How Far Did I Go?

I may have been the first to look away, but Rachel was the first to leave. Sliding out of bed and padding over to the bag she'd brought with us to the movie she tugged out the blankets and reached beneath to pull out a little zippered bag that I quickly found was filled with all manner of unexpectedly girly delights.

To start with, moisturizer.

That or some kind of cream, I didn't know. Truthfully like makeup and perfume and half of the clothing involved with womankind it was all a bit of a mystery to me, just another in a long line of potent reminders that I was only really masquerading as a woman rather than truly embodying one.

Sure Emily had experience and yes I could cast my mind back and remember bits and pieces. But even still the experiences of a girl living out in the country on a farm were minimal. Emily had never been taught any of these things by a mother who was raised to believe they were frivolous wastes of time and money. That same attitude had been passed down to Emily who had rejected it, but in a time before video makeup tutorials on the internet still had been at a loss to find some kind of guidance or even some kind of starting point for things.

I didn't know anything about it. My makeup for the night had been done by Rachel who had marvelled over and over at the fact that I knew nothing and while I probably should have been taking notes, I was frankly far too overwhelmed by everything to even remotely start paying attention.

Instead, now and then, I just watched entranced. I turned onto my side and propped myself up on my elbow, doing my best not to let my jaw drop as Rachel squirted lotion into her hands and ran it over the length of her skin, seemingly not missing a single inch as she rubbed her already gleaming clean skin into a blush of full bodied flush.

"So what's up then?" she asks as I stare at her, blinking a few times to realize that she's just addressed me directly and I really do need to respond.

I shake my head, "What do you mean?"

"You're not going to tell me?" she teases, half smiling but eyes narrowing without mirth as she presses me, "I mean it's plain as can be to see. You're not going to try to deny it anymore, are you?"

There goes my heart again, pounding loud once more. My throat dry and my body so exposed as I curl up on the bed and pull the covers up to me protectively and Rachel takes a half step forward so sharply that it's like she anticipates me perfectly.

Because she does.

"Don't lie to me."

I was going to. I was absolutely going to tell her a lie, was already in the midst of preparing it and frankly the only reason I hadn't immediately was that I had a question, namely which of the many truths that I'd been hiding did I need to cover from now.

"What's up?" she asks again.

So I do the only thing I can think of, ask the question I need to.

"I'm not sure what you're-"

She cuts me off with a sigh and roll of her eyes.

"Lucas," she tells me bluntly, "What is going on between the two of you?"

I am so relieved at that, though I don't know if I should or if I ought to be because, like anything in my life, there are layers of complexity here that I need to deal with. To peel one back is to unveil all of them and frankly...

"I thought we covered this downstairs," I chuckle at her.

"Well maybe I don't believe it," she replies, waving her hand, "I mean the story is nice, lovely really. He's such a gentleman and all that. But do you really expect me to believe it?"

"Only because it's the truth," I shake my head, "Even if I don't want it to be."

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