That niggled Norah. ‘You think I can’t talk about anything because of my dad?’

Poppy looked surprised. ‘I, I don’t know. Maybe? It was hard to know.’

‘Well, I can. OK? I don’t need to be tiptoed around. I thought you knew that,’ Norah snapped at her. She didn’t like her own tone, but it had snuck up on her.

Poppy gave her a long look. ‘How could I know anything? We don’t talk about that.’

‘Because I don’t want to. I thought you understood.’

‘Why do you keep saying I should understand everything?’ Poppy asked, irked.

‘Because it happened to you, too. I guess I just thought you got everything without being told,’ Norah said, and they were officially having their first real argument.

‘Well, I don’t! I know the same kind of thing happened to us, but it doesn’t make me a mind reader,’ Poppy told her.

Norah wanted to argue with that. But it was a bit too reasonable.

She suddenly felt silly. She’d thought there was some unspoken agreement. A silent understanding. But maybe it was just a way for her to let herself think she didn’t have to talk about her dad. That it would all be OK somehow without ever having to do anything. Maybe that was stupid.

She wasn’t healing. The grief wasn’t going anywhere. It was just sitting, stewing, waiting.

‘Right. Then let’s talk. Let’s talk about how my dad kept falling asleep randomly and vomiting and decided to pretend nothing was wrong until the seizures started. Let’s talk about how, by then, the tumour in his head was the size of a fucking tennis ball. Let’s talk about how that fucking tumour absorbed all his kindness and spat out a mean stranger. Let’s talk about how his last words to me were, “Fuck off!”’

Poppy’s eyes were wide with shock. And Norah did something then that she had never done in front of Poppy. The balloon had finally popped. She started to cry.

‘Oh Christ,’ Poppy whispered, rushing over to her, kneeling in front of Norah’s chair and putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Before Norah knew what was happening, she was leaning over, weeping into Poppy’s shoulder, not just crying but flat-out sobbing.

It went on for an amount of time that was impossible to pinpoint. It could have been seconds; it could have been minutes. But then it ended, and she realised she was on the floor, in Poppy’s arms, released from something.

She looked up at Poppy, and Poppy looked down at her with her electric-blue eyes filled with compassion. Before Norah had time to think about it, she leaned up and pressed her lips to Poppy’s. And it was happening. They were kissing.

A second later, Poppy jumped back. ‘You’re upset. You don’t know what you’re doing,’ she said anxiously.

‘I thought you wanted to kiss me?’ Norah asked nervously.

‘I do,’ Poppy said vehemently.

‘Then kiss me,’ Norah told her firmly.

Poppy did as she was told.

Norah’s confusion was washed away. This felt right—so right that she couldn’t believe it had never happened before. She’d had a few kisses in her time, but not like this. Poppy’s warm, soft mouth was telling her things, secrets she couldn’t learn any other way.

Norah understood what had frightened her about the song now. The fear had just been excitement wearing a disguise. She wanted Poppy to want her. Because down deep, in a place she hadn’t dared go, Norah wanted Poppy too.

Ten

Now

Norah had to come into The Sugar Cube sometime, Poppy knew that. And dreaded it.

She was truly grateful to Lilian. The woman had rescued her. And the job was alright. She hadn’t lied to Norah about that. She’d thought when she accepted her offer that it was something she was just going to have to get through. But the cook was nice, and the customers were friendly. The pay wasn’t incredible, but it could have been worse. Plus, the schedule allowed her to drop off Luna at school and knock off in time to pick her up. It was a pretty big gift that had fallen into her lap, all told.

But having Norah order a bagel and coffee from her had been rough. She’d looked so bloody confused by it. What did she think? That Poppy was rich because she’d been in a girl band that was briefly successful in England (and, for some reason, Mongolia) a million years ago?

On the upside, Norah had talked to her without being forced to, which was new. For a split second, it was like they could have been normal with one another. But that was crazy, wasn’t it? They were not going to be friends. Too much water had passed under the bridge. They couldn’t have swum back now if they tried.

But Poppy kind of wished they could. She would have liked to know what Norah’s life was now and what had happened to her in these years.

How was it possible that they’d been what they’d been, and now they were this? This... nothing? Because once, for a time, Norah had seemed like the centre of the universe to Poppy. She didn’t like remembering that, but now that she was back in Northwood and Norah was regularly in her line of sight, it was all flooding back.

Twenty Years Ago

Poppy wasn’t completely certain if it was OK to kiss Norah under these circumstances. But Norah had been insistent enough to override Poppy’s doubts. It didn’t feel wrong—far from it. She could feel Norah coming closer to her every second they were kissing. Poppy’s whole body was electrified by Norah’s kiss. It was like she’d stuck a fork in a mains outlet. But in a nice way.

They were still on the floor, in the same position as Poppy had collapsed into, but that stopped working after a few minutes. It didn’t allow for the bodily contact that Poppy needed. She wanted it all. She had to tell herself to calm down and take it slow. This could end any second.

Norah pulled back from the kiss, and Poppy thought that was it—the miracle was over.

‘My legs are going a bit numb. Shall we get on the bed?’ Norah asked shyly.

Poppy was on her feet in a second, pulling Norah up gently but hastily.

Norah lay down on her back on the bed, scooting backwards toward her pillow, pulling Poppy towards her. Poppy slid up next to her and waited to see if Norah would initiate another kiss, which she did quickly.

They were side by side, body to body. Poppy softly placed a hand on Norah’s waist. Norah reacted by slipping her leg over Poppy’s leg, pulling her in tighter, her hand coming up around Poppy’s head. This was Poppy’s first kiss with a girl, but she knew it wouldn’t be the last. Norah was delicate and beautiful. Her hands around Poppy’s head were so firm but gentle. Her lips were soft as cake and just as delicious. No boy could have begun to compete.

Poppy was getting dangerously turned on. She could feel certain urges growing. Though it would be her first time going there with a member of her own gender, her body was pretty clear about what should happen next. She ached to touch certain parts of Norah. But she was fighting her wants as best she could. The situation still felt a little tenuous. She didn’t want to spook Norah.

But then Norah’s hand moved from Poppy’s head, ran down her back, and cupped her bum. Poppy matched her, moving hand to touch Norah’s bottom. It was bouncy and squeezable, so that was what Poppy did, softly kneading it. Norah gave a very encouraging little moan.

And then, incredibly, Norah suddenly rolled right on top of her. The weight of Norah’s body on Poppy’s felt so good it was almost torture. Poppy pressed into her and began to grind against her. Norah moved with her, making little sighs and moans. Poppy felt like she was seconds from coming, even with their clothes on.

And then Norah’s Mum exploded through the door.

‘Why is your light on so late? You should be—’

Poppy and Norah jumped apart; Norah’s mum was frozen in the doorway. She knew what she’d walked in on. Her eyes looked like someone had pulled the power plug out of her brain. Eventually, something clicked back into place, and she walked back out without a sound, shutting the door behind her.

‘Oh Jesus,’ Norah groaned. ‘That wasn’t good.’

‘No,’ Poppy could only agree.

‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘Neither do I.’