, save for a few claps. She’s
fine, this is okay, being absolutely alone is okay. The headmaster
congratulates her on her many honors, her extraordinary grades, how quickly she
was able to catch up despite being three months late. All she wants is to go
home.
 
To what home? Dad is gone, mom doesn’t care. You’re going to end up back in
that huge, dark, empty house, alone , she thinks to herself. She’s never really
drank alcohol before, but right now she’s considering a large glass of
something. When the ceremony ends, all the kids rush out the doors and to their
parents waiting arms, while Stella stays in the back with the teachers. She
catches Melissa Blanche taking off her robe before averting her eyes, and
walking towards the dorms.
 
“Stella!”
 
She hears his voice but pretends not to, keeping the same pace, trying not to
look like she’s running away from him.
 
“Stella, wait!”
 
This time it’s louder, and she can’t ignore him anymore, so she stops. Somehow
he looks even taller in his robe, and she wants to take him back to her room
and miss her flight back to London.
 
“Hey,” he says, smiling, “My parents and I were going to go out to dinner, do
you and your family want to come with us?”
 
She doesn’t bother to tell him that no one is there for her, she never bothered
to tell him she didn’t have a family. That was private. She smiles in what she
hopes is a pleasant manner.
 
“Sorry, my flight back to London is in 2 hours. I have to finish packing and
all that,” she says, and shrugs.
 
His smile falls and she feels his sadness added to her own.
 
“Oh. So… this is goodbye?”
 
She nods and forces herself not to tear up. “I guess so.”
 
He opens his arms in silent invitation, and she complies, burying her face
against his chest.
She can feel his breath against the top of her head before he kisses her hair.
 
“I left my house number on your desk the other day,” he says, and squeezes her
a little tighter, before pulling away.
 
“I’ll call you,” she murmurs.
 
And she almost feels guilty when he smiles because she knows that’s a lie. He
doesn’t deserve to be treated the way she treats him.  He deserves someone
better , she thinks.
She smiles and pats him lightly on the cheek as he says goodbye. She watches
him run happy back to his parents who seemed to have watched the whole exchange
and are questioning him about it. She turns away and heads back to the dorms,
fear and sadness running through her weak legs, ready to go back to where she
feels safe. Away from anyone else who can hurt her.
 
Chapter End Notes
     This is the last official chapter of Part 2. The next chapter will be
     a very short epilogue that doesn't necessarily contribute to this
     specific story, but I wanted to add it anyway. Part 3 might take me a
     while to write, as I said before, but I will try my hardest to
     actually do it. Might need to rewatch The Fall again ;). Thank you
     for reading!
***** Chapter 25 *****
Epilogue
The crinkle of the plastic suit is somehow soothing as Stella walks between the
cars and onto the scene. There are ambulances, police cars, many officers just
sitting, as if waiting for a cue to all move at once. She’s itching to get
inside the house, see the body and the scene with her own eyes, but there is
protocol that must be followed, which includes waiting for the pathologist. Who
is late. She can feel the potential of rain in the air as she observes the
surrounding townhouses and their various yards. It’s not unusual for Stella to
find herself at the scene of a crime, but each time seems to be a brand new
experience that sends odd shivers down her spine. Shivers of disgust,
excitement, anticipation, and something else she can’t quite put her finger on.
Her attention to detail as her thinking about the potential murder before she
can even see the body.
 
Female, early thirties, killed in her own home, high achieving profession,
check, she thinks to herself.
 
Her thoughts are interrupted by a loud rumbling sound off to her right, coming
from a motorcycle. Can’t see the features of the cyclist except that they are
dressed head to toe in black and leather. From the form fit of the jacket,
Stella can immediately tell it’s a woman.
 
Hmm, interesting, she thinks to herself.
 
She watches the motorcycle pull over to the side in front of the crime scene as
the man next to her says, “That’s Professor Reed-Smith. She’s the pathologist.”
 
She looks between the man next to her, and evaluates the woman again through
her black outfit. She can’t help but notice that this Professor Reed-Smith has
a fantastic body. She can almost forgive her for taking so long to arrive.
 
“Ask her to meet us at the command vehicle,” she says, and starts to walk away.
 
She watches as the pathologist pulls her helmet off, long black hair cascading
down her back, framing olive toned skin. And suddenly her pulse quickens.
 
Charlotte?
 
The facial features are slightly different, but this woman could be Charlotte’s
sister. An odd wave of nostalgia and love almost bowls her over, and she digs
her nails into her palms to keep herself on track. She wants to go to her, ask
her if it’s really her, kiss her hard on the mouth and take her back to her
hotel room. But it isn’t her. Stella would know, she memorized every feature of
Charlotte’s face in the months that she knew her. She tears her eyes away from
the pathologist and instead trains her eyes on Dani, blocking out the last
words Charlotte ever said to her.
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