Keeping it Together Page 10

  "We've already told her yes," she reminded him, and Sian looked from one to the other; they hadn't told her anything yet.

  "Alisha asked us if she could take you out this Friday," her mother said with a sigh. "Don't think we're happy about it, but... We said yes."

  Sian couldn't keep the smile off her face. As serious as the moment was, she felt she would burst with happiness. She couldn't quite believe it. After everything, they'd said yes.

  "You're to be home by nine o'clock," her father said, scowling. "A minute late and that'll be it for you and… whatever her name is."

  "It's Alisha, dear," her mother told him with a note of resignation. " Don't pretend you don't remember."

  His scowl deepened.

  "I mean it, though, Sian," she said, leaning forward. "You have to stick to our rules this time. We need to know we can trust you, and you know your father needs as little stress as possible here."

  "I think it might be too late for that," he muttered.

  "I promise," Sian said quickly. "I'll stick to any rule you want, I promise, even if it's... I don't know... that I have to wear a bucket on my head to every date."

  Her mother laughed. "I'll keep that one in mind."

  That night, Sian went to bed elated, truly happy for the first time in months. She lay awake for hours, unable to sleep with the excitement that bubbled away inside of her. Eventually, she picked up her phone from the bedside table to text Alisha. I love you, she typed. See you Friday x

  Five minutes later, she got a text back. It just said, You'd better.

  Sian wasn't sure if she was referring to the first part of her text, or the last. With a smile, she realised it didn't matter.

  *~*~*

  At five o' clock on Friday evening, Alisha picked Sian up from the door. She was dressed in the same skirt she had worn on Tuesday, this time with a dark grey, long sleeved t-shirt.

  A taxi waited at the end of the drive, and after a brief talk with Sian's mother, they left.

  The taxi pulled up outside a small restaurant with a painted green front with Jesse's above the door in looping gold lettering. There were only seven tables in the whole restaurant, three of which were full. The host led them to a small table in the corner, provided them with menus and took their drink orders. Alisha asked for a beer, Sian for lemonade.

  "I can't believe we're actually here," Sian said, sipping her lemonade and watching Alisha flip through the menu.

  "I know. I didn't even book," Alisha said without glancing up.

  Sian screwed up her napkin and lobbed it at Alisha's head. Alisha raised an eyebrow, sending a shiver down Sian's spine. "Watch it."

  "Or what?" Sian asked, grinning.

  "Or I'll take you home and tell your mum and dad I've changed my mind."

  Sian laughed. "But then that skirt would be for nothing."

  Alisha looked offended. "You don't like my skirt?"

  "You don't like your skirt."

  "True," Alisha said. "Are you ready to order?"

  Sian nodded. She was going to have the avocado salad. Alisha ordered a cheeseburger and another beer.

  The food, when it arrived, was delicious. Alisha seemed to be enjoying her cheeseburger and had almost emptied her entire plate before Sian was even halfway through her own meal.

  "Oh, hey," Alisha said, taking a sip of her beer. "Guess which band got interviewed for a spread in The Weekly Rock?"

  Sian quickly swallowed a mouthful of asparagus and avocado. "The Wurzles?" she asked, coughing slightly and taking a long gulp of lemonade.

  "Very funny. No. Obviously it was us."

  "That's great!" Sian told her. "As long as the fame doesn't go to your head, because I'm not going to be some sort of trophy wife, you know." She ducked as a chip flew towards her. It missed, landing on the floor. The waiter, passing the table, shot them a dark look.

  "Oops," Alisha said, lowering her voice. "If you want dessert, be prepared for a bit of spit in it."

  Sian wrinkled her nose. She thought she'd leave off dessert; she was getting pretty full anyway.

  "Really, though." Sian smiled. "That's great."

  "Yeah, the guys are pretty happy about it."

  "Oh, the guys, huh? Because you're too cool to care?"

  "Exactly," Alisha said, pretending to examine her nails. "I'm more excited about being asked to play Beach Fest next month. We've been given a thirty minute slot."

