#letting myself be his juice box every few nights in camp

[ninjathrowingstork]

It's the reminder he's free from Cazador's orders and he's drinking humanoid blood for the first time, so he's getting a real meal and the right nutrition for the first time in centuries. He's broken free from the rules controlling him but also that edge and desperation from the hunger are finally gone. It must be like the worst form of getting hangry, but only eating the right food will lift it.

[hobeymakar]

Whatever Will I Be | J. Skinner

Words: 2,627

A/N: In this, COVID-19 is going on and the playoffs are currently happening in its new schedule and format

Warnings: swearing, alcohol use, mentions of sex

-

You wake up to the sound of footsteps bursting through the door and running to your bed, pulling on your legs.

“Mommy! Daddy! Wake up!” you hear your twin sons exclaim, as they continue to pull on your legs.

“Boys! Stop it!” Jeff groans, sitting up.

He lifts Jesse up onto the bed and Jesse takes that as an excuse to crawl over to you.

“Mommy wake up!” he whines, yanking on your arm.

“Jesse! Be gentle with Mommy!” Jeff warns, shooting him a look.

Jeremy waddles his way over to Jeff’s side and gets lifted onto the bed, as well.

“Morning, boys,” you finally say, not wanting to be attacked some more by your sons.

“Auntie Jillian is here!” they announce.

“That’s great. How about Daddy makes breakfast!” you suggest, knowing how much the boys love when Jeff makes breakfast.

“Daddycakes! Daddycakes!” the boys chant, referring to Jeff’s pancakes.

“Alright boys, Daddycakes it is,” he smiles, getting up from bed.

He puts on an old Kitchener Rangers shirt before leaving the room. He obviously checks the boys pull-ups first, making sure they didn’t pee in them overnight. That’s one of the many times you’re both thankful that the boys are potty trained and only use the pull-ups at night. They then head downstairs where they’re met with Jillian who is standing in the kitchen, typing away on her phone.

“Good morning, Jeff,” she smiles, hugging her older brother.

“Jill, what brings you here so early?” he asks, as he places the twins in their high chairs.

“I figured I could help you guys out early. I know today is a big day and I figured I could help you deal with my favorite little nephews,” she explains.

“Yeah well with these little guys, we’re gonna need all the help we can get,” he replies, getting the ingredients out of the pancakes.

“Where’s Y/N?” she asks.

You start waddling your way downstairs right after she asks.

“Speaking of the devil,” he chuckles, as you slowly make your way to the kitchen.

“Y/N!” Jillian smiles, hugging you.

“Hi, my love! It’s so good to see you!” you smile back.

“How’s my little niece or nephew doing?” she asks, placing her hands on your bump.

“He or she is alright. This pregnancy has been easier than the twins. God, that pregnancy was so exhausting, but with this little one it’s been pretty smooth,” you explain, thinking about the hell the wins put you through.

“Mommy, juice!” Jesse chants, smacking his hands against the table.

“Jesse, what do we say?” you ask, giving him a stern look.

“Pwease!” he replies, shoving a finger in his mouth.

You, Jillian, and Jeff laugh before you get both Jesse and Jeremy a juice box, since you know that Jeremy would ask for one after seeing his brother drinking one.

“So I talked to Mom and Dad and the girls and they said they should be here within the next few hours to set everything up for the party. What time is your family coming, Y/N?” she asks.

“I don’t know. They said they would get here by 2:30,” you inform her.

“Awesome because we were planning to start this thing around that time. Everyone can eat and have a good time and then at like 6 we can do the actual reveal,” she suggests.

“That sounds like a great idea, Jill!” you smile, loving the plan.

“Thank you, my love. I always have the best ideas,” she teases.

Normally, you would’ve had a bigger celebration with Jeff’s teammates and all the WAGs, as well as all your friends and extended family. The celebration would’ve also taken place in Buffalo, as Jeff would be in training camp at the moment. However, COVID-19 brought a change to all their plans, so their celebration will be in their backyard and is limited to only you and Jeff’s immediate family.

Jeff finishes making the pancakes and serves everyone. He also pours coffee for himself, you, and Jillian. You all sit and watch as the twins eat and babble, while making a mess all over themselves and their high chairs.

“Are you guys sure you’re ready for another kid?” Jillian asks, looking at how chaotic the twins are.

“If I can handle these two little terrors, I think I can handle a third child on top. Although I will take advantage of this extra time Jeff has had to help,” you explain.

“I never knew how hard it was to get these two into bed every night, until I started doing it mostly by myself while I let Y/N rest,” he confesses.

“Now you know why I would always be so tired every time you would come home after a game,” you reply.

“Best wife ever,” he smiles, kissing your forehead.

“I love our children, even though they’re so damn hyper,” you admit.

The boys start babbling about something and you both pretend like you understand exactly what they’re saying. After a while, they finish eating and you clean them up, as Jeff picks up all the dishes and puts them all in the dishwasher. 

“Babe, can you give the boys a bath, please? They have syrup all over their hair and themselves,” you note, taking in how filthy the boys managed to get themselves.

“Sure babe. Come on boys, you’re both stinky! Ew!” he teases, putting his shirt over his nose.

That gets a rise out of the twins as they start to laugh uncontrollably at their father’s antics. He picks them both up and carries them upstairs.

“Is my brother ready for another kid?” Jillian, as soon as he’s upstairs.

“I know it’ll be tough once the new season starts, but he loves being a dad and I know he’ll be able to handle it,” you reply, knowing how great he is with the twins.

“Yeah, he’s pretty great with them and he’ll be even better with a daughter. Right now, you’re outnumbered by the boys in your house,” she teases.

“I mean, I would love having another boy, but having a girl would be really great, too! It would be great to not be so outnumbered too,” you tease, referring to the amount of testosterone in your house.

Jillian goes outside to start setting up for the party, while you start preparing what to make for the party. After a bit, Jeff’s other sisters show up, as well as his parents and they help set up. Jeff’s mom and two of his sisters take over in the kitchen, so that you can go get ready. You head back upstairs and take a nice warm, relaxing bath, as everyone else is busy preparing for the party.

After a while, you get out of the bath and head to your room to get dressed. You’re in your closet getting ready for the party, while your in-laws are setting up everything in the backyard. The weather has been nice in Markham recently and you’re hoping that will continue for the few days left of summer. You, Jeff, and the twins have been at your offseason home in Markham ever since the league allowed for players to travel back to their home countries.

You and Jeff had decided right away that it was best for your little family to head back to Markham instead of riding out the pandemic in Buffalo. You’re both glad you did because it’s been a long offseason, with the Sabres not making the qualifying round. 

You're currently 20 weeks pregnant with your second child, after getting pregnant right after quarantine started. You thought people were lying about a quarantine baby boom, but you definitely contributed to that. You finish getting dressed with your hair and makeup done as well. You have a blue and gold dress on, which are obviously Sabres colors, while Jeff is dressed in his jersey and the twins are also dressed in their mini Skinner jerseys. You leave the room and make your way downstairs and as soon as you head outside, you hear the shouts of “Mommy!”

The twins come barreling towards you and hug your legs.

“You look so pretty, Mommy!” they exclaim.

“Thank you so much, my babies!” you smile, ruffling their curls.

Jeff then makes his way towards you and you swear you hear the air being punched out of lungs.

“Wow, babe! You look amazing,” he smiles, kissing you.

“It’s amazing how nice I clean up when I’m given some alone time away from our little terrors,” you tease, referring to your active 2 year old sons who think it’s fun to drive you both crazy.

“Well good thing my family’s all here to help, except for Ben,” he adds, referring to his only brother Ben.

Ben is currently gearing up for another season playing hockey in Germany and unfortunately couldn’t be here but he’s apparently gonna be sent the video from one of Jeff’s sisters. You greet all of Jeff’s sisters and his parents, before greeting your family as well. Everyone is talking about the bets they placed on the gender and the decorations are set up perfectly. All the treats are baby-themed and everything looks amazing for something being planned during a global pandemic. Andrea pours you a mommy-gria aka a non-alcoholic sangria and you watch the kids interact with Jeff’s family, as well as your family. Music is playing and everyone is dancing and having a good time, completely forgetting about the chao going on in the world for the moment.

The food is being served outside and everyone is eating while also trying to keep a bit of a distance from everyone, as you’re still in a global pandemic. Your family is interacting with the Skinner family nicely and times like these makes you really miss family. In the beginning of the pandemic, the lockdown made it so that you couldn’t see you and Jeff’s family, but now with the restrictions easing, you’ve been cherishing the time being spent with them.

After a while, everyone finishes eating and you head over to the driveway where the net is set up and Jeff grabs his stick in his hand. Everyone follows suit and crowds around in the driveway to get a good view of the surprise. Jennifer hands him the special puck and they all get ready to film the gender reveal.

“Are you all ready?” Jeff asks, stickhandling the puck a little.

“Yes!” they all shout in unison.

“Alright, 1-2-3!” he shouts, before shooting the puck into the empty net.

Pink smoke comes out of the puck and everyone starts shouting. Jeff hugs and kisses you as tears of joy start to roll down your cheeks.

“I love you so much, baby!” he smiles, kissing you.

“You’re gonna be the best girl dad ever!” you assure him, knowing how great he is with the twins.

Those who bet boy pay up their debts and hand all the money in a box to Jillian, who returns it to your room for safe keeping. The music turns back on and people start dancing again, while Jennifer and Andrea go back inside to grab stuff to cut the cake. After that, everyone takes turns taking pictures with you, Jeff, and the kids in front of the cake that reads “whatever will i be?” After all the pictures are taken, Jennifer and Andrea start cutting the cake, while Erica and Jillian pass the pieces of cake out to everyone. After a while, everyone has a slice and you sit down on your favorite chair while you eat your cake. Jeff is sat right beside you as the twins are on their high-chairs making a mess from eating the cake.

“Are you boys excited to have a little sister?” Jeff asks.

“Sister! Sister! Sister!” they chant over and over again, smashing the cake with their hands.

“I guess that’s a yes,” he chuckles, kissing your cheek.

You start thinking of names for your baby girl as you eat, not noticing yourself starting to zone out.

“Hello earth to Y/N!” Jeff calls out, waving his hand in front of your face.

You snap out of it and blink a few times before turning to face him. “Sorry, babe.”

“What are you thinking so hard about?” he asks.

“Just names for our baby girl,” you reply.

“Already? What names are you thinking of?” he asks.

“I like Scarlett for her first name and Jessica for her middle name,” you inform him.

“Scarlett Jessica Skinner? I like that,” he smiles, nodding his head.

“So Scarlett Jessica it is then?” you ask to make sure.

“Yes babe, Scarlett Jessica it is,” he confirms, nodding his head.

Your daughter starts moving around in your womb, clearly agreeing with the choice for her name.

“She’s moving so I guess she likes her name,” you giggle, loving the feeling of her movements.

After a while, everyone is done eating, and Jeff’s sisters help clean everything up. After a while, some of your family start leaving, bidding you, Jeff, and the kids farewell. More and more people follow suit until it’s just Jeff’s family left. They help clean up everything and bring everything inside to the house. They packaway the leftovers to take over to their houses, since you tell them that you don’t want any of it. 

After everything is cleaned up, Jillian informs you and Jeff that she’ll be taking the twins home with her to watch them so that you and Jeff can have a night alone together. You both happily agree to it and Jeff goes upstairs to pack everything for the kids, while you make yourself comfortable on the couch. After what feels like forever, but it’s really 20 minutes, Jeff returns with two bags packed for the twins.

“Babe, it’s one night! They don’t need all that stuff!” you sigh, knowing that he for sure overpacked.

“I just want them to have everything they need,” he defends himself, handing Jillian the bags.

“Are you boys ready to have a sleepover with Auntie Jillian?” Jillian asks.

“Yes! Sleepover!” they chant in excitement, since they know they’ll be able to get away with everything with their Aunt.

“Alright, let’s go kiddos!” she shouts, grabbing their hands.

She bids everyone farewell and leaves the house with the kids in tow. The rest of Jeff;s family follow suit and before you know it, the house is left to just you two.

“Do you hear that babe?” you ask.

“The sweet sound of silence. God, I can’t wait to sleep in tomorrow!” he cries out in joy.

“I love the boys, but I’m sure gonna enjoy this night without them,” you add.

“I’m gonna go shower,” he informs you.

“Alright, I’ll be getting ready for bed,” you inform him.

You both go upstairs and into the bathroom. You take off your makeup and tie up your hair, while Jeff takes a shower. You then go to your room and get dressed for bed, wearing only underwear, since you won’t have to deal with children trying to get into your bed in the morning.

You then climb onto the bed and wait for him, turning on the TV and getting comfortable. After a while, he comes out of the room wearing a t-shirt and shorts. He takes in the sight of you in your underwear and he goes straight onto the bed, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.

“Hey, I was watching that!” you protest, pretending to be mad.

“No, I know exactly what you were doing!” he responds back.

He’s right, you were trying to take advantage of the lonely night and he luckily, took the bait. Jillian is officially your favorite sister-in-law now.

[cowboisadness]

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x OC} Chapter 13

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: Micah being Micah

.....

Chapter 13

I couldn’t stop thinking about Arthur's reaction after telling him I wanted to kill that no-good bastard. Currently stood in the cover of Arthurs tent as Miss Grimshaw checked my wound for any infection and helped me apply fresh dressings. She had seen so much of me at this point it didn't bother me anymore. She really was the mother hen of this gang. His reaction was one of confusion at first. His brows furrowed and his mouth hanging open like he had a million questions but didn’t know which one to start with. The moment I began to laugh his expression relaxed, snorting out a laugh along and shaking his head. Like it was a lighthearted joke shared amongst friends. To be honest, I am undecided on if it was a joke or not, I couldn’t see myself going through with something like that but I imagined it none-the-less The rage was true, I felt it from the depths of that pit in my stomach and as it spread throughout me. I wanted him to die, to be rid of him for once and for all, it would be the only thing to quell this feeling. 

