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Kiara remembers exactly how she felt when she first saw Caitlyn Torres.
It started out like every other school day. Noah picked her up, laying on the horn of his orange pop can of a car because he doesn’t see the point of walking to the door and ringing the bell and she should be grateful he’s even driving her. She was passive-aggressive the entire ride and it went over his head entirely. Nothing new or special.
If she’s honest with herself, Alicia dating Harris is the only reason she started dating Noah. It makes sense. Alicia is her best friend. Noah is Harris’ best friend. They make sense together. A Fab Four like in an early 2000s teen show. It certainly makes more sense than the way a pretty girl’s laughter can make her lose all sense of time and place.
When Kiara sees a new face in the hallway, everything else sort of fades away. Her eyes linger, linger, linger and her heart quickens, quickens, quickens and her feet carry her closer before she’s even worked out if she should or not.
It isn’t weird. As the mayor’s daughter, she’s seen her mom do this a million times, preaching the importance of welcoming new people to try to grow their dying town. She’s just taking a page out of her mom’s extensive campaign binder.
When Caitlyn seems to react positively to her much too eager, much too forward introduction, it might not make sense, but it feels right. It feels good. Better than anything else in this town, in her supposedly charmed life. And Kiara never wants it to end.
“We should exchange numbers,” Kiara hears herself blurt out and quickly adds, “so I can drop you a pin to the party. Literally everyone knows the Whitaker house, but just to be sure.”
“Wow, you really want me at this party, don’t you?” Caitlyn teases.
Kiara nods too enthusiastically to be considered cool, but it is genuine and makes Caitlyn smile wider so no regrets.
“Yeah, okay, sure.” Caitlyn takes her phone out.
“And you can always text me if you need directions or a food rec, even though Ironwood’s options are practically nonexistent.”
“Or just to say hey?” Caitlyn looks so hopeful. Flirty, even?
“Or just to say hey,” Kiara echoes, beaming and she doesn’t even try to hide it. It’s impossible to. She doesn’t want to.
Kiara remembers exactly how she felt when she first saw Caitlyn Torres. It’s the same way she felt when she first heard the song that would become her favorite for the rest of her life.
***
Ask anyone in town and they’ll tell you Kiara Gibbons has everything a teenage girl should want.
Parents who are both alive and still married (even though one hides in her work and the other hides in his man cave). She lives in a country house overlooking scenic Main Street, the official mayoral residence. She’s pretty enough and good enough at most things (despite not being great at one thing). She’s arguably the most popular girl in school mostly because the way her mom takes from the town isn’t as showy as the way Alicia’s dad does. Sometimes Kiara feels selfish for entertaining the idea of wanting more, but that was before Caitlyn.
Caitlyn who stands apart instead of fitting in. Caitlyn who doesn’t just stand by, but stands up for what and who she believes in and leaves a situation that does not serve her with ease. Caitlyn who won’t answer her texts after that disaster of a party at Alicia’s house.
Makes sense.
Kiara tried to warn her about Curtis Young and then stood by and watched the boys she introduced her to hold Curtis down and drive his bike into a lake.
Not a great look. Downright awful actually.
Kiara has been thinking about what to say after that, how to apologize, but what can she say? Not that she has a good excuse either way. There’s no good excuse. There’s no excuse.
Instead, she spends the weekend daydreaming and scribbling feverishly in a little notebook no one else gets to see.
And what could one day resemble a song about all of the things she should have said but couldn’t find her voice begins to take shape.
***
She can’t sleep after getting home from the firefly festival. Too busy running her conversation with Caitlyn on a loop over and over in her head.
It was kind of nice, Caitlyn being the one to approach her for once. To be teased in a way that makes her feel warm and so mortifyingly seen.
Just heard your mom’s the mayor. Do you sing in the church choir too?
The way her ears had burned at the way Caitlyn’s voice drops lower when she’s teasing her, and all Kiara could do in response was smile through it.
No, don’t go reading into that. I like to sing and it’s more for her anyway.
Kiara looks over at her acoustic guitar collecting dust in the corner of her bedroom. She had taken singing lessons, guitar lessons, piano, tried out every extracurricular activity her mom could sign her up for so she wouldn’t notice how often mommy was focusing on her political career more than parenting. Her mom who has been acting so weird since meeting Caitlyn, since finding out who her mom is.
Does she know about you?
Kiara doesn’t know why she lied and denied. Well, she does. It’s an automatic response at this point. She was raised to be polite, to not cause trouble for those around her, to be a model citizen and daughter. What she’s supposed to say just comes out of her mouth. It always has.
It’s just us here right now. And a bunch of bugs that randomly light up. You don’t have to pretend to be anyone else.
Kiara privately thinks she might like that.
When she can hear the muffled sound of her parents arguing downstairs, instead of reaching for her wired earphones like she normally does, Kiara slips out of bed and grabs her guitar. It’s been so long since she played. She’s gotten so busy with school, with Alicia and Noah, and whatever her parents expect of her. She told Caitlyn that she sings in the church choir for her mom, but maybe in the privacy of her bedroom…
Kiara strums a glittery emerald pick down steel guitar strings, fingers pressing into the fretboard harder than strictly necessary. It makes a glorious sound. It sounds like coming home after being away for too long. And it’s very, very loud.
“Kiara!” Her dad shouts. “What are you doing? It’s late! Go to bed!”