  "No way," Sian said, peering at Alisha, who was unable to keep the smirk off her face.

  "Yup. Do you think you'll be able to work your parents into letting you go? I can call you a roadie and get you a back stage pass with us. Tilly, too."

  Sian bit her lip. She wasn't sure her parents would stretch to that, but the idea was too tempting not to try. "I'll try to wear them down, but I can't promise," she said.

  "Well, since we're trying to win their favour, I guess we'd better have you home on time," Alisha said reluctantly.

  Glancing at the clock, Sian realised it was already quarter past eight. "I can't believe it's that late already," she said with a frown.

  "Well, time flies and all that. Although I think we have enough time to finish our drinks."

  Alisha paid the bill, the two of them arguing until she finally wore Sian down, and they sat, sipping their drinks and enjoying the peace of the moment.

  When they couldn't stay any longer, they headed out into the street, still light and warm with the sun only just beginning to sink in the sky.

  They walked to the taxi rank around the corner and sat close to each other in the back, holding hands, Sian leaning against Alisha's shoulder. Even now, she couldn't quite believe she was with Alisha, that after everything, they were holding hands like nothing had happened.

  Alisha walked her up the drive to the doorstep, but wouldn't come in. They kissed there, soft and gentle in case anyone was watching, although Sian wanted nothing more in that moment than to press herself close to Alisha's body and cling to her, to kiss her with the heat that was simmering inside her. Instead, she pulled away, thanked her for dinner, and closed the door.

  Epilogue

  Two Years Later

  "Do we have to?" Alisha groaned from the sofa, covering her eyes with her hands. "Can't we just jump off the balcony instead?"

  Sian stood in the doorway, a vegetable knife in her hand. "No," she said, pointing the knife threateningly. "We can't. This is the first time my parents have seen the flat since we moved in, so I want everything to be perfect, okay?"

  Alisha groaned again. "Does that mean I have to tidy?" she asked, looking as though the thought made her want to throw up.

  "Yes," Sian said, stifling a laugh and retreating back into the kitchen as Alisha began stomping around the room, picking things up and throwing them back down in different, but equally untidy, places.

  An hour later and the food was simmering nicely on the stove, and, somehow, the place looked tidy for the first time since they'd moved in two weeks earlier.

  There were still a couple of unpacked boxes to be dealt with, but they were pushed into the corners of the room, barely noticeable.

  "Thank you," Sian said as Alisha stepped out of their bedroom dressed in a nice jumper and a pair of jeans that didn't have holes in them or chains hanging from the belt loops.

  "Anything for you," Alisha said, wrapping her arms around Sian's waist and pulling her close. "Even if it is unnecessarily cruel of you to ask me." She pouted as she pressed herself close against Sian's body, smelling of smoke and incense and, just a little, of beer. "You'd better make it up to me later," she said, a crude smile playing at her lips.

  Sian sighed, pretending not to be particularly interested, despite the heat pooling low in her stomach. "Anything for you," she said. "Even if it is unnecessarily cruel of you to—" She was cut off by a kiss, a tongue thrusting into her mouth, teeth just barely catching at her lip.

  She straightened herself as the doorbell rang, cutting them off mid-kiss, and tried to flatten her
hair.

  She was stopped short by fingers curling firmly around her wrist, and was pulled back for another kiss despite her protests. "You," she said, pulling away and towards the door, "are a menace. Maybe my dad was right about you."

  Alisha laughed, and went to set the table.

  FIN

  About the Author

  S. A. Winters is a British writer with a penchant for the gothic. They currently live in the centre of Bristol amongst shabby gay bars, massage parlours and anarchist hangouts. When they aren’t writing, they spend their time looking after elderly rats, listening to heavy metal, watching horror films, or down the pub.

  S. A. Winters most enjoys writing paranormal, but likes to play with other genres from time to time and has been known to dabble in contemporary, steampunk and historical.

  S. A. Winters both writes and edits for Less Than Three.

  You can keep up with S. A. Winters through their twitter account:

  (http://www.twitter.com/WintersSA) or their website (http://www.sawinters.com).