My wound travelled from my breastbone and down just shy a couple of inches from my navel. A clean-cut that wasn’t deep enough to require stitches but enough to scar. Another to add to the collection.

Once done I made my way to the scout fire just on the edge of camp. It was hardly used by other members of the camp so the fire was out, everyone preferring to sit amongst each other at the main fire. Kicking the burnt logs on top I collected what I was after, the charcoals that sat at the bottom. Old wood that was burnt for so long and almost starved of oxygen. It was perfect for what I needed. I took my blackened treasure to the lakeside, collecting a pestle and mortar as well as a spare metal cup on the way. Sitting on the small jetty I began to make my concoction, breaking down the charcoal till it was nothing but dust and adding small amounts of water. Mixing it all together till a black paste was formed. I kept at it crushing as much of the charcoal until it was thoroughly mixed. The sun was high in the sky at this point, its rays reflecting off the ripples as it licked the stony shore. I continued what I was doing even as I heard footsteps on the jetty coming towards me. The person stopping just a couple of feet away from me, my back still turned away from whoever it may be. “What you up to girly?”

It was Micah. I had only interacted with him a few times since being here. His comments always seem condescending and slimy. The girls had warned me about him, none of them liked him and actively tried to keep away from him after comments he had made towards each of them. I wouldn’t have guessed he had been here only a handful of months given how he hangs around Dutch like a bad smell. “Charcoal mixed with water. Going to use it as eye makeup to hopefully make me less recognisable while out of camp.” “I thought only whores painted their faces. Whores and clowns.” He sneered 

“They possibly do.”

“Bit of a shame to ruin that young pretty face with makeup don’t you think? If you ever want to leave camp for a drink just come along with me. I’ll make sure to take care of you.” His voice turned lower with seductive tones. Worthy to make the bile from your stomach make its way up and stick to the back of your throat.

“Um, thank you for the offer, Micah, but I think I’ll feel much safer disguising myself somehow no matter who is with me.” I still didn't turn to him, hoping that he would take the hint that I didn't want his company. 

“Suit yourself. But the offer still stands, I’m willing to take you out on the town. Show you how us folks really party. None of that pricey wine and fancy petticoats you’re probably used to.”

I finally turned to him, looking at him deadpan in the hopes he would get the hint. He seemed too as he raised his hands in defeat and began walking backwards back into camp. That man desperately needs to go into town himself and pay for a woman. Hopefully, then he might just be a bit more bearable to converse with. But no woman would be paid enough to lay with that man. 

 Once done I poured the contents into the metal cup then cleaned out the pestle and mortar before returning it. The camp was much quieter than this morning when Sadie threatened to slice up Pearson. Arthur decided to take her out of camp and help with collecting any provisions Pearson needed. Knowing what Sadie had been through, losing her home and husband brutally and thus having her life flipped completely on its head, I wasn’t surprised by her overall behaviour. A once hardworking and happy woman with nothing to lose. I understood that in a way. They both arrived back, Sadie now sporting pants instead of a dress. They both unloaded the wagon and then Arthur was off again to meet Dutch back in Rhodes. I made my way over to the wagon to help organise the provisions and to offer my help in preparing the stew. Give Sadie and Pearson a break from each other. “Nice look you got going on, Sadie.” I smiled at the woman as I approached. She turned towards me, a box of vegetables in her hands. 

“Why, thank you. Thought I would take a leaf outta your book. They are sure more practical than a damn dress.”

“More comfortable too.” She hummed her agreement, placing the box down and then leaning against the wagon and lighting a cigarette. She offered me one to take from the box and I gladly accepted. She lit another match and presented it to me for me to light it with. Smoke quickly fills the air between us. 

“So how are you doing?” She asked, waving the match in the air and then flinging it into the dirt.

“I’ve had worse. What about you?”

“This place is driving me nuts. Glad I could get out for a while. Shooting those no good Raiders that ambushed us helped me relieve some of the rage.”

“You got ambushed?” I looked at her with wide eyes, smoke being exhaled as I spoke. 

“Relax, I ain’t afraid to hold my own...Ain’t afraid of dyin’ neither.”

“Hmm, I knew that feeling once,” I replied, thinking back to that night looking over the balcony railings in Saint Denis. Dying by his hand was a petrifying thought but dying by my own was something I thought about often back then.

“Oh, I got what you asked for. Sumac flowers and beet juice?”

“Thank you so much, Sadie. This is perfect.” I boasted, taking the items from her.

“What you need it for anyway?”

“Sumac and beets are natural dyes. Hoping together they will change my hair colour to a dark red.” 

“Well, that sounds mighty smart.” She smiled, blowing out smoke into the air above and then flinging the cigarette into the dirt along with the matches. We parted ways after that and I began to help Pearson prepare the stew. He seemed considerably more at ease with me as his assistant chef this time around. We exchanged mindless chatter about the weather and what variations of stew he could create. That was until he mentioned his time in the Navy. Once he started he couldn’t stop. But I listened along with a smile on my face and the occasional ‘uh huh’. After the threats he received this morning and gave out no less, I wasn’t in the position to stop him from having this moment of happiness.     Once everything was in the pot and beginning its slow boil, I made my way over to Karen for a towel I could borrow. Collected a fresh pair of clothing and a bar of soap and made my way to the lake. Beet juice and Sumac in hand. I'd crushed the Sumac into a powder after preparing dinner then mixed it in the jar that held the beet juice. It was very dark red, like old blood or wet artists paint. With my dark blonde hair, it should have no problem changing the overall colour while still looking somewhat natural. I’ll look like a new woman no doubt.  I followed along the waters edge until I was out of sight from the camp but still close enough I would be heard if anything was to happen. Placing the towel and soap on an old fallen log I made work on stripping my clothes and dressings, dropping them on the dirt around me. They were sweat-soaked anyway with how hot it can get here during the day. Opening the jar I was met with the powerful smell of beets, that earthy smell along with the scent the sumac was giving off was overwhelming but thankfully not too unpleasant. Making my way into the lake I began pouring the mixture onto the top of my head, making sure to get every strand completely saturated and not paying any mind to how it will stain my skin on the back of my neck and down my back where it lays. Leaving a trail in my path I flung the jar back onto the shore once I was waist-deep. Thankfully the lake remained shallow quite far out, given that I couldn’t get my wound wet. I began to wash, humming to myself at the delightful coolness the water granted. I’m starting to get used to this. Bathing in lakes instead of warm and deep porcelain tubs. Fish surrounding me instead of bubbles and the smell of the earth instead of Lavender hair oils. Although I'd probably be saying the exact opposite if I was in colder climates. I spent more time than I usually would bathing. Cupping the water and letting it pour over my shoulders and arms to wash away the soap and dirt, being careful to avoid the cut as I went. The scabs formed a ridge along my flesh, the skin tight and red around the edges. A constant reminder. 

Leaning back I dipped my head into the water to remove the dye and just hoping it had done its job. The water surrounding me turned the same deep red as I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling out any knots as each digit travelled from the top to the ends. An overwhelming sense of tranquillity washed over me as I looked out beyond the lake to the land ahead and around me. A small flock of ducks milling about further up, diving under the water to catch any small fish swimming below them. I slowly started making my way along, hoping I didn't disturb them. The cool water lapped around my waist and rippled behind me. Perching myself next to a large boulder standing out of the water to watch them as they quacked and ruffled their feathers. I was lost in my thoughts once again for a short while, the sounds of my name being called from the shore behind me bringing me back to where I was. I made my way around the boulder to see Arthur standing at the shore beside my scattered clothing. We saw each other at the same time, my arms coming up to cover myself, him turning around to face away from me. No doubt he saw. I could feel the heat flushing to my face, my cheeks probably as red as my hair should be. “Jesus...are you okay? Your cut opened up?” He asked, fidgeting on his feet as he looked in the direction of camp

“What? Erm, no, I’m fine.” I shook my head. He turned back slowly then, his eyes going everywhere else until they landed on me, then looked down to where my clothes lay.

“W-well what's with the blood all over here?”

“Oh...that’s beet juice. I’m fine, Arthur. I’m coming out in a moment.”

“Okay...Well, Hosea is looking for you.” 

“Okay...Thank you, Arthur.” I said more quietly, my cheeks still burning and my arms wrapped tightly around my chest. His eyes met mine for a moment and I expected him to turn away again like the gentleman he usually is, but he didn't. And neither did i. He inhaled deeply, nodding his head then turned to make his way back to camp with some haste. 

I leaned against the boulder, exhaling a breath I didn't know I was holding in. The chill of the water returning as my body began to cool down.

Despite the embarrassment of what just happened I thought to myself, out of all the men in the camp he was the only one I was glad came looking for me. Anyone else I would be mortified. 

I didn't mind Arthur seeing me like this. I trusted him...I liked him. 

My whole body shivered, goosebumps forming all across my arms and chest. It wasn’t caused by the water or the air was beginning to lower in temperature. 

With my lips curving up into a smidgen of a smile and a quiet sigh I admitted to myself that I liked that he saw me. I wanted him to.

@kashasenpai​

[artificialqueens]

Come Home to My Heart, Chapter 8 (Lemyanka) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 ✨| previous chapters

A/N: wow… I can’t believe there are only two chapters left after this one… that’s crazy. This little story is my baby now so I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading it! <3

-8-

“Ouch!” Scarlett yelled as soon as Priyanka pinched her arm. “What was that for?”

“You’re friends with Lemon on Facebook? What the fuck?”

“Ah, yeah…” She rubbed her arm. “She befriended me a while ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? We live together.”

“I didn’t believe you’d mind and I thought she would add you too. I don’t know, I probably was high as fuck.” Scarlett sipped her Frappuccino.

“You, Kiara, and my mother back-stabbed me. I can’t believe it.”

“If it’s any consolation, she only posts pictures with her friends and when she’s at the dance studio… also, she spends an unhealthy amount of time rambling about The Sims.”

Seemed about right.

“I’m more worried about the pictures I appear as «tagged» on your page.”

“Yeah, you’re like a hot mess there.”

Priyanka and Scarlett went for a beverage that afternoon after stopping by the mechanical workshop to check on Priyanka’s car –it was still uncertain and the mechanic had ordered a few pieces that were supposed to arrive later that week- luckily her parents had lent her the family car for the afternoon.

Priyanka had ordered a strawberry smoothie but almost forgot about it. Her thoughts were somewhere else.

“Priyanka, are you there?” Scarlett called her.

“Yeah, sorry…”

“Girl, you’re like… gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“Uhm…”

Scarlett sat with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. She had cut her hair recently and the tips of her blonde bob were perfectly symmetric, it was almost in discordance with her rock-star-punk-grunge aesthetic of ripped fishnets, piercings, and leather jackets but Priyanka knew her better, she was just a softie who had cried with The Little Mermaid.

Goddammit. Don’t you see the subtext of female liberation, Priyanka? She had said with tears in her eyes.

“Nothing… only that you’ve been distracted lately. How weird is it that this behavior coincides with the return of certain someone to your life? Odd, isn’t it?”

“Cut the sarcasm… I know what you’re implying. Lemon helped me out the other day only because that’s what any person would’ve done.”

“No, you’re overestimating human kindness. Trust me, spending your entire afternoon with someone to help them with their… how did she call it?”

“Jalopy.”

“I mean, accurate.” Priyanka stuck her tongue out. “What I’m saying is that’s a big gesture and you should take it as a white flag from her.”

“When you’re right, you’re right.”

“So… what are you going to do now?” Scarlett inquired.

“I have no idea… You’re the second person who said something like that. Denali thought she was provoking me the other night in the club –she’s out of her mind- but she also said that I should make the next move.”

“I agree.”

“But what if I make a fool of myself in the process?”

“That wouldn’t be a novelty.”

“Fuck you.”

Scarlett lighted up a cigarette.

Right at that moment, Boa walked out of the café with an Iced Americano in her hand, she spotted both girls sitting outside and approached them.

“Hey, you two! I was going to text you later today.” She greeted both of them.

“Hey, girl.” Scarlett waved.

“Hi, Boa! Nice to see you.” Priyanka hugged her.

“So listen, some of the girls –myself included- are planning a little day at that lake that’s like half an hour from here and since the more the merrier, maybe you’d want to join us.”

“Sounds cool. Do you have a date in mind?”

“We set Thursday but if any of you guys can’t we could change it.”

“No, I think Thursday is fine for all of us. Priyanka?”

Priyanka had her thoughts floating like a cloud.

“When you say «some of the girls»… you mean?”

“Tynomi, Kyne, me…” She began listing.

“Boa we’re looking for a name started with «L», five letters, common yellow fruit used often in the kitchen.” Priyanka elbowed Scarlett.

“Oh! Yeah… We’re trying to convince Lemon to go too. She wasn’t into the whole nature thing but…” She cleared her throat. “If we convinced some more people maybe she’d change her mind.”

“Great so we’ll be there.” Scarlett wrapped her arm around Priyanka. “Text me the details later.”

“Sure, see you on Thursday!”

“Bye…” Priyanka smiled and when the girl walked away, she immediately turned to Scarlett. “What was that?”

“«Thank you, Scarlett, you’re such a good friend» you’re very welcome, Priyanka.” She put out her cigarette. “I did what it had to be done.”

“I see… but what if Lemon doesn’t show up?”

“She will be there and even if she doesn’t we could still have a nice day on the lake or whatever. Jeez, do I need to give you a pep talk whenever we plan something?”

“We’ll need a car, I can’t borrow my parent’s car all week and you came here by bus. Can Juice drive us there?”