As if they gave her the same courtesy when they decided to have the same argument they always have. He hates all of the schmoozing. He hates having to be a cardboard cutout of a perfect husband. He hates it all and has no problem voicing it behind closed but thin doors. Her mom responds that she can’t help that it’s apart of the job that put a roof over their heads. Then it usually escalates to screaming about everything under the sun from there.
Kiara sets her guitar aside and fishes out her journal hidden between the bed frame. She spends the next hour scribbling out would-be lyrics about fireflies, synergy and the most beautiful eyes she’s ever seen.
***
Caitlyn likes Curtis Young.
Because of course she does.
He has objectively good hair that’s somehow always perfectly tousled despite how often he wears a bike helmet. They’re both into motor vehicles and spend all of their time together in her uncle’s garage. Also, he’s a boy.
Not that Kiara can complain when she’s technically also dating a boy.
Not that she has anyone she can complain to about any of this.
But still, if Caitlyn was into Curtis this whole time then what the hell have they been doing? What was all of that? Why, when she flirts with her in front of Noah no less, Caitlyn looks so unbelievably pleased?
Whatever is going on, it’s thrilling.
Seeing the girl you like cozying up to the town bad boy at the local diner—less so.
Kiara can openly admit she admires how Caitlyn is so unapologetically herself. It makes her wonder on sleepless nights when the words and the sounds won’t come so she taps her pen against a blank page over and over again dozens of times. Could being unapologetically herself be just as thrilling? Could she achieve that with just her voice and a guitar?
***
“It’s funny that concession nachos are virtually the same everywhere.” Caitlyn steals a tortilla chip covered in yellow cheese that definitely came from a metal industrial size can. Their arms brush in the process so Kiara can’t complain. “My grandpa used to take me and Zac to a Yankees game once a year when the Pirates were in town. I swear these nachos taste exactly the same.”
“But I’m sure White Knuckle Run nachos are twelve times cheaper than Yankee Stadium,” Kiara says. “Don’t laugh, but when I was a kid I was in a commercial for the local mini-golf place. They put all of this food from the concession stand in front of me. I was supposed to pretend to eat it because it was all fake, fake looks better on camera, but no one told seven-year-old Kiara.”
Caitlyn scoffs playfully. “You scream small town child star.”
“Not that I had a choice…” Kiara rolls her eyes. “I had to sing this cheesy jingle with nacho cheese colored paint in my mouth which was probably toxic.”
Caitlyn nudges Kiara insistently. “Do you still remember the jingle? I bet you do.”
“Of course I do. We did so many takes I’m sure it violated child labor laws in most states.”
“Sing it.”
“Nope.”
“Come on. Please? For me?”
“For you?” Kiara knows exactly how dangerous that request is. Once Caitlyn realizes she can get her to do just about anything with those two little words, she’s done for.
“Sing to me like we’re in church on a Sunday.” Caitlyn laughs brightly.
“To think I was considering it right before that. If you really want, I’m pretty sure it’s floating around YouTube.” Kiara watches Caitlyn’s face drop as she rapidly starts closing in on herself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“No, it’s cool.” Caitlyn tries to play it off, but the way she suddenly won’t look her in the eyes suggests the opposite. “I mean, it’s stupid to be triggered by any mention of YouTube or whatever.”
“It’s not stupid. You aren’t stupid,” Kiara assures her and god does she mean it, can’t stress it enough. “For what it’s worth, I don’t care what your dad might or might not have done or what people around town say about him.”
Caitlyn’s eyes narrow, searching for any hint of deception. “Really?”
“Really. I’m not hanging out with your dad. I’m hanging out with you, Caitlyn Torres.” Kiara bumps their shoulders. “I hope you don’t judge me for what my mom does.”
Kiara hesitates, but only for a second before laying her hand over Caitlyn’s hand which is smaller than hers, soft yet calloused in places, evidence of the long hours she puts into her uncle’s shop. Kiara takes a deep breath and lets it out exasperatedly. Then, sings the stupid, awful jingle.
A big grin breaks out across Caitlyn’s face and there she is. There’s the girl who first caught her eye, the one with a smile brighter than even fireflies could hope to achieve. Caitlyn squeezes Kiara’s hand and whispers in an impossibly soft voice, “Thank you. Your voice is amazing.”
Kiara tries, but can’t seem to catch her breath enough to respond. Then a drone crashes right into the plate of nachos on the picnic table in front of them.
“You weren’t kidding about the cheese getting cold and congealed,” Caitlyn comments. “It’s like it’s stuck in cement.”
“I only really got them because I didn’t want to rob you of your first choice.”
Caitlyn cuts her a look so suddenly that Kiara worries about her giving herself whiplash. Before either of them can say anything more, Caitlyn’s friend comes running over with a controller in hand, rescuing the drone while listing all of the ways someone named Brooke is going to murder him.
***
Homecoming feels like a missed opportunity.
Caitlyn had looked beautiful. Not surprising. She looks beautiful in her hoodies and Dickies too. It felt like she only had eyes for her when Kiara was deciding and debating choosing a partner.
Until Noah.
Noah who only ever half-listens to her, always cutting her off before she can even finish a sentence and disregarding her opinion regardless. Noah who clearly puts more stock in the idea and image of dating his best friend’s girlfriend’s best friend more than dating Kiara Gibbons the person. Noah who her parents approve of.
But now, Alicia is no longer dating Harris and seems happier than she has in a long time. Also, Alicia knows now. She can no longer un-know and met Kiara with acceptance and a promise of support. Easily the best thing to come out of the night. It means so much more than a cheap plastic tiara ever could.
