13) Confessions: Emma

It wasn't exactly simple, but nothing ever was, not in Emma's life at least.

Emma and Bailey sat side by side in Bailey's bedroom. It was their first time seeing each other out of school since that first magical "coffee date".

Emma stared at the cornflower blue wall in Bailey's bedroom. Three walls were painted a pale grey hue, and the back wall was blue. There were pretty paintings decorating the room and in the corner stood an easel. Emma assumed that the paintings were done by Bailey.

The grey overthrow on the bed was neatly laid and uncreased. It smelt strongly of washing powder and cleanliness. The pillows were puffed up perfectly, rumple less, neat. Just like Bailey always was.

"What books are you reading at the moment?" Bailey asked, breaking the long silence that had been floating around the room.

"I don't have time for reading right now. I am doing my school work, so my biology book, I guess."

"Oh"

Bailey was barefoot. Her honey skin exposed, although it was the dead of Winter. She wore a pale blue button up shirt and jeans that lacked the fashionable, but pointless holes at the knees. Her gorgeous hair was braided into two long plaits that hung behind either ear. Her hair was so long that it reached her waist.

Emma though it was stupid to wear clothing that was designed to look like you could not afford a new pair of jeans. It was pointless, and did they not get cold in Winter with half their knees poking out of the material?

Emma looked across at Bailey. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, and she was staring down at her bare feet. She looked so beautiful, but Bailey always did.

"I'm gay." Emma blurted out suddenly.

She did not know why she had just done that. She did not know why she had told Bailey her biggest secret that she had ever had. She did not know why she trusted this girl so very much. Perhaps it was just a way to break the silence? Maybe she had finally lost her mind? Emma did not know.

The previously warm and sunny room suddenly became an icy cold and one could cut the atmosphere with a knife. It felt as if invisible eyes were peering at Emma from every corner of the room. It felt as if she was standing on a giant stage in front of the world, but it was just Bailey.

Emma had done it. She had made the only person who she had ever felt close to, hate her.

She looked up from her feet and at Bailey. There seemed to be a slight hint of a small smile on Bailey's face. Not a nasty or malicious one, but a calm, kind and loving one. A caring smile, a smile that Emma had not seen before, especially on the faces of her peers.

"How long have you known that you were... that you are?" Bailey's voice trailed off, and the last few words of her sentence were spoken so quietly, that Emma had to strain to hear them.

"For a while. Do you hate me now?"

"How could I hate you when I already knew... and besides, I am gay too..."

"You did? You are?"

For a moment, Emma's serious face broke into a compassionate smile, a happy smile. It felt amazing to find someone her age who was gay, just like her. Now, she finally had someone to talk to about how she felt.

Not that Mrs Arense was not good enough, but Mrs Arense was straight, and an adult. She would not and could not understand exactly how it felt to be gay. Empathise as she did, Emma still felt that she lacked the understanding about her situation that she so desired someone to have. Now she had that someone.

"I suspected it because I recognized some things in you that are similar in me. I suppose it is wrong to say it, but I kind of hoped that you were gay, so that I would have someone to talk to about it, a companion, you know."

"I thought that you were too." Emma said, still smiling happily.

She had not felt this happy in ages, and it felt amazing. It felt as if she could conquer the world, win any battle. She felt powerful and empowered. All the weight that she carried around all day, every day seemed lifted all of a sudden. It felt awesome.

For hours, they discussed how it felt, what they experienced and their worries of coming out to their families. It was such a lovely thing to have someone who understood everything that Emma said. Emma felt blessed to have someone like Bailey as her friend.

By four ó clock that afternoon, when Emma's mother came to pick her up, Emma was tired out, but ever so happy. It seemed as if nothing could put a damper on her joy. That was until she got into the car and found Katrina sitting in her spot...

She tried not to mind, not to show Katrina that it bothered her, but it did. Emma hated change, and she hated it when she could not do as she always did. She knew it was childish to be upset over a seat, but sitting on the wrong spot felt wrong and uncomfortable. It made her feel anxious, as all change did.

She could not watch the scenery on the route home because she was on the wrong side. It was annoying, but letting Katrina see that it bothered her would be worse, so she sat quietly and fiddled with her phone.

"38607. 38607" she repeated under her breath.

Those were the numbers on Mrs Arense's number plate, and saying them too herself always calmed her down. Numbers were like that, calming, especially if they were important numbers that had a special meaning to her, like Mrs Arense's number plate.

It symbolised Mrs Arense, and Mrs Arense symbolised tranquillity and resolving her anxieties. By saying the number over and over again, Emma felt herself becoming calmer.

"What are you saying?" Katrina asked, leaning closer to Emma.

Emma hated it when people were too close to her as well. It also made her feel very uncomfortable and claustrophobic. She leaned as far away from her little sister as she could manage with the seatbelt still done up.

Katrina's strong perfume nauseated her. Maybe it was her sister who nauseated her though. She was always doing things to hurt Emma intentionally and Emma was sick of it.

"Nothing."

"Don't lie, I heard you. Was it your phone password?"

"No, it was nothing. Nothing to concern you anyway."

"Was it your girlfriend's phone number then?" Katrina taunted, her dark eyes staring at Emma with the same harsh, unkind look that her peers would look at her with.

"What the hell, Katrina!"

"Emma!" Mom scolded

"Hell is not a swear word, besides, did you not hear what Katrina said?"

But Mom never did, she never saw her favourite child do anything wrong. Katrina could only do right in her eyes, and if Katrina had said something worse than "hell", chances were that she would still not get into any trouble.

It was so unfair, but Emma's life was unfair.