“Yeah about that… Juice broke up with me.”

Priyanka frowned. “I thought you guys weren’t dating.”

“We weren’t, that’s why she gave me an ultimatum.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“I said I’d think about it.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“She agrees with you, obviously.” Scarlett leaned back on the chair. “However, I never wanted to break her heart with promises I wasn’t sure I was going to fulfill. I never promised her more than what I gave and it worked for some time.”

“Until it didn’t…”

It wasn’t shocking for Priyanka, she had always known that Juice wanted more but Scarlett –being the stubborn she was- never was going to admit she felt the same way, instead, she acted reluctant whenever the idea of having a serious relationship was brought.

“Scarlett, are you sure this is what you want?”

“Listen, what’s the point of starting a relationship with someone who doesn’t live in the same city.”

“She lives literally half an hour from Toronto.”

“Besides, I don’t want to give my freedom away… I don’t see myself ready to be in a relationship and you can’t say anything, you haven’t dated anyone for more than three days.” Scarlett pointed.

“Well, you got me there but this isn’t about me… don’t you see it? You’re about to lose something real and why? Because you’re scared of admitting you want it too.”

Scarlett looked down. “She deserves better than me…” She whispered.

“You idiot, she doesn’t want better, she wants you and you alone.”

“I feel like you’re insulting me somewhere there but…”

“Scarlett, focus.”

“You’re right, okay? I’m scared, I don’t want to hurt her and I’m terrified I might be too stupid to make a mistake or something… and now I don’t know what to do, I’m not a romantic person, I know nothing about big gestures…”

“Maybe roses? Carriage rides? Singing songs under the starry sky?”

“Gross…” She paused. “maybe roses though.”

“You did set the bar very low so…”

“Oh, shut up.”

“C’mon, I’ll drop you at her house.”

After taking Scarlett back to Juice’s house for what hopefully meant there would be a reconciliation between them –Priyanka had her fingers crossed- in the meantime, she stopped by her brother’s house. She had promised one of her nieces she’d take her to rent some DVDs they would watch after dinner.

It took less than five minutes to lose her at the video store.

“Mel? Mel?!” She started looking around. “Where did you go?”

Priyanka heard her voice coming from one parallel aisle.

“You’re very pretty.”

“Aw, thank you…you’re very pretty too.”

Priyanka also recognized that voice.

“Are you lost?”

She felt undoubtedly relieved when she found her niece chatting with Lemon who had kneeled on the floor to be at the same height.

“What’s your name?” Lemon asked the little girl.

“I’m Melanie.”

“Nice to meet you, Melanie. I’m Lemon, like the fruit.”

“Nice to meet you… Miss Lemon.”

“Did you come here with your mom? With your dad?”

She shook her head. “With my auntie.”

“Ah, I see… What do you say if we look for your auntie?”

“She’s right there.” She pointed at Priyanka behind her.

Lemon turned around and met the brunette’s eyes.

“Oh. It’s you, auntie… I should’ve guessed.”

“The resemblance is uncanny, isn’t it?” Priyanka smiled proudly.

Lemon was wearing a yellow and white striped long dress with buttons in the front, white sneakers, and had her hair tied in a French braid.

“You really convinced your brother to name his daughter like two-fifths of the Spice Girls, didn’t you?”

Priyanka rushed and covered her niece’s ears. “Shhhh… He doesn’t know that yet. It took me seven of the nine months of my sister-in-law’s pregnancy to plant the idea… neither Ginger nor Emma were working, so it was down to Melanie or Victoria.”

Lemon chuckled.

The brunette released the little girl from her grip. “Mel, go pick the movie you like but stay close where I can see you, alright?”

The little girl nodded and skipped with joy toward the kids’ movie section.

Priyanka looked at Lemon. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting my nails done, obviously.” She had a DVD box in her hands.

Priyanka rolled her eyes. “Knowing you, it must be… let me see, either Legally Blonde, Clueless, something with Meg Ryan on it, or… Drop Dead Gorgeous.”

She showed the title on the box. It was Drop Dead Gorgeous, a movie Lemon worshiped for her love for beauty pageants and bizarre humor.

“Rita has never watched it, can you believe it?”

“And you’re looking for new ways to traumatize her.”

“That might be my mission on Earth all along, spread the words of wisdom that come from this film.” She tapped the box with her acrylic nails.

Priyanka peeped over her shoulder to check on her niece who was still deciding between two Disney movies.

“So… are you going to the lake thing Boa’s planning?” The brunette asked as casually as she could.

Lemon shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not that into nature and being eaten by bugs…”

“Oh, so she’s a city girl now.”

“Listen, I spent a good ten years of my life going camping with my dad and hating every second of it. I thought it was finally over when I moved.”

“The girls and I are going… and I’m sure we’re taking some type of booze with us, snacks, a campfire… It will be fun.”

Lemon tilted her head. “I didn’t know you wanted me to go.”

Priyanka felt the heat on her cheeks. “Boa said the more the merrier… plus my car is still at the workshop and Scarlett might have screwed up her relationship with the one person that has a car among us.”

“So you need a ride… that’s it?”

“Yeah… and it’ll be fun being all together again.”

“Sure… okay. I’ll tell Rita and we’ll be there.”

“Really?”

She nodded.

At that moment, Priyanka’s niece returned with a DVD of Brave in her hand.

“Are you dating my auntie Pri?” She asked unscrupulous and unfiltered like any six-year-old.

Priyanka’s mouth dropped to the floor.

“Mel! You can’t ask people… That’s not… You don’t get to…”

“But daddy said that you like girls and that if you were going to date someone it would be a girl… and she’s a girl.”

Logic.

Lemon covered her mouth with her hand, she was blushing underneath.

“Mel just because I’m talking to a girl it doesn’t mean that I’m dating her.”

“But she’s pretty… she’s prettier than you.”

“Oh, I like her.” Lemon giggled.

“Hey! You little brat, who’s the one renting movies with you.”

Traitors.

“Why aren’t you dating her, auntie Pri?” Priyanka covered the girl’s mouth.

She was asking the real questions.

“Okay, I think it’s time to go home. Brave, huh? Good choice.” She looked at Lemon. “See you on Thursday…?”

The blonde smiled. “I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay, great.”

“Goodbye, Priyanka. Bye, Mel.” She waved at them.

The girl barely had the chance to wave back since her aunt dragged her to the line of the checkout counter. She stared at Priyanka with her wide brown eyes.

“What is it?”

“You like her.” Mel said with a mischievous look on her face.

“Shhh… keep it low…” She looked around to check Lemon wasn’t around. “You can’t just say those things, Mel. Exposing people’s feelings isn’t right.”

“So you like her.”

“Jeez, calm down Regina George.”

“Who’s Regina Gorge?”

“It doesn’t matter… The thing is… Lemon and I are… friends? Just that, okay? We’ve known each other since we were your age and I don’t think she likes me that way.”

“Have you asked her?” Her niece inquired.

“Well, no…”

“Why not?”

“Because…” She was scared of the potential answer to that question. “It’s complicated… growing up is complicated.”

“I don’t want to grow up never.” She whined.

“Me neither.”

Priyanka took the DVD to register it and pay for it.

Brave, sure.

On Thursday morning, Priyanka received a call from Scarlett, she explained that things with Juice were smooth sailing and that –since they had left the problems aside- she was going to pick her at home. In the car, there were Juice, Scarlett, Kiara, Denali, and Priyanka whereas Lemon and Rita had relocated in a different car.

The day started on the wrong foot since that change in scheduling but Priyanka had the hope it could only get better from there. She had a full breakfast with her parents and then prepared her things in a backpack, including sunscreen, snacks, a towel, and things only her mom could remember to include –and that she yelled from downstairs to make sure Priyanka would remember.

Priyanka brushed her hair and tied it into a ponytail, then she put her turquoise bikini on –she liked how the color looked against her skin-, grabbed a pair of denim shorts with embroidered flowers and a white cotton tank top. She found a pair of aviator sunglasses on the drawer of her room that were definitely her sister’s –emphasis on the «were»- and with a pair of flip-flops, she was ready.

Boa had said that it was allowed to swim on the lake where the water was shallow and that there was a lifeguard just in case. The weather was in their favor, the day was all warm and sunny even when it started with a couple of clouds, it had cleared up since then. Her mother reminded her to take a light jacket with her because it could get colder during the evening.

Priyanka was about to argue with her when she heard the sound of the horn outside. She put the jacket on her backpack and said goodbye to her mom before opening the entrance door.

To her surprise, there was an egg yolk car parked in front of her house.

Lemon rolled down her window. “Get in loser, we’re going to a lake… for some reason.”

She had a pair of heart-shaped pink sunglasses resting on top of her head and a lollipop on her hand.

“What is this?”

“I told you I was going to pick you up.” She unlocked the passenger’s door.

Priyanka got in the car and buckled up. Her entire body was tingling.

“I thought you were sharing a car with the other girls.”

“Don’t change the plans I’ve already set, I’m a Virgo.”

“Don’t you have a bumper sticker with that written on it?”

“I’m glad someone has finally seen it.”

Priyanka threw her backpack on the backseat and noticed how empty it was.

“Wait, what about Rita? Wasn’t she coming with you?”

Lemon got the car moving.

“No, I pushed her down the stairs yesterday.” She said, dead serious. “I’m just kidding; I went to pick some things from Tynomi’s place, Kiara and she were speaking in French and got along well so she decided to go with them. Because of that, I have the trunk full with two coolers and their bags so –for their own good- I hope they gave me the right address.”

Just then it hit Priyanka it was just the two of them for the next half hour.

Lemon looked lovely with a yellow poplin puff-sleeve crop top with little lemons embroidered around the neckline and a pair of navy paper bag shorts. The strips of a bright yellow swimsuit could be seen underneath her clothes and she was driving with sneakers because driving with flip-flops is hell but overall the look screamed summer in the Italian Riviera with a glass of limoncello.

And well, Priyanka was gay and thirsty.

“Did you hear what I said?” Lemon asked raising an eyebrow when they stopped in a red traffic light.

“Something about music…?” It was a wild guess and she would be lying if she said her fingers weren’t crossed.

“Yes, can you put something on the radio?”

Priyanka scanned the CDs on the glove compartment and finally decided for the always great Good Girl Gone Bad –just because she wanted Shut Up and Drive to play while Lemon was driving- and because it had some iconic bops.

“Are you certain about the route we’re taking?” The brunette asked.

“What do you mean?” Lemon clicked her tongue. “I know how to follow directions. I also have a map… I’m a strong independent woman who needs no instruction on how to get to a stupid lake in the middle of nowhere-”

“Hello, my friend and I are lost; do you know which is the best way to get to the lake?” Priyanka had to pat herself on the back for that level of fake kindness, she even batted her lashes.

Lemon, on the driver’s seat, kept grumbling something in a low voice.

“Yeah, you’re almost there, it’s five minutes from here… you have to take the next entry to the left and then continue straight forward. You’ll be there in the blink of an eye.”

“Thanks, good man. We appreciate it.” She waved at the man at the gas station. Then she turned to Lemon. “You see? It wasn’t that difficult.”

“We were almost there.”

“Yes, except for the fact that we’ve been driving around in circles for the past fifteen minutes. I told you it was the right entry.”

Lemon huffed and puffed like a child.

Priyanka attempted to skip one of the songs but the blonde interfered by pushing her hand aside. Priyanka crossed her arms on her chest and pretended to be offended.

Just like the man had said, in no time they spotted the lake entrance.

Lemon sighed of relief while Priyanka cheered.

“Yay! We made it!”

Once they got closer, they agreed it was all worthy. The beautiful scenery of the lake with crystalline blue water framed by the rows of mountains covered in green and leafy pine trees left them in awe.

A figure waved at them –probably one of the girls- they were gathered in a small semicircle that resembled a beach with dirt and gravel next to a wooden port. There were other people around, families, some kids playing in the water, swimmers, boats, and canoes.

Lemon parked the car in an empty spot among others, some of the girls helped them with the coolers and the bags that were on the truck.

“Good night, ladies.” Scarlett mocked.

“You two finally made it.” Boa grabbed one of the coolers with the other girl’s help.

Priyanka was about to say something about their delay in the same joking tone but she caught a glimpse of Lemon, she was serious, noticeably embarrassed by the situation. So instead, she cackled and played it down.

“Yeah, can you believe I told her the wrong entry on the highway? Lemon almost killed me we were spinning around for like fifteen minutes, right?” She looked at the blonde and subtly winked.

“Ah, yeah…” Lemon’s eyes were big just like a deer caught in headlights, the tips of her ears turned red just like her cheeks. “But we’re here… so… it doesn’t matter.”

“Priyanka you dumbass, we’ve come this way before.” Scarlett nagged her.

“Oh, shut up… I forgot.” She picked her backpack and threw it over her shoulder. Lemon hadn’t moved. “Hey, let’s go. We have all day ahead.”

The blonde nodded and locked the car before following them to the port.

The view was even more breathtaking up close as the sunlight shone onto the waters of the lake, it also glinted on the gold rims of Priyanka’s glasses and bathed her completely in a warm sensation.

They were received with cheers –especially since they have the food on the coolers and it was almost noon-, she saw Kiara applying some suntan oil and chatting with Rita and Starzy over a small wooden harbor, as soon as Scarlett and Boa arrived with the cooler, the blonde started an argument with Ilona over the best way to ensemble a tent –and repeatedly called each other “sis”-, Kyne, Tynomi and Juice ignored them and started setting a grill.

“You didn’t have to lie to cover my blunder.” Lemon whispered.

“I know.” Priyanka stretched her arms. “I figured you’ve suffered enough for one morning. If you’re feeling generous you can get me a drink or something in return.”

Lemon scoffed. “Get it yourself.” She started walking to where Rita, Starzy, and Kiara were but before she was further in distance, she turned around. “Thank you, though.”