It makes her think that maybe she can do this.
Maybe she can show everyone who she is and won’t lose everyone in the process.
Maybe one day.
Who knows? There’s always prom. Maybe one day they can go on a double date, her and Caitlyn and Alicia and Zac. They always joked about marrying twins back in elementary school. The mental image is so ridiculous and perfect.
Homecoming feels like a missed opportunity, but it also feels like she’s that much closer to being who she wants to be.
***
One Sunday morning, Kiara wakes to her mom throwing her bedroom door open with no regard for privacy and telling her that the regular pianist at church is on vacation and they need her to fill in. Her mom tells her this, doesn’t bother to ask. Typical.
Kiara sits behind an ancient piano off to the side of the altar an hour before Mass. No one else is around. Her mom is in the church office, discussing a donation where they can put her name on something so churchgoers will remember it when they see it on a ballot. Bored, Kiara lets her fingers dance across the keys aimlessly as her mind drifts elsewhere.
“That sounds pretty.”
Kiara jolts, accidentally hitting a sharp, ugly note. Her eyes snap open to see Caitlyn walking down the church aisle toward her, morning sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows, bathing her in light.
“Well, up until the end,” Caitlyn adds.
“You scared me.” Kiara doesn’t know why she feels and sounds so breathless. Caitlyn Torres just has that effect on her. “Sneaking up on me again, I see.”
“Just returning the favor.” Caitlyn slips onto the piano bench beside her. “Plus, last time I got a cool fact about fireflies out of it. I saw you walk in and had to see you in your element. Did you write that yourself?”
Kiara shrugs. “It’s not, like, a thing. I was just messing around.”
“Well, if that’s how it sounds when you’re messing around, I can’t wait to hear what it sounds like when you’re actually trying.”
Kiara laughs. “Never going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“Playing other people’s music, that’s easy. Making your own and sharing it with people, that’s a risk. I’d probably just embarrass myself.”
“I think it’d be cool,” Caitlyn insists. “If it’s you, if it comes from you, how could it not be? And yeah, you risk being ridiculed, but that’s true about everything worth doing. Otherwise, what’s the point?” Caitlyn laughs. “And I can’t believe I just quoted my brother. Don’t tell Zac.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Kiara smiles.
Caitlyn looks out over the empty wooden pews. “There’s no one else here. Would you play me something if I asked nicely?”
Caitlyn bats her long, dark lashes. She knows exactly what she’s doing. It’s not fair. And Kiara enjoys it way more than she probably should.
“We aren’t totally alone.” Kiara dances her fingers across ivory keys to try to distract from how sweaty she feels right now and all Caitlyn is doing is looking at her. “God is also here.”
Caitlyn laughs loudly and oh Kiara enjoys it. She can’t help it.
“So,” Kiara says, desperate for a subject change. “Uh, do you believe in God?”
Nice. Absolutely fantastic.
“Not in the sense that there’s some patriarchal Father in the sky, ready to punish his children for prioritizing actual people over ideals or wanting who you want...” The only time Caitlyn’s eyes leave hers is to see what her hands are doing, playing softly. “My grandparents are, like, hardcore Catholic though. I can tell believing in something is grounding for them and I can’t fault anyone for that. My mom never pressured us to be religious. It’d be hypocritical since she isn’t.”
“Do you want to know a secret?”
Caitlyn leans in. “Always.”
Kiara looks around to make sure they’re still the only two in the room before sharing, “I’m pretty sure my mom cares more about people seeing her and her perfect husband sitting in the front row and the mayor’s daughter in the choir than she does about God and salvation or whatever.”
“That’s not how I see you,” Caitlyn says so surely. She’s always so sure about what she sees in others. “And when you’re ready for me to hear your music you know where to find me. Everyone at the garage will tell you I’m notoriously impatient, but I can wait, especially for the right people.”
When Caitlyn looks at her the way she is now it’s impossible to look away. Kiara feels herself leaning in, closer and closer — but then the doors creak open as people start to file in. Caitlyn quickly stands like she’d just been caught doing something she shouldn’t be doing in a place she shouldn’t be doing it. Kiara aches to ask her to stay, but her throat is achingly dry.
“I need to get back,” Caitlyn says, “but I’ll see you.”
“You will,” Kiara says, watching her go, her eyes on her the entire way.
After Mass, the choir director thanks Kiara for filling in and goes on about how her love for God shined through her voice today. Kiara accepts the compliment and surprisingly, she doesn’t burst into radiant flames.
***
Seeing Caitlyn and Curtis kissing right after she breaks up with Noah and comes out to her mom — really sucks.
Kiara sits in Alicia’s car feeling so self-conscious and vulnerable. It’s like a fog has descended on her. Everything feels so fuzzy and far away. And of course it happened in front of Alicia who knows about her stupid crush now.
“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” Kiara breaks the heavy silence, reverting back to that person who says what she’s supposed to. It's just easier. Going with what's easiest (dating Noah, ignoring his gross behavior, doing everything and anything her parents want) had been her MO for so long.
Alicia shakes her head. “Ki, you don’t have to be okay right now.”
“No, I…I knew she was into him and I was with Noah anyway, but I don’t know. I guess I thought…” Kiara stares at her sneakers, then tries to shrug it off. “Life pulled an UNO reverse card on me.”
“I’m sorry.” Alicia wraps an arm around Kiara, drawing her into an awkwardly positioned yet much appreciated hug. “What can I do for you? How can I make it better?”
Kiara leans into her best friend, thinking. What would make her feel better right now?
Taking a sledgehammer to gross Noah’s gross brother’s gross limo and finishing what Harris started sounds amazing right now.
But what also sounds amazing right now…
Kiara pulls up a photo on her phone and shows it to Alicia. “I want to do this to my hair.”
Alicia smiles wider than she’s smiled in months. “No hairdresser in Ironwood is going to do that to the mayor’s daughter’s hair without mayoral approval.”
“Then we get out of Ironwood.”
Alicia’s smile turns mischievous as she settles back into the driver’s seat and starts the car. Kiara stares forward determinedly and when they’re on the road out of Ironwood, she doesn’t look back.
***
“What did you do to your hair?”
Kiara freezes, caught in her attempt to sneak up to her room and put off dealing with her mom’s opinion on her choices. Now that she’s seen it, what’s the point of hiding it? So she walks into the living room with all of the confidence she can muster.
Her hair is still chin-length so she has the option to hide the buzzcut from temple to temple all along the sides and back, but she’s done hiding. Kiara remembers feeling so giddy watching locks of hair fall to the floor. Looking in the mirror at the results felt like the one thing going right in her life.
Maybe if I can get to a place where I like myself, she remembers thinking, staring at her reflection, then everything might hurt less.
“It’s a little harder to pretend this didn’t happen, right?” Kiara asks.
“Kiara, why are you acting like this?”
She has never seen her mom so angry, not even the time someone kept drawing dicks on all of her campaign signs around town.
“I’m not acting like anything. I’m sorry I’m not the daughter you want me to be, but I’m not going to apologize for being me for the first time in my whole life. And I’m not going back either.” Kiara heads back to the stairs and it doesn’t surprise her when neither of her parents try to stop her or bother following after her.
“A little backup would have been nice,” her mom’s voice floats up the staircase. Hearing it, Kiara pauses at the top and listens.
“It’s just a phase,” her dad replies, sounding as disinterested as ever. “When she gets older, she’ll realize what’s important. As long as her grades are up, it’s just hair for chrissakes.”
“It’s not just about her hair. It’s about her attitude lately. And…what she said to me at the diner.”
“What bothers you most, that she takes after you or that it’s Samantha Torres’ daughter?”
What?
What’s that supposed to mean?
Her mom’s response is the click of heels against original floorboards and the slam of her office door. Conversation over. And honestly, her dad is probably relieved.
What’s the connection between her mom and Caitlyn’s mom?
Being as quiet as she can, Kiara pulls down the ladder to the attic and climbs up. She uses the flashlight on her phone to navigate the narrow space until she finds a dusty cardboard box of her mom’s things from high school. She grabs the first yearbook she finds, flips through until she finds a photo of her mom with a chin-length bob and a smile, her arm around another girl who, according to the caption, is Samantha Torres.
***
Kiara loves winter.
She loves the cold weather and the first flurries of snow and no school. The atmosphere in town is drastically less Hallmark movie set than usual with Harris in a coma in the hospital after racing Zac who Alicia refuses to talk to for reasons she isn’t ready to share. The tables have really turned because Caitlyn’s the one with the boy now and Kiara hasn’t returned any of her texts.
As she’s walking down Main Street, preferring the sounds of a quiet town to the dead silence in her house, a flyer for an open mic night at the local bar and grill catches her eye and not just because it’s covered in doodles of dicks. Kiara tears off the last tab with a phone number on it just as a frigid gust of wind picks up and whisks it out of her hand. An omen, probably.
Kiara goes to chase it, but Curtis Young snatches it up first. A metaphor right in front of her eyes.
“Uh, here.” Curtis offers her the slip.
She takes it. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Curtis gives her one of his devastating bad boy half-smiles that requires half the effort of a full smile, but makes most girls in this town swoon. Most girls. “So, uh, have you talked to Caitlyn lately? How’s she doing?”
Kiara makes a face. “You haven’t?”
Curtis shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to talk to me right now.”
“But…” Kiara looks in the direction of the Commons, too public and pedestrian as far as spots go, but certainly makes the perfect backdrop for the big romantic kiss at the end of the movie. “I thought…”
“No. Not after what I told her about my family…”
Kiara frowns. She had tried to warn Caitlyn about Curtis since her first day, but knowing that he threatened Noah obviously didn’t stop her from kissing him out in the middle of town. What could have possibly changed her mind?
“Is this a car thing?” Kiara asks.
Curtis laughs lowly. He sounds and looks miserable. “You know what, forget I said anything.”
She should probably leave the conversation here. It’s none of her business. But at the same time…
“Caitlyn is the most understanding and accepting person I’ve ever met,” Kiara blurts out. Curtis stops in his tracks. “I don’t think she’d blame you for something your family did or hold it against you. She sees people too clearly for that. Just…give her time.”
“Aren’t you and her…?”
Kiara drops her eyes to the pavement. “Not like you and her. We’re just…friends.”
Curtis laughs humorlessly. “Oh, I’ve been there.”
She looks back at him and tilts her chin up to appear even closer to his height. “Then you know how lucky you are. She’s a good friend and if being with you makes her happy, a good friend would want that for her...”
Kiara hears her own words that are both crushing and true.