Priyanka smiled at her and then went to help the other girls with the food. They entrusted her washing the vegetables at some gazebo nearby with a little kitchen and a sink. Tynomi helped her peeling and cutting once she was done and then they prepared the skewers. Scarlett’s pyromania was helpful to light the fire, although the flame that rose in the air caused quite a fuss.

Right when Priyanka put the last skewer on the trade for Tynomi to take it to the grill, a paper cup with pink lemonade and ice appeared in front of her, Lemon held it steadily.

“Oh, hey there.” Priyanka took a sip, it was sweet and it had something that kicked in. “Thank goodness this has alcohol on it.”

“It’s vodka, careful with the empty stomach, though.”

“Signature cocktail?”

Lemon shrugged. “I guess it falls into the category of colorful and sugary.”

“I don’t know if it’s because it’s hot as fuck but this is actually delicious.”

“Of course it’s delicious, I made it.”

“That’s obvious; you can taste the modesty on it.” Lemon made a childish grimace. “Have you jumped in the water yet?”

“I just soaked my feet for a little.”

“And?”

“Cold like a penguin’s butt.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

Lemon took the cup back and drank a sip, her lip gloss stained the material. She kept biting her bottom lip as if she wanted to say something but she sneaked out to help Boa with something when Priyanka wasn’t looking.

In that part of the lake it was allowed to camp and there were several tents set around the land, there were also a couple of forest rangers roaming around –probably attracted by the fake fire alarm- but the girls had been clever enough to keep the bottles saved in the coolers.  They all ate vegetable skewers and hamburgers sitting in a big circle and drank beer and cranberry vodka in paper cups.

Someone had brought a radio and they all sang Stars Are Blind when it played. After having lunch they stayed there reminiscing and telling stories from school. They were all laughing and cracking jokes it took Priyanka by surprise when the story of her seven minutes in heaven was brought.

“More like seven minutes in hell.” She gagged.

She re-told the story for those who hadn’t heard it and then realized that Lemon was among those people. The blonde hadn’t said a word since she started her narration, in fact, she paid attention to every word that came out of her mouth. She didn’t laugh when Priyanka tried to minimize she kissed a guy she didn’t want to kiss or when she tried to use the humor as a shield as she had done before.

“What an asshole.” She said when the brunette finished the story. She was angry and it showed. She was so mad she had sobered up.

“Yeah… but on the bright side… that helped me realize things. It was enlightening, I dare to say… even when that closet was dark as fuck.”

“Still… I hope he chokes or something.” Lemon was fuming.

Later on, Ilona exposed Scarlett who had claimed to be in detention many times in high school when she was just in the library, studying. Even when she tried to argue, Priyanka caught her friend sitting right next to Juice as she tenderly held her and stroked her hand with her thumb. She assumed things were alright with them now and couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of what they had.

Vodka, it’s me… I have seen what you did for others…

Lemon told a story about one time she got lost in the subway with their friends and they almost ended in Staten Island –Priyanka refrained from commenting on the fact that Lemon wasn’t good at following indications, indeed- and Denali, the only non-Canadian of their panel discussion mentioned it had happened to her as well.

“I’ll be in New York for a competition in a few months.”

“You should come to visit me.” Lemon smiled brightly.

“That would be fun… Priyanka could come as well.” She stared at the brunette who gaped at her in surprise. “And tell me, do you have any single friend?”

“I’ve got some… yeah. I could make some arrangements.”

“I’d love that.”

“Slut-Nali.”

“Proudly.”

Later during the afternoon, some of the girls were brave enough to try to dive in the shallow waters of the lake, Priyanka among them, and, she regretted the moment her body made contact with the glistening surface but once her body was fully immersed it was like a shot of adrenaline in her body.

She surely looked like she had seen a ghost when she emerged because Lemon laughed loudly at her. The blonde was cozily sunbathing on the shoreline at an unsafe distance for someone mocking the swimmers.

Priyanka moved her arms toward her.

“Don’t you dare… Priyanka, I swear to God if you even try-”

The cold droplets touched her skin before she could finish that sentence.

The blonde squirmed and squealed.

“Bitch…” She shook the water off her body.

“Who’s laughing now?” She moved like a fish in the water.

“You won’t be laughing when you need your towel to get out.” Lemon waved it like a flag.

“Listen, you…” Priyanka started walking out of the water, the other girl was already running.

It was way colder out of the water and it took the brunette a minute to get used to, get her flip flops, and chase after Lemon who still had her towel on her hands. She hid behind Rita and stuck her tongue out, the girl caught in the middle raised her hands in a sign of rendition. They were like a couple of kids. Priyanka was about to say something when Scarlett and Juice came near them.

“Hey, we rented a boat over there and we were wondering if you would like to come with us.” Juice grinned.

“I pass, I’m not going on a boat ride with these two.” Rita pointed at them, Lemon was still looking over her shoulder.

“Pri, Lemon? What about you?”

“Sure… it would be fun, as soon as this bitch gives me my towel back.” Priyanka cast an accusing glance at the blonde.

Lemon threw the towel directly to her face.

“What’s so thrilling about a boat ride?” She asked while Priyanka wrapped herself in the towel.

“You said the same about coming here today and yet you’re having a good time, right?” Lemon shrugged. “C’mon, I’m not going to push you in the water or something.”

“Now I know for a fact that you’ll try to push me into the water.”

“Are you possibly scared?” She taunted.

“I’m not scared of a boat if that’s what you’re saying.”

“It’s settled then, we’ll meet you in five minutes over the pier where the boats are moored.” Scarlett grabbed Juice’s hand and they walked away.

Priyanka put her shorts and sunglasses on; she grabbed her bag and hung it over her shoulder. She checked on Lemon when she was done putting clothes on too.

“Ready?”

The blonde hesitated for a moment. “I guess.”

“Listen, there’s really nothing to be scared of, we’ll get life jackets and everything.”

“That’s not- Never mind.” She shook her head and grabbed her things. “Let’s go.”

Juice and Scarlett were already waiting for them with their life jackets on, they explained to the girls how to put them on.

“You two get in the boat and we’ll untie the knots and push it in the water.” Scarlett indicated.

The boat was made of wood and painted in white with matching paddles, the name Perseverance was written in blue on one of the sides.

Lemon sat first and she helped Priyanka to get in.

“Did you know it’s bad luck to change a boat’s name?” She told Priyanka. “It’s said they always sink if you do.”

“We should double-check this isn’t repainted or something underneath, right?”

“Why? Are you scared?” Lemon mocked.

Priyanka elbowed her.

Juice was done with the knot and she jumped in the water to help Scarlett.

“Okay, one, two… three.” They pushed the boat that swayed a little with the waves before stabilizing.

“Have fun you two!” Juice waved at them.

“Wait…” It took Priyanka a moment before understanding what was going on. “Hey!”

“Oh my God…”

The girls behind were cackling as the boat was carried further by the water stream.

“I think we’ve been set up.”

“There might be a chance, yeah.”

Scarlett mouthed a soft «Sorry» but Priyanka knew she wasn’t regretting anything. This had to be planned beforehand and she had a vague idea what the point was. She stared at Lemon who had picked up one of the paddles and was examining it.

“Do you think we can go back?”

“I doubt that we can row against this current.” She declared after taking a look at how the water kept taking them away from the coast. “Our best chance is to let it drag us down to calmer waters where we can paddle from to the closest coast.”

“You really learned a few scout things when you were camping with your dad, didn’t you?”

“Aren’t you glad I did?” She smirked.

Certainly, Priyanka was glad because at least one of them had a clue of what to do and how to get them out of that situation but, at the same time, it meant that they were going to be stuck for a while in that boat.

As they started moving away from the coast, the silhouettes of his friends became blurry and they were surrounded by the vast scenery of the mountains and the woods. The sun was lukewarm and the little waves rocked the boat like a cradle, it was soothing.

Priyanka laid on the floorboards and looked at the clouds crossing the sky. Lemon watched the water around the boat to eventually join the brunette.

“This is nice,” Priyanka whispered. “I think it’s the longest we’ve been without arguing or bitching.”

Lemon chuckled. Priyanka looked at her and could see every detail of her face, the curve of her lips the little mole over them, the tip of her nose, the length of her lashes, the color of her eyes…

Suddenly she felt shy.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that I can be an annoying bitch sometimes but you’re the one person that’s always there for me…” Lemon murmured.

Priyanka’s cheeks turned red. “What?”

“That’s the first line of the last e-mail I wrote for you after we… drifted apart.”

“I never received it.”

“I never sent it.” She fidgeted nervously. “I don’t know if it would have made any difference, you seemed pretty determined to me.”

So they were going to talk about it. It was the conversation neither of them had brought up for the longest time but it was there, lingering in the air like a dark cloud of unsolved problems.

“I needed to put some distance between us…” Priyanka felt the unavoidable knot on her throat like whenever someone touched the subject. “I wasn’t being honest with you… I was scared. You had these plans that didn’t include me in your future, I felt like I was being left out while my plans always included you.”

“Priyanka, I had to move forward to survive… Yes, I met new people, I made new friends and I set new goals but you were never out of the picture. It was difficult for me because I don’t know, you were always the one that everyone liked instantly and you made friends in a heartbeat without even trying it. Your friends were our friends because of that but when I was on my own… I feel like I’m more an acquired taste, people tend to like me better when they know me but until then…”

She sighed.

“I had these problems that seemed small in proportion and I didn’t want to become a burden for you, being so far away from each other. I just wanted to share the good parts. You were the only thing in my life that felt like a constant and then… you were gone.”

She looked at Lemon in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever apologized for that. And just for the record, small problems, big problems… I should’ve been there for you no matter what. Back in the day, I don’t know… it’s not an excuse but I felt like it was easier to push you away and that you got to live a life without me at some point.”

“Why?” Lemon frowned.

“I don’t know.” Priyanka lied. “I didn’t want to be a burden either.”

“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t know what to expect when I saw you here but, these last couple of days I realized how much I had missed you. I wrote that in the e-mail too, I wish I had sent it.”

Priyanka’s heart skipped a beat.

“Me too.” The brunette spoke clearly. “I’m freaking proud of you and everything you’ve achieved… What I’ve heard because I didn’t befriend your New York friends on Facebook to find out.”

“They were my friends too. I didn’t add them only to stalk you or something like that. And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing amazing too… aside from that car of yours.”

“Laugh all you want but I bought that car to go visit you in New York someday.”

Lemon sat straight on the boat. “You were going to drive all the way there in that to visit me? That counts as risking your life, you know?”

“Well… yeah… that was the idea. I wanted to see you.” Priyanka sat down as well.

“Pri…”

“And you only came back for your dad’s wedding… why did you come back now? After so long?”

“My dad’s wedding was… an event. It would’ve been fun to have you there though, there was so much booze.”

“They can always renew their vows.”

Lemon laughed. “Well, and as I told you before, my mom was going on a cruise ship so I wanted to visit everyone here. The fact that it coincided with your visit was mind-blowing for me too.”

“Were you mad?”

“Yes, I was fuming.”

They both started laughing at loud.

“I’m not going to lie I did want to start a fight that day in the dining… and later on the club… and on the cereal aisle…”

Priyanka threw water from the lake at the girl’s face.

“Hey! Don’t!” Lemon shook her head. “I think it got on my eyes wait…”

“Oh no, sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

Priyanka got closer but at that moment the other girl counterattacked with some more water.

“Bitch…”

“You deserved it.” She cleaned some drops. “But I think it really got on my eyes, can you hand me my bag.”

Priyanka’s face was still wet but she did as she asked.

“Shit, my contact lenses are falling.” She looked through her bag until she found the container.

“Do you need help with that?”

“No, just a second…” She removed both contact lenses and saved them back. “Better.”

“I’m over here.” Priyanka mocked.

“Fine… I can’t see beyond my hand.”

“I know that.”

“Could you get me my glasses? They are there, somewhere…”

“Yeah, let me…”

Lemon’s bag had lip gloss, sunscreen, candy… transparent frame glasses.

“Here.” She put them in her hand.

“Don’t make fun of me.” She mumbled. “I never wear these in public…”

“Lemon, I’ve known you for ages I do remember how you look like with glasses on.”

Priyanka took them back and opened the temples before placing them gently on the blonde’s face. She adjusted the nose pads above her nose and removed some hairs out of her face.

“There,” She looked proud of her work. “See, nothing less than stunning.”

Lemon had a beaming smile on her face, she’d never look bad with or without glasses on.

She didn’t realize how close they were until Lemon batted her lashes. She could’ve kissed her right there but instead, she just moved away with her pulse running wild and her face feeling hot and no sunshine to blame for it.

The blonde extended her little finger as a white flag. “Are we good?”

Priyanka sighed with relief. “Best friends forever.” She sealed the pinky promise.

However, the word «friends» tasted bitter on her tongue.

“That’s right.” She was still holding their fingers together. “Priyanka and Lemon, Lemon and Priyanka.”

“You won’t happen to have something to eat in that bag of yours, will you?”

“I think I packed some Oreos this morning.”

“You’re my hero.”

It was almost sunset by the time they got back to the coast and they still had to border the lake to get back where the other girls were. Nonetheless, the setting of the sun was a spectacle they watched in awe as the daytime ended with the sun’s departure.

It was starting to get cold and Priyanka was the only one who had brought a jacket so she lent it to Lemon –it looked a bit oversized but she still looked good on it.

They walked for a little before meeting the rest of the group, luckily the place was fully enlightened and they had made sure they hadn’t gone too far to lose sight of the camping area. The other girls welcomed them back with a big cheer, some of them were already setting a little fire to toast marshmallows and sing songs with a guitar.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Lemon headed to the public toilet while Priyanka joined the circle around the bonfire.