“I think you’re selling yourself short,” Curtis says. “I think there’s a reason she said she wanted to be friends when I first suggested more and it’s the same reason she wanted to go to Alicia Whitaker’s shitty party and put up with having lunch at a shitty burger joint with Team Bowers.”
Kiara stares at the ground again. She settled on conceding, on focusing on her next steps toward being her truest self before she could even think about dating, but now Curtis Young of all people is sowing seeds of hope in her heart. Life is strange.
Kiara laughs awkwardly. “This got super weird, didn’t it?”
Curtis laughs too, a little more genuine, a lot exasperated. “It’s been weird, but that’s Ironwood for you. And you’re right. A good friend would want her happy.”
“You know, you aren’t as scary as everyone seems to think you are.”
“Maybe you should stop listening to everyone.”
“Trust me, I’m working on it,” Kiara says, and means it.
“Better late than never, I guess.” He starts to leave again, but not before glancing at the flyer the slip of paper came from. “Good luck with your thing.”
“Thanks.”
Curtis gives her a nod before putting his helmet back on and taking off on his bike. Kiara watches him go and still has that sick, sinking feeling in her stomach, but does her best to push it down. If he’s who Caitlyn decides she wants once she decides, if he can make her happiest… Well then, Caitlyn could have chosen worse.
***
Once it’s too late to play her guitar without pissing off her parents enough for her dad to actually say something to her, but too early to sleep, Kiara looks at the last text Caitlyn sent her, casually inquiring about her plans for winter break, a text left unanswered.
What’s your favorite song? Kiara types out and hits send.
Caitlyn responds two minutes later with a link to an entire playlist.
That’s just so Caitlyn Torres.
To refuse to choose just one song to definite her. She needs a whole playlist. Caitlyn wants it all. Of course she does and should.
Kiara smiles stupid wide at her phone, puts in her wired earphones and listens to Caitlyn’s favorite songs until she falls asleep, letting the sounds swim around in her subconscious.
***
Sitting out at her favorite spot on the abandoned fairgrounds with her acoustic guitar, Kiara is determined to nail down her song for open mic night. This is an exercise in self-expression. It’s going to be cathartic or so she keeps telling herself. She feels close, but like something is still missing. Kiara plays a chord. Shakes her head. Drops to an F. Yeah, that’s better. There could be something there. She tries out different lyrics and plucks away on the acoustic, testing, trying, searching for what fits and feels right.
“So this isn’t your spot just for firefly observation?” Caitlyn sneaks up on her.
“The quiet and the cold help me think,” she replies. “Hi, what are you doing here?”
“I have a new project, a Datsun Z that needs a serious rebuild, but the next shipment of parts isn’t coming until next week and I hear it’s good to get out of the garage sometimes.” Caitlyn sits beside her. “It’s nice enough out to go for a walk and I saw you out here. Thought I’d say hey.”
“Hey,” Kiara says in return.
“You’ve been busy this break,” Caitlyn says. “I saw the new look on Alicia’s Instagram. Edgy.”
“Yeah.” She tugs off her slouchy beanie to show it off.
And Caitlyn can only laugh amusedly.
“What?” Kiara smiles at the sound of that laugh that makes all of the music she’s been working on seem dull in comparison.
“Nothing bad. It’s just, my mom’s car has a stripe down the side just like this.” Caitlyn traces along the line that cuts from Kiara’s temple along the side of her head and if she instinctively leans into Caitlyn’s touch, she’ll blame the cold.
“You sure it’s not bad?”
“No, just a funny coincidence. It works for you. I like it.”
Kiara tires not to preen under the praise, but it’s so hard. She lets the smallest smile surface. “I’m glad someone other than me likes it. My mom took it arguably worse than…me coming out to her.”
Caitlyn’s eyes go wide and it’s…cute. “You came out to your mom?”
“Not in so many words, but she knows now whether she wants to accept it or not.”
“Are you okay?”
“I mean, yeah. My parents haven’t thrown me out or anything. They’re in their denial phase.”
“Okay, but I meant you. Is Kiara okay?”
She takes a moment to think about it. “Kiara is…good. Taking baby steps to being true to myself.”
“Okay, but does Kiara also speak in the third person, like, all the time now?” Caitlyn teases.
“You set me up for that. So not cool.” Kiara shoulders into her playfully and when she doesn’t pull back, Caitlyn doesn’t either, their arms stay touching. Again, for the warmth.
“I’m proud of you,” Caitlyn says. “It couldn’t have been easy.”
“Nothing’s ever easy, right?” Kiara repeats what she taught her. “Whatever the risk, I think it was worth it. I think I’m better for it.”
“Look at you go,” Caitlyn smiles.
“Oh, since you’re here…” Kiara pulls her phone out and opens her photos. Caitlyn shifts even closer to see the screen. “This is your mom, right?”
“Yeah, that’s my mom in high school alright. Oh, my god. Look at that outfit.”
“The other girl in the picture is my mom. I think they were friends, 'best friends forever' according to the message in the back. It was a little more than ‘have a great summer.’ I found this in a box of her old stuff. Did your mom say anything about even knowing my mom?”
“Just that they went to school together, not that they were BFFs,” Caitlyn replies. “What about your mom?”
“No, but I feel like there’s something she isn’t telling me. And she thinks I’ve been acting different ever since your family came to town…”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Caitlyn stands and spins around to face her with a mischievous smile and an outstretched hand. “Show me?”
Kiara’s brows shoot up toward her hairline. “You want to see a box of my mom’s old junk?”