“So…” Denali sat next to her right away. “How did that go?”

“You knew.” Priyanka crossed her arms on her chest. “I can’t believe it, y’all helped to orchestrate this stunt.”

“…maybe. But it was for a good cause.”

“Which one?”

“Getting you a girlfriend.”

Priyanka rolled her eyes.

“I swear…”

“What happened over there?” Scarlett, Kiara, and Juice surrounded her like a group of teenagers.

“She doesn’t want to spill the details.”

“That’s because nothing happened and you should mind your own business.”

“What do you mean nothing happened? You two were there for like two hours.”

“We did talk about why we first fought and other things but it’s nothing close to what you think so you should drop it. I’m being serious right now.” She cleared her throat. “Lemon and I are friends… that’s it. Don’t try to push it further because it’s not going to happen.”

It was clear at that point that fixing their friendship was more important than risking her feelings; maybe she could tell Lemon one day and they could laugh about it just like they had done earlier but, at that moment, things were very recent and fragile to drop any more information into the mix. Priyanka wanted to have her on her life and she wasn’t going to lose her best friend over some unrequited love she had.

If she had dealt with it most of her life, she surely could do it again.

The girls protested but they sat back in their places. Lemon joined them shortly after, she sat next to Priyanka, the sleeves of her jacket looked like sweater paws on her.

“Hey, do you mind going back with the girls? I was talking to Rita and she’s kind of tired so I’m going home with her.”

“Oh, sure. No problem. Is she alright?”

“Yeah, just tired and maybe sunburn. I don’t want to drive when it’s too late either.”

“Alright. Are you still coming to dinner with my family? My mom said she’ll be waiting for you.”

“Saturday, right? I’ll be there.” She smiled. “I’m really glad we got to talk today, Pri.”

“Me too.”

She hugged her Lemon before she left; the blonde then greeted everyone else.

Priyanka watched in silence as the yellow car left the park.

Her heart shrunk, this was the right thing to do, they were friends again, and yet… she felt empty inside.

[5hfanfiction]

The Golden Rose (Chapter 6)

Lauren hated Tuesdays for many reasons. They were just a second Monday. For awhile, Tuesdays became Lauren’s favorite day because it was the only day she could spend alone with Lucy. Lucy would always pick up a pizza and they would watch Beauty and The Beast while cuddled up with each other. Only once or twice did they ever watch a different movie, but they always ended up changing it to Beauty and The Beast before the night ended. It was their movie. 

A few months prior to Lucy’s passing, their movie nights became fewer and farther between until they eventually stopped. Still, Lauren continued watching in the movie in hope that Lucy would end up coming. Only once did Lauren not watch that movie on a Tuesday and that was the night of Lucy’s death. 

On this particular Tuesday, Lauren made it a movie marathon. She felt physically and emotionally sick to do anything, but lay up on the couch. The teacher inside of her wanted to go and do her job, especially as this was only the third day with her class, but she knew she wasn’t stable enough to deal with them. Even her roommates agreed she shouldn’t go in. 

Lauren wrapped her blue plaid blanket tightly around her cold body and leaned her head back against the couch cushion. She closed her eyes tightly as she tried to get through the pain from her pounding headache. The didn’t fully go away, but it eased up a bit in time for her favorite scene. 

“There never was a story of more woe, then this of Juillet and her Romeo.”

“Could you read it again?”

“Well here, why don’t you read it to me?”

“U-u-uh, Alright… Hmph… em… I-I can’t…”

“You mean you never learned?”

“I learned… a little… it’s just been SO long…”

“Well here I’ll help you! Let’s start here.”

“Here… hmph… ‘kay… "twoh”…“

"Two.”

“Oh, two… I knew that…”

As the scene ended, a loud knock came from the front door. The door slowly started to creak open before Lauren could get up from the couch.

“Lauren,” Camila’s soft voice sang as she slowly walked into the apartment with a bag full of food.

“Hi,” Lauren said as Camila shut the door behind her. 

“Dinah said you didn’t come in because you weren’t feeling well, so I decided to come over and check on you.”

“You didn’t have to,” Lauren said as she got up from her spot and walked over to the kitchen. 

“I know, but I want too. I stopped at Panera on the way here and grabbed an assortment of things,” Camila said as she pulled out a bowl of mac and cheese and chicken noodle soup, two turkey sandwiches, and two flower cookies. “Dinah didn’t go into what type of sickness you had so I grabbed some of my favorites." 

"Thank you, Mila,” Lauren smiled brightly, no one had ever came to check on her before, and to add food to equation it was like a dream.

“Are you feeling okay? Do you have a temperature? Stomachache?”

“I’m fine,” Lauren assured. “A bit of a headache from stress and other things,” she went on, not going into too much details.

“I couldn’t find any of the craft supplies needed for the craft today so the kids and I decided to do something else with our time,” Camila said as she handed Lauren a stack of get well cards.

Lauren smiled down at the first card. On the top half it said, “Ms Larn” with a heart around it, and on the bottom half was her and the student holding hands at what looked like the school playground.

“This is the best gift ever,” Lauren thanked as she placed the cards on the table, making a mental note to read the rest of them after she finished lunch. 

“I thought you would like it,” Camila laughed as she took the lid off the mac and cheese. “Do you have any forks?”

“In the drawer to the left of the oven,” Lauren said before walked over and grabbed some utensils for the both of them. 

“Is that Beauty and The Beast?” Camila questioned as she placed the utensils down on the counter.

“Yeah,” Lauren answered as she looked back at the screen.

“That’s one of my favorite Disney movies. Mind if I watch?”

“No, make yourself at home,” Lauren said as Camila walked over to the couch. Lauren grabbed two juice boxes from the fridge and one of the turkey sandwiches before plopping herself down on the couch next to Camila. 

“When I was younger I used to think I was Belle,” Camila shared as Lauren restarted the movie from the beginning. “I used to sing the opening song all the time and run around my house like it was my village.”

“Aww,” Lauren cooed. “You kinda look like Belle with your big brown eyes and wavy brown eyes.”

“Plus I love to read and I’ll practically do anything for my family. We are literally the same person.”

“You never mentioned you liked to read,” Lauren said before taking a bite of her sandwich.

“I love to read. I’ve probably read every book out there.”

Lauren swallowed the piece of food in her mouth before continuing the conversation. “What’s your favorite book?”

“I don’t have a favorite book. I love all of them, well most of them. I really enjoy the Harry Potter series.”

“I’ve finished half of the first book. The movies are really good though.”

“Fake,” Camila drawled out as she carefully nudged the green-eyed girl. 

“Well if you’re really like Belle then you should read to me.”

“You can read.”

“I rather you read to me.”

“Maybe I could read a chapter and then you could read a chapter,” Camila suggested. Although Lauren wanted to hear Camila’s voice nonstop she decided it would only be fair.

“Fine.”

“I can bring over the first book then time we hang out if you want. I have majority of them.”

“Majority?”

“Yeah,” Camila answered. “My dog got into my room a few years ago and got ahold of the book sitting on my bed. It was the third book, my favorite book, so I was pretty devastated when it happened. I’ve always wanted to get a new one but always forgot.”

“I’ll get it for you,” Lauren replied as she grabbed her phone off the coffee table.

“No Lauren, you don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“What’s the third book called?” Lauren asked, knowing none of the names from the Harry Potter series. 

“Lauren, really it’s okay,” Camila said, trying to stop the green-eyed girl from ordering the book. 

Lauren ignored Camila and went online to find out the name of the third book. Once she found the name, she copied and pasted it into the Amazon app. It immediately popped up and Lauren bought it within two minutes.

“It will be here Wednesday,” Lauren happily said as she shut off her phone and dropped it beside her.

“Lauren.”

“Camila.”

“You didn’t have to do that. 

"And you didn’t have to take care of me and make dinner on Friday, then buy me breakfast on Saturday. You also bought me coffee yesterday and came over today to bring me lunch. You’ve done more than enough for me and I want to return the favor.”

“Thank you,” Camila said, accepting the gift. 

“I expect you to read it to me.”

“I will,” Camila nodded.

The two became quiet and finished the rest of their lunch. They moved all their empty containers onto the coffee table and Camila laid down on the couch, using Lauren’s lap as a pillow. Lauren ran her fingers through Camila’s wavy hair and moved her eyes from Camila’s side profile to the TV and then back to her side profile. Everything inside of her was warm and fuzzy. This was the first Tuesday in awhile that Lauren actually enjoyed.

As the movie ended, all her roommates crowded into the living room and made small comments about the two girls laid up on the couch. Lauren glared at all them while Camila stayed oblivious to them all.

Lauren soon got tired of all the comments and led Camila back into her bed, which of course resulted in more comments from her roommates.

“I like your room,” Camila said as she looked around the poster covered room. 

“It’s small,” Lauren stated as she walked across her clothes covered floor and hoped onto her twin sized bed. 

“It’s cute,” Camila commented as she walked over to Lauren’s bed. “Who do you bunk with?”

“Mani,” Lauren answered. “Majority of these clothes come from her. I’ve tried to tell her over and over again to pick them up, but she never listens.”

“I can’t say much,” Camila laughed. Her floors were worse than Normani and Lauren’s floors.

“I originally had plans on moving in with Lucy, but then everything happened and it never became a reality. 

"You could move in with me. Diane is never there because she practically lives with her boyfriend. I could use the company.”

“I wish,” Lauren laughed. “This place was not made for five people. It’s barely suitable for two.”

“I rather live in a smaller place and have fun then living in a bigger place with no one around. It gets lonely.”

“You’re welcome here anytime. However, know it can get crazy and loud around here. Especially during our planning nights,” Lauren warned. 

“You guys have planning nights?”

“We have to or else nothing would get done. They’re supposed to a few hours of quiet a week so everyone can focus on getting things done, but it’s usually a night filled with people stressed out because things aren’t getting done or going right.”

“I want to experience one of those.”

“We’re having one Saturday afternoon. Maybe you could come over and help me plan somethings. Then we can go explore Denver for a little.”

“I’ll mark it on my calendar.”

“Nerd,” Lauren playfully teased. 

“That’s definitely me,” Camila nodded as she entered the information into the calendar on her phone.

“I love how you just embrace it.”

“I have to,” Camila shrugged as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. “I went to science camp every year for six years.”

“I wish I would’ve known you in my grade school days. I tried so hard to be someone I’m not because I didn’t want to be put into the nerd category. I was a people pleaser, but once I graduated I never saw any of those people again. I wish I would’ve stayed myself, but after pretending for so long I’m still trying to figure myself out. Lucy helped a little, but I’m still lost.”

“Tell me more about Lucy,” Camila hummed as she laid down on Lauren like she did on the couch.

“Uh, what do you want to know?” Lauren asked, becoming awkward. She hardly talked about Lucy to anybody, even those that knew her. She was always such an awkward subject to talk about even before she passed.

“I don’t know. I always hear people talking about Lucy around school and I feel so out of the loop.”

“What have you heard?” Lauren asked as she tried to get a sense of what Camila wanted to know. 

“I heard she used to teach in the PreK class before they got rid of it and that you and her were in some type of on again, off again type of relationship. At least that’s what Diane said. She also told me she passed away over the summer in a car accident, and that’s about it. I want to hear about Lucy as a person instead of her death or her job. I’m sure there’s so much more to her.”

“There is,” Lauren nodded. “She was a unique one to say the least. When she was teaching she was the sweetest, down to earth person you would’ve ever met. To outsiders you would’ve thought she’d go home and read a book and watch the news before crawling into bed at ten. When she wasn’t in her teaching role then she was usually out party or exploring a new town. She loved art and photography and literature. She was like the typical bad girl you’d read in a story.”

“She sounds interesting,” Camila smiled up at Lauren. 

“She was something,” Lauren laughed lightly before biting her bottom lip. 

“Did you love her?”

Lauren froze at that question. Did she love her?��   They threw the word out a few times here and there, but it always sounded so painful and awkward. She definitely had strong feels for her, but didn’t know if it was love, or maybe it was. It was feeling she never had experience with. 

“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t know what love is supposed to feel like.”

“I’ve never been in love before but I can’t wait to feel like the characters in books do. It sounds amazing.”

“Whoever you love is one lucky person.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’ll give them your full time and attention and make sure they’re loved and appreciated everyday. I hope I can find someone like you.”

“Yeah,” Camila said becoming quiet. 

“Is everything okay?” Lauren asked, becoming nervous that she said something wrong. 

“Everything is fine,” Camila said as she grabbed Lauren’s hand and placed I on her head. “I want you to play with my hair though, and to tell me more about yourself.”

“Of course,” Lauren happily agreed as she ran her hand through Camila’s hair while she went into a story about her bossing the neighbors around when she was younger. 

— Hi guys!

As always don’t forget to tell me what you think. I hope you all have a fantastic day/night!

- Ashley

wattpad - iloveyou1234566

[pinkguacamole]

It’s Impossible to Write About Afrikaburn

But nothing is impossible…

I spent 11 days on the Tankwa Karoo of South Africa, a shale and sandy desert surrounded by flat-topped rocky mountains in the distance. I lived off of museli, peanut butter, apples, and water from a giant jug that tasted of plastic. I slept in a tiny tent, just large enough for my bag and me, and maybe visitors if they liked to be close and cuddly. I sang and I danced and I ran around free as could be. I took it fast and I took it slow and I breathed and I tried new things and I lived in color. I created. I got chapped lips, chaffed thighs, a fever from dehydration (yes, all my fault!), sore feet, broken sandals, and a perspective flipped upside down, then sideways, and maybe it will never be “right-side-up” again. 

I wanted to travel the world and explore events. Burning Man has always appealed to me. An event where a society is built and then burnt away, no trace left behind. A place of radical expression and radical self-reliance. In the desert. Why would anyone want to do that?