“And the mayor’s residence. I’ll give you a minute to clean up your room…unless that’s not cool…”
“No, let’s go.” Kiara sets her guitar back into its leather case and clasps it shut. “Just promise not to judge my driving, especially in this weather. The roads were a little slick on the way here.”
“How many times did it take you to pass your road test?”
“Three,” Kiara confesses. “That must be so lame to a car head.”
“Not at all.” Caitlyn links their arms and stays that close as they walk to her car. “It’s you so it’s cute.”
And suddenly Kiara doesn’t feel the cold at all.
***
Kiara descends the ladder from the attic with the cardboard box of her mom’s stuff tucked under one arm. “Is it everything you thought it would be?”
“A life-size historical dollhouse,” Caitlyn says from the foot of Kiara’s bed that she makes every day out of muscle memory. “You’re performing at open mic night? I saw it on your calendar.”
Kiara rolls her eyes and plops down next to Caitlyn. “I wouldn’t call it a performance. More like glorified karaoke.”
“Will it be a Kiara Gibbons original?”
“That’s the plan. Also what I’ve been so focused on all break. I’m trying to get it to sound like me, but I still feel like it’s missing something. I don’t know.”
“Am I distracting you right now?”
“A welcomed distraction,” Kiara assures her.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”
“I figured you were busy…”
“Not too busy for you. I’ll be there.” Now it’s Caitlyn’s turn to reassure her and she does so with such conviction, like everything Caitlyn does. “Speaking of winter break plans, my brother and Marcel are planning this big snowboarding trip now that Marcel is back from New York. I know Zac is trying to work things out with Alicia and wanted to invite her.”
“Yeah, she’s been practically camped out in the hospital, waiting for Harris to wake up. I think it’d be good for her to get away from everything Ironwood. Sounds fun. I can talk to her and try to convince her to go, if you want.”
“Kiara, I’m inviting you.” Caitlyn puts a hand on Kiara’s bicep and looks her directly in the eyes. “I don’t know how it’ll compare to the Poconos, but I want you to come along.”
Kiara nods, nods, nods, pressing her lips together, debating if she should asks, then asking, “What about Curtis? Is he going to be there?”
Caitlyn looks away, her mood souring in an instant. “No, we’re…giving each other space. I don’t really know what’s going on with Curtis these days...”
“I think you should. You should know, Caitlyn.”
“Okay, why are we talking about Curtis right now?” Caitlyn asks, and she sounds annoyed. “It wasn’t too long ago you were warning me about him.”
“Yes, I did that,” she nods, “but that’s not who I am anymore. That’s not the kind of person I want to be. Apparently actually talking to someone instead of just taking Noah’s word for it makes a whole world of difference.”
“Love that for you,” Caitlyn says, her eyes assessing like the time she looked until the hood of Noah’s car. “You talked to Curtis? About what? Me?”
Kiara shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Hey,” Caitlyn says sharply, leaning forward to meet Kiara’s eyes. “You don’t have to pretend, remember? Not with me. You can talk to me, especially when it isn’t easy.”
“No more pretending,” Kiara mutters under her breath, letting the words roll around on her tongue. She takes a breath and tells herself to be brave. “I like you. I think I’ve been embarrassingly obvious about that since, like, the moment we met, but I was dating Noah and I couldn’t even be honest with basically anyone in my life at the time.”
“But now you can…” Caitlyn nudges her on and Kiara can’t let herself hope. She shouldn’t and yet…
“I want to be. I’m trying to be and like you said, it isn’t easy, but I feel good about myself in a way I’m not sure I did before.”
“You look good too.”
Kiara lets out a cross between an exasperated breath and a laugh. “And you flirting with me all the time has both helped and not helped, I think. That’s what that was, right? Unless I’ve misinterpreted our entire…” She motions between them with the flail of her wrist.
“I’ve been flirting with you since, like, the moment we met.” Caitlyn grins and Kiara catches her face mirroring it entirely out of her control.
But then Kiara drops her gaze to the pretty floral duvet that her mom's go-to interior decorator chose like everything else in the house. “But you and Curtis, also obvious… And after we talked briefly outside of Wade’s Diner, I can see why you like him even though I don’t share in it. Not like that. We just talked about…what it means to be…a friend.”
“So you’re saying you started a Caitlyn Torres Friend Zone Support Group?”
“No,” Kiara says emphatically. “We just came to a…mutual understanding that you should be happy and that’s what’s important.”
“Yet you came by my uncle’s garage to tell me you broke up with your boyfriend then ghosted.”
“I don’t know what you want from me. I know I came on too strong in the beginning and then I saw you kissing Curtis so naturally I thought I should pull back and shave half my hair off. What else was I supposed to do?”
“Well, the new look was a good idea, at least.”
“Thank you,” Kiara says quietly.
They’re both quiet for a small stretch and Kiara is afraid to look at her. Asking for honesty is one thing. Dealing with what you find out, especially if it’s something you didn’t want to hear, is another.
When one of them finally breaks the silence, it’s Caitlyn. “Does the Kiara Gibbons you want to be not fight for what she wants?”
“Not at the expense of what you want.”
Caitlyn lifts her chin challengingly. “And if I said I want to kiss you?”
Kiara blinks. “Are you serious?”
“Wow, I know you had to take your driver’s test three times, but—“
Kiara surges forward and kisses her right in the middle of what was surely more teasing. Caitlyn is silenced by it. Amazed. A giddy grin breaks out on her face, the biggest, brightest one yet, something Kiara wouldn’t think was possible if she weren’t witnessing it with her own amazed eyes. Caitlyn buries a hand in Kiara’s hair, fingers trailing across the buzzed back to reel her in to kiss again.
The box of her mom’s old keepsakes tumbles out of her lap and hits the floor, but neither of them can be bothered with that, too busy kissing again, too desperate to move and be closer. If seeing Caitlyn for the first time is like hearing your favorite song for the first time, kissing her is like hearing your favorite song live—thrilling, euphoric, real. She never wants it to end.
“Kiara!”
They break away, both left breathless, both turning to see her mom in the doorway, still dressed in one of her professional pantsuits, staring at them like she’s flashing back to a different time and place.
“Mom, what are you doing home?” Kiara tries to act casual, like being walked in on by your mom the first time you kiss a girl is a totally normal thing. She plans to make the latter her new normal going forward and her mom can accept that, mind her own business or break her own embarrassing habit herself.
“Hi, Mayor Gibbons,” Caitlyn greets her, sounding just as out of breath but putting in more of an effort to sound polite. “We were just about to order a pizza. What’s your favorite pizza topping?”
Kiara giggles unexpectedly because that’s just so Caitlyn. So cool and casual under circumstances that would break anyone else.
“I think you should go, Miss Torres,” Mayor Gibbons says tightly. “I need a word alone with my daughter.”
“Mom.”
“Kiara, enough.”
“It’s cool.” Caitlyn gives Kiara a supportive squeeze on her forearm before heading to the door. “I’ll text you.”
“I drove you here. At least let me take you home.” Kiara hops up and grabs her jacket, giving her mom a helpless shrug when she sees the angry vein throbbing in her forehead. “Mom, it’s snowing.”
“Fine,” Mayor Gibbons says through her teeth. “Miss Torres, would you give us a minute please?”
“I’ll just go wait outside...”
“Thank you,” her mom says, but she doesn’t even look at Caitlyn, her cold stare never leaving her daughter.
Kiara faces her mom and hears Caitlyn’s voice in her head, does the Kiara Gibbons you want to be not fight for what she wants?
“Mom, I told you—”
“She’s going to hurt you,” her mom says and fully believes what she’s saying. “Her father left her mom and her mom left Ironwood. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day she’s going to leave and I don’t want to see you left heartbroken.”
Kiara scoffs. “Caitlyn isn’t her mom and I’m not you.”
“You’d be surprised how history has a way of repeating itself, especially in this town.”
“Okay, mom.” Kiara grabs her keys and stares at the untouched box of her mom’s old things that spilled onto the floor. A mystery for another day. “I’ll be back later.”
“Kiara.”
She turns back at the way her mom’s voice cracks on her name. She turns back and sees a woman so haunted, a glimmer of regret buried deep beneath iron resolve. The older woman sighs and settles for, “Just be careful.”
Kiara nods, slips her jacket on and heads out. She rushes down the stairs, pushes past the front door, but pauses in her step when she sees Caitlyn standing out in the snow-dusted frond yard, arms out, catching snowflakes on her tongue, or at least trying to. Caitlyn looks so unbothered, so free even for just a moment and it’s up there with the most beautiful things Kiara has ever seen. Top ten easily.
“Having fun?” Kiara calls out.
“More than you,” Caitlyn shoots back, “but that’s about to change.” She makes grabby hands in her direction and Kiara’s feet automatically take her closer. “How did that go?”
“It went.” Feeling bold, she pulls Caitlyn in for a hug. It’s the best feeling in the world when the embrace is returned, feeling Caitlyn’s arms around her, holding her tight. “You should text your brother and Marcel, your mom and uncle too, ask what kind of pizza they want. It’s on me. Technically, on my parents.”
“Oooh, even better,” Caitlyn says. “You want to meet my mom?”
“I want to know everything about you. I want to see your world.”
“Yeah, okay,” Caitlyn smiles, pulling on Kiara’s hand toward the car. “Just don’t be alarmed by Marcel’s extensive pizza preferences.”
“Noah puts ketchup on his pizza.”
Caitlyn makes a face. “Ew, gross.”
“Extremely gross.” Kiara laughs.
“Aren’t you glad you’re free of that?”
“Extremely glad.” Kiara leans down and steals a quick kiss. It’s the best feeling when Caitlyn smiles into it.
Later, when Kiara officially meets Caitlyn’s mom, Sam Torres has a haunted look in her eyes similar to her mom, but still greets Kiara with a warm hug that feels like an unspoken apology, but she can’t be sure what she could possibly feel sorry for. It goes on so long that Caitlyn mutters an embarrassed, emphatic, “Mom.” Sam welcomes her into their home and treats Kiara how she treats Marcel who she treats like one of her own. And maybe this is what family and home is supposed to feel like.
(When Kiara gets back to her house later that night, that box of her mom’s old junk from high school is nowhere to be found.)
***
“Are you getting Zac something for Christmas?”
Alicia looks over a display of wooden toy cars in one of the small gift shops on Main Street. “Thinking about it. Things are…complicated, but I can tell he genuinely wants to make up for his mistakes… Maybe something stupid and tacky like fuzzy dice for his car.”
“Caitlyn’s car,” Kiara corrects her. “Zac just drives it.”
Alicia doesn’t say it outright, but she knows she wants to compare her to a lovesick puppy and Kiara would happily shoulder the comparison. “So, are you, like, official?”