Even though I am from California, I was never able to attend Burning Man because my university classes began in August and I had to at least pretend I was a good student! So here I was, years later, leaving Madagascar, traveling through Southern Africa, and there was a regional Burning Man event: Afrikaburn. I had to give it a whirl. 

When I bought my ticket I decided to join a themed camp. I felt that it would be the best way to feel involved in the community. I would be a part of something. I would volunteer my time and be surrounded by artists and maybe some people who knew what they were doing. I joined the Flow Arts Commune. I did not know what Flow Arts was at the time, but I enjoyed each word individually: 

Flow- I was looking for flow. I wanted to relax and go with the flow. I wanted to be in flow. 

Arts- I wanted to immerse myself in art and creativity. I wanted to see colors flying in every direction. I wanted to be inspired. 

Commune- I wanted community. I wanted to be a part of something. 

I asked to join and the amazing organizer, Ryan, took me in and guided me along the way, telling me what I should prepare and do for the event. He was a life saver. I went up a few days early with Ryan and some of his friends so we could set up. This group: J, Ryan, and Monica, all South Africans, became my home at Afrikaburn. We were early to the event so we had a lot of time to bond and watch the city rise as more and more burners arrived each day in another  fiery Sunrise and Sunset. 

It turns out that Flow Arts are fire arts, poi arts (LED lights on the end of a string), and hula hooping arts. All crucial to an event like Afrikaburn. Flow Arts light up the night. 

I was a sham. I was not a Flow Artist. I never even made time to learn how to do any of it in my 11 days. But I got to meet fire dancers and bond with them and learn about their lives and I became somewhat of a groupie. On the vast Playa at night, sparkling party lights and dance floors and colors could be seen for miles. And you can always spot the fire dancers. I followed the fire dancers. They would hop from stage to stage, all night, until the break of dawn, preforming their art. It lit up my life. It made a cold desert night seem warmer. I was in a kaleidoscope of fire. 

All night the world was sparkling and we danced. (Like robots, because most of the music was Trance music). 

Despite the magnificent glow of fire and el-wired humans bobbing around with their own vivid radiance, bringing a dark desert to life each night in an Alice in Wonderland-scape of caterpillar smoke rings, dancing lights, and Cheshire Cat smiles, daytime was actually my favorite time of Afrikaburn. 

Every day was a new adventure. As someone put it, a “choose your own adventure” book. 

To set the scene, there were dusty art pieces, some a few stories high: a shell, a baobab tree, a branched platform, shark fins, a temple, boxes, cameras, and hearts- all made of wood and brought to life. Most pieces were so large you could walk up or in them and see the world below, from the eyes of the creation. And they were all burned in the end. 

There were “mutant” cars passing around. Funky, creative, clever. Whatever an imagination could bring to the table, it was there. I helped paint a light-up zebra car one day. It would “moo” whenever it passed its friends. There was a Spirit Train: a moving dance floor that would select a new home during the days and nights and showcase a plethora of D.J.s- most were pretty good. 

There were colorful bicycles. Kicking up dust as they sped along with their flowers and streamers bopping in the wind. 

There were themed camps of galactic colors. Some serving pancakes and others serving wine. Some with coloring books and some with instruments to play. There were swimming pools and orange juice and body artists.

All of this was lit up at night as well.  

And the people. The people were their full selves. It seemed that everyone was wearing whatever they would wear if they could wear anything. And sometimes that was nothing at all. There were fairy skirts and top hats and steampunk gowns. There were tutus and dinosaur suits and capes. It was self-expression to the max. And apparently self expression to many men is the uniform of colorful leggings, a cowboy hat, a bandanna (to keep dust from the face), high boots, and they would be either vested or bear-chested. I guess this is the “look of the year.” I met a guy at the beginning of the week who dressed like this, and I was always able to spot him, until the weekend rolled around and it was a sea of skinny men all dressed the same. Sigh, the one that got away.

Each day my outfits slowly melted into nothing. I started off my 11 days in the desert, dressed in my usual clothes. I am traveling, so I didn’t have any of my funky costumes anyways. As the days passed, I got more colorful. I wore a tutu and a bikini. And then I took off my shirt and let a man paint a butterfly on my chest. I spent the rest of that day and night walking around as the butterfly slowly began to fly away and there was nothing there keeping me from the rest of the world. It was liberating. 

The next day I just wore a piece of simple fabric. I went to one of the themed camps filled with nudists and it did not take long for the fabric to fall off and for my friends and me to start drawing designs on each other using body paint markers. 

One of the principles of a Burn is “gifting.” All participants should try to give something, in some way to contribute to the community. I collected a lot of sweet trinkets and yummy food from people I met along the way because of this. My gifts were the gifts of volunteering and singing. These are both things I use to identify myself. I am literally a professional volunteer (2 years as a Peace Corps Volunteer gave me all I need). I volunteered in “Off Center Camp,” so I could learn more about the ins and outs of the event. I stuffed bags, painted furniture, greeted new arrivals by making them roll in the dirt. Then I hugged them and welcomed them home. I also tried out Rangering: walking around for a shift, making sure everyone and everything was okay. It was mostly just a great time to chat with my ranger partner who was a 67 year old man who has been to Burning Man 8 times and rangers no less than 65 hours each event. 

Singing was not a hard gift to give. Everywhere I went I met people who wanted to sing with me, or would just sit back and let me go on my own. There was one theme camp with instruments. One day I went with a few friends. I started singing into the microphone some improvised “Afrikaburn Blues.” Throughout the afternoon musicians of all types stopped by to jam and we made improvisational blues for hours. It was amazing. And exhausting. I had to be really creative on the spot, but I channeled my inner Drunk Judy Garland and I think I gave a pretty entertaining show. People were recognizing me for days after this so I must have done something right. 

Each day was a journey. I went to get pancakes at one camp and left with a new friend instead. I met people from all over the world and we talked about life, politics, culture, art- anything. I only had to defend myself against Trump a handful of times. People were sympathetic. We talked about race relations and how most attendees of Afrikaburn are middle-class white South Africans. It was something that bothered us all, especially because the farms surrounding the event were communities of African farmers who would not afford and most likely not even understand an event like this. Ultimately no one had any solutions to this problem. There is a clear cultural divide. It parallels the divide in the States, but it is more prominent and talked about here. 

At the end of the event food and left over water from the giant jugs would be donated to local communities, but ultimately, what does that really do? I know my experience at Afrikaburn was not the “Africa” I was used to in Madagascar. But it was still African. White South Africans are just as African as White Americans are American. It is all occupied territory. And like always, I am conflicted as hell.  

One of my biggest challenges in life is to live in the moment and let go. I feel like I am always planning the next step. My goal at Afrikaburn was to forget that and live. I think by the end of the week I had it down. Through a smorgasbord of new experiences, I was getting better at not putting pressure on myself and just being. Just doing what I felt like doing. There was no wrong turn to take at Afrikaburn. Every environment was stimulating and inspiring in some way.

I spent most of the time hopping between groups of friends I had made. I liked meeting new people, but I always crave a deeper connection (I am alone a lot!) so when I met people I clicked really well with, I tried to keep them in my peripheral. It worked really well!. I had multiple homes at Afrikaburn. There was so much love. I tried to just be carefree and give all the love I had. And make people feel warm and comfortable around me. 

On one of the last nights, I was pooped and I ended up falling asleep early. I think it was my 9th night there and I was starting to get really reflective. It was the Saturday night where weekend partiers had come in and most people would stay up until noon the following day. I went to sleep early and woke up in time for the 5am burning of the Baobab Tree. The Baobab Tree or Tree of Life was a massive tree funded by the Swedish Government. An army of builders came months before the event to create it. The tree had been a wonderful place to hang out throughout the event, to watch the world, to watch the sunset or the sunrise. And it was now time to burn it all away. 

At 4:30 am I heard some of my other friends in camp getting up to head to the tree. It was dark and oddly enough I wanted to go alone. So I slipped away before anyone could see I was around. I crossed the desert and sat on the rocky terrain, surrounded by fellow burners -all strangers this time. I did not talk to anyone. I just watched the fire dancers and waited for the Swedes to take their torches to their masterpiece. 

Once the tree was aflame, the fire grew into an explosion and lit up the whole Playa. I looked around and could see the expressions on the faces of people near and far. It was hot and I felt my face melting but I couldn’t look away as the embers began to fall all around us. 

Eventually I turned around to walk away, hoping to cross back to my tent before the firelight dimmed so I would not have to use a flashlight. I turned around periodically to watch it glow. 

As my sore feet crossed the sandy earth, I had an epiphany. I realized I was completely satisfied with my Afrikaburn Experience. I had done all I wanted and hoped to do. My mind had been widened. I was so inspired. Even though I was surrounded by friends, I felt comfortable being alone (in general I do not like being alone). In fact, I realized what a gift it was that I have spent these last three and a half years traveling and living abroad relatively alone. I felt empowered. I felt like I could do anything. I was reinvigorated to write music and perform more. I was reinvigorated to travel alone in other African countries.

The event wound down over the course of the next few days. I saw the people I cared about and made sure to exchange information. There was no internet in the desert. I watched people dismantle their camps, and I felt a tinge of sadness. Something I’d become a part of was going away. It was over.

For my last night, I tied a string I’d been wearing on my wrist since Madagascar inside the Conch Shell. Hours later I watched the shell burn away with a piece of my past sizzling along with it. 

There was a rainbow the next morning and I left Afrikaburn with my South African friends. I was still high on life. A phoenix of sorts. I was half-dead but I’d never felt more alive.

[systemfailuresunshine]

Bonding - Elsa Chapter 4

Author: @systemfailuresunshine

Summary: Year-round fluff for a soldier who just needs a hug, starting at Christmas! You, Steve and Bucky share a moment.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word count: 1567

Warning(s): None, I don’t think

A/N: New Year’s Eve is coming up and Tony is very disorganised. Bucky has an idea

A few days had passed since Christmas Day, and the karaoke incident, and the weather seemed to notice that January was on its way. The sky darkened a lot more and the low rumble of thunder seemed to have everyone on edge, not least you and the two super soldiers. You had never been a big fan of thunder, or storms for that matter, and it reminded Bucky and Steve of gunfire, shell casings and lost friends. Tony had found you all huddled together one night because none of you could sleep. He chuckled quietly as he passed the bedroom door and nodded towards Steve, who nodded back; used to Tony’s way of keeping tabs on you.

The next day, you found soothing music playing through the sound system in the living room cancelling out the noise of the thunder and rain outside, and Tony, sprawled over the sofa, raised his mug at you all as you filtered into the kitchen to get breakfast. It was one of the rare occasions that you ate breakfast. The boys made you because, in their words, you were too small. You didn’t agree that you were too skinny so had come to the conclusion that because they couldn’t artificially stretch you to make you taller and make up for the smallness that way, they’d decide to stretch you outwards by feeding you. Nevertheless, if it made them stop giving you pitying and worried glances, you’d do anything.

"I'm not made of glass, you know. I can actually take care of myself,” you said, the day before New Year’s Eve.  

The others looked at you surprised, and Steve stopped pouring orange juice into a glass.

“We know,” he replied, somewhat sheepishly, as he placed a muffin in front of you. “We just worry. After last time…”

You held a hand up to stop him.  

“A moment of weakness, Mr Rogers, nothing more,” you grinned.  

He smirked back at you.  

“Well, let’s test that apparent strength then. Meet you in the training room in ten minutes?”

He got up to leave and prep but laughed when a voice caught up to him.

“There are easier ways to humiliate me, Steve!”

“None quite as fun though,” he retorted, in a sing-song manner.

Ten minutes later and you were both in the training room, squaring off. Bucky had come to watch, despite pleading from you for him to stay away so that only Steve was witness to how badly out of shape you were.  

“No way, doll. This sounds too fun to miss out on.”

“I hate you sometimes, Barnes, you know that?”  

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckled.  

He ushered you over to the side of the room he was on, leaving Steve to put on some boxing training gloves.

“Tell you what,” he whispered, careful for Steve not to hear. “If you beat him, or at least give him some sort of injury, I will let you decide the dress code of Tony’s event for New Year’s Eve.”

“But it’s Tony’s event,” you shot back, in a hushed tone.  

“True, but I bet if you give Stevie a shiner, he’ll probably practically let you plan the whole thing, right down to the guest list.”

“Well now if I’m deciding on the guest list, you definitely have my attention,” you laughed.

“Come on (Y/N),” Steve called from the other side of the room, “let’s not take all day.”

He smirked at you, and you turned back round, winking at Bucky as you did. You had to put up some kind of fight, otherwise there was a very real possibility that you could get seriously hurt. Steve wasn’t rough on purpose but he was a very persistent trainer and could definitely leave you with a black eye if you didn’t pay attention, which had happened before. He’d been sorry for weeks, but you’d just laughed and said that the same thing would have happened walking along a road and tripping over your own feet.

“Aim for the right side, that was always his weakest at camp, even with the serum,” Bucky called from the sidelines.

“Hey, whose side are you on?” Steve asked, managing to just deflect a hit from you, but not without getting knocked back a little.

“I’m just trying to make it a more even fight, I mean the super soldier versus someone so small and defenceless? Come on.”

“Hey, whose side are you on?” you managed, before a punch to the stomach winded you, and you doubled over, coughing.

“You both should be paying more attention to each other than to me. Just because my personality is so magnetic, that shouldn’t distract you from the fact you’re fighting,” he laughed.

“I’ll tell Tony about that magnetic comment later,” you said through gritted teeth. “You’ll wake up with an arm covered in fridge magnets.”

“He can try,” Bucky muttered darkly, as you dodged a fist aimed at your upper thigh.

“Nice try, Steve,” you giggled, as your fist swung upwards and collided with his right eye.  

There was a pause.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!!” you tried to say over the sound of Bucky laughing in the corner.

“I did try to tell you,” he smiled. “You think you’d be used to getting your ass kicked by now, super soldier or not.”

Steve had taken the training glove off one of his hands, propped it under his arm and was now rubbing his injured eye with the back of his hand.

“Geez, (Y/N), didn’t know you had it in ya,” he chuckled. “That’s gonna leave a mark!”

“I’m so sorry Steve! I didn’t...” you trailed off when you saw Bucky. “Stop laughing!” you chastised.

“Okay, okay,” Bucky held his hands up in surrender. “I’ll go and get some ice.” He paused. “And tell Tony – he’ll be thrilled,” he added before leaving the room.

“Jerk!” Steve called after him. “It’s like he enjoys seeing me getting hurt,” he finished quietly, smirking.

Twenty minutes later, you were holding a bag of frozen peas on Steve’s eye. You felt like it was the least you could do seen as you punched him in the face. You punched Captain America in the face! You were almost proud. Almost. It was hard to feel proud when Steve was dramatically wincing every time you moved the bag slightly.  

“(Y/N), it hurts,” he whined.

“Well you keep moving,” you whined back. “And you could have ducked and stopped this happening in the first place.”

“It was Bucky’s fault,” he pouted.

“Isn’t everything Elsa’s fault?” Tony quipped as he walked into the kitchen.  

He paused as he surveyed the scene before him, then started laughing.

“I thought he was joking when he said you’d given Rogers a black eye, (Y/N),” he managed, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes.

“Why did I have to be stuck with the dramatic Avengers?” you muttered.  

“One dramatic Avenger with a question for you, my dear, if I may?” Tony smirked.

You giggled.

“I believe you may be aware of my annual New Year’s party,” he started.  

Your hand squeezed harder around the bag of frozen peas.

Steve moaned in pain. “Geez (Y/N), hold it steady,” he chuckled.

“Sorry,” you winced.

“Well,” Tony continued. “Whether you are aware of it or not, you should be! And because I’m such a warm-hearted guy and all-round good friend, I wondered if you wanted to decide on the dress code this year.”

“Nothing to do with Steve getting punched in the face?” you asked, a grin on your face.

“Now why would I reward someone for causing pain to our favourite Captain?” he laughed.

“Because you’re a jackass?” Steve volunteered.

“I’m hurt, Rogers,” Tony grasped his chest.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you said, practically jumping up and down.

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” Tony said, chuckling.

You slapped his arm.

“Two guys in one day? That’s cold, (Y/N)!”

You narrowed her eyes at him and he put his hands up in defence.  

“Okay, okay. Well I’d get on it then. Not long now.”

“It’s in three days and you haven’t even started planning it yet, have you?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. helps.”

“You mean ‘does it for you’.”

“Nothing goes ahead without my say-so.”

“Apart from this, which I am absolutely telling you nothing about until you get an invitation tomorrow.”

“You’re fast.”

“I’ll rope Bucky into helping,” you smirked, wondering where he’d gone after getting the peas.  

“I’ll go warn him,” Steve laughed.

“Not with peas on your eye!” you laughed back.  

There was pause, and then the three of you fell into giggles. It was comfortable, home. We all need a place to belong, and it turns out you’d all found yours in that moment.

Taglist (because I forgot, sorry!): @buckyywiththegoodhair @buckys-shield @justkeeplaughing-nevergiveup @itscooltobehappy @the-renaissance

If anyone else wants to be added, just message me on here (@systemfailuresunshine) or on @story-prompt-lyrics!

Enjoy!!

[talldarknsexy]

Russia in Julember and Humping Moose Antlers

Since my visa technically started 3 days ago, I shot off straight for the border and didn’t arrive until about 6pm in the pouring rain. It took a good 2 hours or so and I was proper soaked. I didn’t fancy camping in the wet forest, so pushed on another 60km to get to the nearest city of Vyborg where I saw some tourism and hostels on the map. I rode by forest, lots and lots of forest, there’s a lot of trees in Russia. 642 billion I’m told. I’m not sure who is counting, but I’ll bet he or she is still out there somewhere..

I made it to Vyborg by about 11pm. This may sound late, but it was the highest point on my entire route, higher even than my friend in Alaska. So, there was still an hour or two of light. At the first hostel I learned the Russian word for full, полно. At the second, I followed a guest in, but the owner wasn’t there and I found myself locked in for a few minutes. The third worked just fine.

Riding through Russia so far, the people had been polite and helpful. But, by no means outgoing. Riding into the city center, I was greeted by a good half dozen people, mostly girls, that did a celebratory “wave” for me. Weird I thought as I waved and rode by. But a suddenly slammed on the brakes upon realizing it was the cyclist gals from Riga. I’d planned on meeting them here anyways. But, certainly not by chance, in my tired/bewildered state, entering the city at dusk with 5.5 million other people.

Anyways, we got pizza and beer with some of their friends there. They went back to their Couchsurfing hosts and I found a hostel to crash at about 1am... Too tired to even shower.

The next day we met at a bike shop because the gals had a friend of a friend of a friend that mayyyybe could host us. Anyways, it worked out and a fella by the Name of Ilya graciously let us four squat in his shared, occupied apartment. His friends Vika and Pasha showed us around for that weekend. Vika was super sweet and spoke excellent English. Pasha was huge, disheveled at best with a somewhat spastic personality and always in a hurry, no matter he was doing. We had the same size and type of cycling shoes which made for some confusion...

That weekend we went to a punk rock show which was good fun. Evidentially Russian is a superb language for screamo/punk. We also went to a political art exhibition. We also got denied entry at the Hermitage, the worlds second largest art museum, and as in Riga, we went to go eat instead.

The gals left the city by train to Moscow. Ilya and I had another day of putting together a new wheel for me, as the one I got in Malawi and had now rebuilt multiple times was starting to resemble more of a potato chip. And while test riding it, my bottom bracket grenaded and we spent another afternoon replacing that as well. I went out with Ilya and his friends that evening for one last night out in St. Petersburg. It was interesting having fallen into a group of bike messenger, anarchist, vegan, hipsters (if I’m allowed to use labels like that.) They had all been great the past few days and it had been super nice going with the flow of a group and not having to make individual plans.

That next day I rolled out of St. Petersburg bearing for Moscow. The highway was less than stimulating and so, after only 40km, and very short Visa, I tried hitchhiking. People were confused, people were amused, people mostly stared- some even shook their heads. After about 3-4 hours, a truck pulled over and a guy excitedly asked me for a carton of cigarettes. Still cheaper and easier than the train, I certainly obliged.

Vladimir was a young guy with a small box truck headed home to Moscow that night. He asked me where I was from, and upon hearing Colorado, whipped out a piece of hash that must have been a good 5 grams at least... So yes, in Colorado marijuana is legal. But, in Russia is a felony with the classification of terrorism.

He liked telling stories. But, unfortunately I could only understand a very small percentage of that he was saying. He showed me a $2 US bill. When I incredulously asked if it’s origins, he google translated that he was working as a taxi driver and an American snorting coke the whole way gave it to him.

Vlad was headed far east of the city, and so I had us pull into a petrol station before the city so I could inquire about camping. In the end, he had been joking and wouldn’t allow me to buy him any cigarettes. There were some rigs there, so I asked the security guard who enthusiastically told me I could. This was about 3am. I woke up suddenly around 9:30am to my tent shaking violently. I instinctively punched back at the tent because maybe it was a dog. I swung open my tent fly to see what I think was a different security guard tell me something about 5 mins as he walked away. I guess this was not something discussing during shift change...

Feeling a bit groggy, but running on some adrenaline, I embarked on entering the largest metropolitan area I’d ever attempted on bicycle. It’s a city of 12-20 million. But nobody’s quite sure... They should find the precise fucker out there counting 642 billion trees and send them to Moscow instead.

Instead of being hosted as in St. P’s and going with the flow of social things I decided to balance that in Moscow by staying by myself in a hostel and making my own plans. I got into a nice and decent family run place in a good location for about $5. The owner happened to have lived in the states and spoke excellent English. The other staff hadn’t seen someone like me in months I don’t think. I do like that about Russia. Hostels are everywhere, even in small towns. They’re cheap functional places to relax, eat, and sleep typically for travelers or workers from Russia or neighboring countries. Unlike the chic and sterile backpacking factories in many parts of the world designed just for Chad and Tiffany on holiday

I spent the weekend in Moscow. That Friday I met up with a local from Couchsurfing who offered to show me around and I went out later for drinks with her and her friends. On Saturday, a friend of a friend, Ilya, rode into the city to show me around. He is in the process of orchestrating Russia’s first thru bikepacking route. He needn’t try too hard to convince me to try a segment.

I’d been having a good time in St. Petersburg and Moscow, but it still felt quite European to me at times. Riding through the countryside would be a good way to experience rural and authentic Russia I thought.

The next five days kinda blended together. The riding was indeed scenic. It was half dirt, half pavement, (which in this region tended to be a bit undulating at best anyways.) But mostly it got me off the busy highway and brought me through many small towns separated by endless wheat, corn, and my favorite: sunflower fields.

On the second day I went off course a bit and my navigation I was using for this route redirected me (unbenounced to me.) I rode about 15km partially through grass fields only to end at a river that appeared to be at least chest deep. Luckily Ilya had just messaged me and was able to notify my not only that I was now 17km off course, but he sent me a new file that is easier to navigate with on my phone. I did however, have to go back the entire 15km.

In the towns they have well and tap water. When I asked if the water was okay to drink I’d be met with either a blank stare, a slight nod, or a whole goddamn life story. Buying from shops was also interesting. In the cities people, and certainly younger people, recognize me as a foreigner and put up with my shitty Russian. Here, people either think I’m speaking what might as well be Chinese, or just think I’m a retarded Russian guy.

Even walking into a shop and saying hello in Russian, the old babushka lady will sometimes reply with “HUHHHH?” “ШТО КОТИТЕ?!” “ГОВОРИТЕ!” What do you want?! Speak! Most are very helpful though the language is sometimes terse but formal.

I can also only count to ten. Out of 8 other languages I’ve practiced, the teens were too difficult I determined. So, one lady had to show me on her abacus. My millennial ass not knowing how to count on a fucking abacus either... I had to just hand her an obscenely large bill for my bread and margarine.

Also sometimes annoying is that all the small shops are set up with the goods behind the counter. Only knowing half of the vocab, I have to resort to pointing. In one shop the drinks were inside a closed refrigerator. Now I haven’t lived in this village my whole life and hardly understood what she was saying. I asked politely if I could see for myself. And she jokingly asked me something like “What is this? A supermarket??”

It was some amazing countryside and it was interesting seeing all the old churches and the way people lived. They also had a lot of what appeared to be bomb shelters in some regions. There was also superb camping every night. The downside was, even though the people were quite funny and helpful, they were in no way outwardly curious. I had in 5 days, only 3 people ask me where I was from. And at least 2 of the 3 of them I’m sure were drunk. I did get a lot of stares though... A lot of stares.

I popped out of the route on Friday to stay with a Couchsurfing host Natalia in the next city. I’d come up about 100km short and opted again to hitch in a box truck. This time, armed with a pack of cigarettes.

Because I’d been camping all week and my phone only had some 5% juice and was out of data I accidentally arrived to Natalia’s address, but in another part of the city, 15km away. By the time I was able to get in touch with her and make my way back, it was almost 1am.

She was still awake though, and understanding. I spent the weekend there and caught up with a few things. Outside in Voronezh, I was fixing the derailleur alignment on my bike. I caught the attention of an old man peeing by his open car door. Maybe I’m slightly used to old naked Russian men from the gym I grew up by. But this guy, mouth wide open, just kept staring through the whole process... until he’d shaken out the last drop.

Anyways, as I was running out of time with my visa I again had to hitchhike to the next city. I rode the first 50km out of the city to a trucker rest stop. I got talking to an Armenian guy who liked the Marlboro cigarettes I was offering him and even though his truck was locked, he went out and found an empty big rig for me to ride in.

Igor was more than welcoming. I felt somewhat bad as he really liked to talk but I really had a hard time understanding. I made sure to buy us lunch, but it was a long 5 hours.

In Rostov-on-Don I stayed with Olya who had reached out. She had a separate floor for me on a small house a bit outside of the city. The next day she took me out on bike to see a bit of the surrounding area and then on foot into the city. She had hitchhiked all across Asia and had many a story to tell. I spent another day there in the library sorting out visas for Central Asia.

I was late setting off the next day and had a false start out of the city and hit some rain and a flat tire. I decided I should probably do one last registration for my Russian visa anyways and opted to get a hostel by the center. The owner was super excited to have an American there and to hear my ridiculous Russian accent. He had a lot of questions which I tried my best to answer. When he asked if I had a wife and kids I told him “я не думаю” or “I don’t think so.” He ran away laughing to go tell his friends. It was a great place and I spent that Friday night at a couchsurfing event turned dinner, turned bar, turned club. I made it back around 4:30am.

I’d had a good time in Russia. But some things had made me ready to move on. Firstly, you take your shoes off before going inside. This is something quite eastern, but something I’m familiar with in all of Asia. Additionally though, in Russia it’s bad juju to be whistling inside- it can cause you to be poor it’s thought. Apparently I whistle a lot. Sometimes I’m inside. When I go inside I need to take my shoes off, but also ensure I’m not whistling. This is asking a lot of me.

Also, most everyone had treated me with respect and was very generous and helpful. But, outside of St. Petersburg and Moscow, I could usually feel a reservedness and distance from a lot of the people I met. The idea of friendship is also a bit more eastern in that close friends are only those you have for life.

Aside from the bikepacking adventure, I’d basically been following the M4 for the span of Russia. Because of the recent war, there’s only one open border crossing from Russia to Georgia. So, I had about 150km left on the M4 before splitting off onto a lesser highway to the border. I rode a good 170km that day with some good wind and camped. This next road had very little shoulder and much less long distance traffic. I tried hitching for a few hours with a sign that just translated to “this way.” But to no avail. I rode another 60km to the next city and with only 2 days left on my visa and 500km to go, opted to take a train.

Waiting for the train, a father and son came and sat next to me on a bench. They were a little confused to be sitting next to someone in Kropotkin Russia who in fact didn’t speak Russian. But, after about 3 attempts they enthusiastically understood that I was American. They happened to be waiting for the same train in three hours, so I had some very long talks with them. Or rather... The father, Yura, talked at me for a very long time. They shared some vodka with me as it was getting dark. This was the first and last vodka I had and would drink with locals in Russia. Everyone, and I mean damn near everyone drinks beer.

I soon realized how drunk Yura was. He had a leathered skin and fake gold teeth. But his eyes had a sharp vibrancy and resiliency that shined through when he talked. The drunker he got, the less I understood, but of course the more he thought I understood. Some people make it easy with slow speech and gestures. But he was all over the place. I thought he was at one point explaining how hard life in Russia was, but then he’d throw me a goddamn curveball gesture like humping moose antlers... And then I’d be lost in left field again.

Anyways I sipped vodka with Mr. Moose Antlers and boarded the train that night. There was an announcement in Russian on the loudspeaker for the American to board the train which was a bit overwhelming. I was sweaty as hell, but managed some sleep in the bunk I was given.

The next day I rode off and stopped in a bike shop for a spare tube as a dog had ran off with mine a few days earlier. The guys were super nice there and despite my protests gave it to me for free. They also wanted to give me stuff like tires and food. But I needed to get to the border that day.

Riding out of Vladikavkav I finally caught a glimpse of the Caucus mountains. After months of the flatlands, they looked glorious. I hit the border about noontime. I had expected some questioning, as I’d been told by other tourists, and as I would find out later, there was slipping diplomacy between Georgia and Russia. Anyways, the passport officer was very impressed with my “Russian” and asked me for my motorcycle papers. He then popped out of his booth and was more impressed to just see a bicycle. I thought I was in the clear. But unfortunately, his colleague flagged me over to the office.

I was greeted by Putin’s long lost dejected cousin. And Judging by his grimace, I’d reckon maybe his cat had taken a shit in his coffee mug that morning. He asked me a lot of questions about my previous life and what I had done in Russia for the month of “Julember.” I had come up with the bare minimum hotel registrations at one per week. So, Couchsurfing and camping were not things I was keen to disclose as those may not have flown so well under a tourist visa. For my father’s profession I put down Chief Marketing Officer. I then had to do quite a bit of backpedaling to explain that he was not police in order to get him to calm back down. And after about two hours, I was told to go on, just as quickly as I’d been pulled aside.

Overall, Russia was nothing like I expected and everything I did not. Also, it’s a big country... in fact, the biggest. And only having received a month visa very much limited me on route and riding options. But I did feel I got a good glimpse of Western Russia as least... And I got a lot of stares in return 😅

[type2diabetestreatments-blog]

Letter to a New Diabetic

New Post has been published on http://type2diabetestreatment.net/diabetes-type-1/letter-to-a-new-diabetic/

Letter to a New Diabetic

By Allison Ong

To the distributor of this letter: The following “letter to a new diabetic” is intended for a newly-diagnosed teenager or young adult. I promise there is no vulgar or inappropriate language here; however, the insight and advice contained within is suited for an older audience. Given that my current age is 20, I believe my letter suitable for anyone age 13 and up, who will most likely be the primary caretaker for the remainder of their diabetes journey.

Hello there, new diabetic.

By now, a slew of physicians, specialists, and nurses may have buzzed through the doors of your hospital room at all hours of the morning to prick your finger, give you a shot of insulin, or force you to pee in their tiny cubicle of a bathroom.

Perhaps you visited your doctor’s office the other day and tested for an abnormally high blood glucose of 275, alarming enough to warrant an immediate visit to the hospital. Or perhaps your type 1 diabetes went unchecked or undiscovered like mine did ten years ago; perhaps, like me, you were rushed to the emergency room half-conscious in the back of the family car, having lost 15 pounds of weight and risen to a glucose level of nearly 1500.

Whatever journey you took to get here, you will now find yourself walking the same path that millions before you have walked as well.

I don’t mean to scare you. I have no idea who you are, what you think about your new diagnosis, or what kind of environment you will return to after the endocrinologist on call sets you loose upon the world once again, to a life where “normalcy” is supposed to resume. But I don’t want to be dramatic. I want to be realistic, and optimistic, and helpful in any way I can in regards to your new situation.

Type 1 diabetes isn’t a one-size-fits-all disease. It cannot be controlled at all times by the logic of science and mathematics. Every diabetic’s body responds differently to insulin, carbohydrates, exercise, stress, hormones, and emotions. Every diabetic must forge his or her own path to healthy daily management, and this requires tremendous feats of time, effort, and thought. Believe me when I tell you: it’s a lot of trial and error, even ten years later.

Diabetes is not just a physical or medical challenge for me, but a challenge to my entire body and my entire self.

Please do one thing for me: approach type 1 diabetes with an open, flexible heart. Approach this disease ready to learn, to fail, to struggle, to triumph. Approach this disease willing to educate others, to support others, and to accept support yourself. Approach this disease with guns drawn and blazing, pumping yourself up every day to do your best. To check your blood glucose before you drive and before you go to bed. To give yourself insulin 20 minutes before every meal. To faithfully log your statistics every day for a week, to discover how your body is rewiring itself in its new fashion. To overpack diabetes supplies for that one-week vacation, and always (always) in your carry-on luggage. To troubleshoot, to plan ahead, and to reflect on your day when all is said and done.

That’s a lot of things to keep track of. I’m sorry.

Plus, you’re probably being bombarded with a ton of diabetes terminology—or, if your care team is kind, it’s being spoon-fed to you little by little. Learning diabetes is like learning a new language, or learning new definitions to words you thought you already knew: bolus, hemoglobin A1C, Novolog, infusion set, fiber, low, high, ketones, prescription. After 10 years of having diabetes, I don’t see food without seeing numbers. After 10 years of keeping myself alive and kicking with computers and drugs, there are more than a few ways my life—and my perception of it—has changed.

As I said, diabetes isn’t one-size-fits-all

But there are a lot of up sides to diabetes as well—a lot of reasons why you should feel empowered to embark upon this new journey, rather than hindered. A lot of reasons why you should look forward to the period of time when you’ll finally feel comfortable with diabetes; when it becomes a natural and accepted part of you, like a quirky and slightly unnecessary iPhone upgrade.

I’ll tell you a little about myself, to prove to you that I am actually a real person with feelings who isn’t writing about this disease from an impersonal, textbook-style viewpoint.

My name is Allison. I am 20 years old, and I attend a large public college in the city of Los Angeles, California. When I was eleven, I had no knowledge of diabetes except that “you couldn’t eat sugar.” For fun, I figure skated, played piano, and drew. There were no type 1 diabetics I knew of in my family tree, or in my school; some of my grandparents, of course, would develop type 2 later on. I was a completely normal, if not underweight fifth grader in Southern California.

Then I was diagnosed. I already mentioned that Diagnosis Day was a near-death experience for me. I spent my last day of ignorance stumbling through the hallways of my elementary school like a drunk, freezing juice boxes in the middle of the night so I could crawl back down the stairs and suck them dry two hours later. When I was diagnosed I wasn’t sad. I learned about diabetes, yes, and learned how to take care of myself. But I was very young. The phrase “chronic illness” didn’t strike me as something to be overly scared of, because I hadn’t yet learned that a future to be scared of existed.

My parents broke down as my endocrinologist taught them how to use syringes at the hospital. They were learning how to pinch skin and deliver shots of harmless saline solution into fatty tissue, when I think it finally hit them that I, their very skinny, little daughter, didn’t have much fatty tissue available to be pinched three times a day for the rest of my life. The news hit them much harder than it hit me.

From then on, diabetes became a bit of a rollercoaster.

I became independent with my disease early on. The school nurse made me take my insulin in her presence every day at lunch, but when I hit sixth grade I said I’d had enough. When I switched from shots to the Animas insulin pump—and later to Medtronic—my life changed for the better. (Warning, that was kind of an advertisement for pump therapy. But I love it.) Suddenly, I had the power to control diabetes in my pocket 24/7. With computerized settings and automated dosages, my parents very quickly became secondary caretakers to the disease I decided to shoulder on my own. As early as middle school, diabetes was completely my business and my business only.

There are a lot of up sides to diabetes as well—a lot of reasons why you should feel empowered to embark upon this new journey, rather than hindered.

I was never horrible with diabetes management. If you’re wondering what scale I’m judging myself on, it’s called the A1C. (It might look scary the first few times you’re tested; don’t worry.) I never did horribly, no, but I never did a stellar job either. And as my high school years began, I realized that I – the academically gifted student, the older sister, the artist, and the tennis player – didn’t have my life together after all. I was surviving with diabetes, and keeping it in check. But I wasn’t thriving with it.

Throughout all of this, however, I got closely involved with the diabetes community. I encourage you to do the same. I attended diabetes summer camp for four years of my life, forming some of the best memories of my childhood. (They’re everywhere. Please look them up.) I volunteered with my local JDRF chapter. I participated in a fashion show for type 1 diabetics in Orange County. I was even a Girl Scout, and completed my Gold Award project with the diabetic community as my main focus.

But diabetes wasn’t—and still isn’t, really—my main priority. And I’m not suggesting it should be yours either. But you should come to realize that type 1 diabetes isn’t something you should ignore, or write off, for several reasons. Here are my own reasons: first, there were very real medical complications I could develop as a result of poor management. Second, I wanted to be a role model for myself, my brother, and anyone else who needed one. Third, I was tired of feeling helpless and incompetent.

The journey to self-improvement is ongoing. It will never end, and that’s to be expected; diabetes is not just a physical or medical challenge for me, but a challenge to my entire body and my entire self. It challenges my values, my self-image, my willpower, and my character. It challenges my past, my present, and my future. Chronic illness, when so present in your daily life, will make subtle tweaks to your individuality that you may not notice immediately, but years down the road you will. Perhaps someone will point them out to you, or perhaps you’ll realize them yourself.

Approach this disease ready to learn, to fail, to struggle, to triumph.

But there’s an even bigger takeaway from diabetes that I’ve discovered, multiple times in various forms: diabetes isn’t just a disease, a diagnosis, or something to be dealt with and pushed away. It’s not an allergy, that only applies to your well-being in certain situations of danger—it applies every day, to many things that you do. It also shouldn’t be a death sentence, because you have lots of technology and so many resources to help you succeed and live as healthy an existence as anyone else in this world. What’s remarkable about diabetes, at least to me, is that if you choose to let it in, diabetes becomes a point of growth. It becomes a point of encouragement and strength, and maybe even honor.

Diabetes has taught me empathy. It unloaded a world of responsibility on to my shoulders at a time when no one else my age had such a task, and it taught me how to be independent. It gave me patience, and versatility, and a deep appreciation for life and its transience. I identify easily with others who have medical problems of their own. I meet other diabetics and it’s instantly like meeting a long-lost brother or sister. It’s just so easy, when you meet a stranger who knows more about a weird little part of yourself that even your non-diabetic best friend, boyfriend, or mother can never gain full access to.

Diabetes has also shown me what I hope to pursue in life. It has shaped my dreams and my future, not only in my career, but who I hope to be as a person.

Diabetes has also depressed me, discouraged me, and broken me down beyond belief. At times I’ve hated diabetes; at times I’ve loved it; at times I’ve just felt okay with it.

Please know that you are not alone.

“Okay” isn’t all I want you to feel. I hope every diabetic not only survives with this disease, but finds some sort of purpose in it. I’m not saying you should climb every mountain in the Himalayas and become a diabetes guru for the good of mankind. I’m not saying you should tell each and every one of your friends that you have diabetes and you have this newfound mission in life to educate others about it (though I do encourage lots of openness, and lots of self-acceptance).

In fact, I don’t think diabetes should be on the forefront of your mind at all times; not at all. Heck, it’s far from the forefront of my mind at the moment. Diabetes is part of my definition, but is far, far from being my entire definition. I am more than a “girl with diabetes,” and my life consists of so much more than shots and daily exercise and internal calculation.

But diabetes is life-changing in more ways than one, and there’s as much to be appreciated from the experience as there is to be learned and lamented. You may not think diabetes can grow to be very important in your life, and maybe you’re right—but most likely, it will impact you in some way you didn’t expect. It will never, ever take over who you are. But it will become a part of your life’s history, just as it has become part of mine.

Please know that you are not alone. Whether you are cruising and adjusting well to diabetes, or in need of some advice, or simply interested in connecting with others who understand what’s happening in your life, know that there is an entire community out there ready to receive you.

It may be hard to ask for help. I still struggle with it, and often when I feel in need of guidance or intervention, I shrug my shoulders and say to myself, ‘It’s okay. I can do it myself.’ It’s a perfectly valid and noble reaction, but—

If you need support, if you need a second opinion, if you need anything, anything at all to assist you through the initial twists and turns of this journey—

Ask for help.

I hope this letter finds you well, and that you are ready to meet this challenge of T1D with positivity, tenacity, and heart.

Good luck.

Note: This article originally appeared on ENDPAIN–a unique organization using storytelling and narrative to shift perspectives on pain.

Photo Credit: Henning Westerkamp (Pixabay), Henning Westerkamp (Pixabay), Giulia Bertelli (Unsplash), Adobe Stock Photos and iStock Photos

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