“I don’t know.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“I’m taking it day-by-day. I’m taking pretty much everything day-by-day.”
“And you aren’t worried Curtis Young is going to whisk her away on his motorcycle one day?” Alicia tries to ask in a way that keeps the atmosphere light, but the look in her eyes is sharp and protective. It’s touching.
“Honestly, the thought is always there in the back of my head no matter what I do,” Kiara confesses. “But…Caitlyn accepted me before I could even accepted myself so I can do the same for her and ultimately what she wants. I want to. Getting to spend time with her and getting to know her is worth the risk.”
Alicia laughs. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just, you were never like this with Noah. Not even close.”
Kiara rolls her eyes. “And now we know why.”
“I love this journey for you and I’m glad I get to be apart of it.”
“Me too.”
***
Kiara once made a habit of immediately going home whenever she felt overwhelmed and didn't know how to deal with her feelings. Now when it’s mind-numbingly quiet (and lonely) at home, going over to Logan’s Garage becomes a habit, a routine, a comfort.
She indeed watches Caitlyn work (still impressive) on her latest project and occasionally provides background music that Marcel deems “coffeehouse singer-songwriter, very chill.” They put up festive Christmas decorations and occasionally Caitlyn will talk her into instigating a snowball fight. Zac is always the prime target and he’s in much higher spirits now that Harris has been discharged from the hospital and is on the road to recovery.
Sometimes Caitlyn will take a break, wander over to where Kiara is sitting on the couch, takes her guitar out of her lap and replaces it with herself.
“How did you first know?” Kiara asks while they’re lying together on the couch, playing with Caitlyn’s small yet strong mechanic hands. “That you were…?”
“Bi,” Caitlyn supplies, but the smallest tremor in her voice betrays the tough, untouchable front that serves as her defense mechanism. “There was a guy back in Brooklyn. Everyone kind of hated him, but I got to see a different side to him. Made me feel special. There was also his best friend who said things about how gender can feel so limiting and we’re all just stardust and I was just so enamored with how they glowed. But with me still trying to figure my stuff out, it got messy. I hear they’re still friends, but neither of them talk to me anymore. It was one of the reasons I wasn’t so against moving here…”
“I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t feel sorry for me.” Caitlyn groans into Kiara’s shoulder. “I’m the one who stayed in neutral until everything imploded.”
“Still, it sucks to lose people when you’re just trying to decide what you want and what’s best for you.” Kiara pulls Caitlyn in even closer. “I, for one, am happy you moved here.”
“I’m sure you are.” Caitlyn smiles, playing with the emerald crystal Kiara wears around her neck. Harmony, rebirth, the awakening of the heart.
“Mhmm.”
“What about you?” Caitlyn asks. “When did you first know you liked girls?”
“I don’t think I really knew until you.”
Caitlyn rolls her eyes. “Stop.”
“No, seriously. When I was younger, I could convince myself I just intensely admired others girls and everyone feels that way about the US Women’s National Soccer Team obviously.”
“Oh, obviously.”
“I didn’t think this feeling could be something I can pursue until you.”
“Kiara Gibbons, are you telling me I’m your gay awakening?”
Kiara laugh-scoffs. “You’re being so smug right now.”
“Flattered, actually,” Caitlyn beams. “And a little smug, but mostly the first one.”
“I can’t imagine who I’d be if you didn’t move here. Probably still with Noah, doing the same shit every day, going to the same shitty parties, letting shitty behavior slide…”
“She was pretty cute, but I like getting to see you change and grow.”
When she sees the playful glint in Caitlyn’s eyes and the way her gaze drift down to her lips, Kiara has to kiss her. Sweetly. Lazily. Like winter break will last forever and they have all the time in the world.
“What?” Kiara asks when she leans back and catches Caitlyn staring at her in the softest way.
“Nothing. Just…how easy this is.”
“Are you calling me easy?”
“No.” Caitlyn snuggles closer. “I’ve never really talked to anyone about me or what happened back in Brooklyn like this. Not even my family. Like I said, my mom is all unconditional support, but we've never gone into the details or unpacked the past. It's all about what's next with her. And my brother knows, but we don't have deep discussions about my sexuality. It’s different with you. A good, refreshing different.”
“Because we don’t have to pretend anymore, right?”
“Right.” Caitlyn leans in and kisses her oh so softly. “So, you wanna check out my loft?”
“Inappropriate!” Logan shouts, walking into the garage wearing a stringy Santa beard. “You two are good right where you are.”
Caitlyn narrows her eyes. “Why are you wearing that?”
“None of your business,” he retorts self-consciously, making his way to the back of the shop.
“Oh,” Caitlyn says. “You got caught up in Zac and Marcel’s ‘totally epic’ Christmas prank war, didn’t you? It’s stuck to your face, isn’t it?”
“This never happened!” Logan shouts from somewhere out of sight.
Laughing, Caitlyn lays her head back on Kiara’s shoulder. “Open mic night is coming up. Are you nervous?”
“A bit, but I think I finally got the song just right.”
“Is it going to be, like, moody and introspective?”
“You’ll see,” Kiara replies, and starts to doze, mostly to stop from blurting out what her heart is bursting to share.
(It’s a love letter.)
***
Okay, maybe Kiara underestimated how nervous she would be in the hours leading up to open mic night. It’s not even a great turnout, but it’s still more people than just her playing in her bedroom.
“Hey. You’re going to be great.”
Caitlyn gives Kiara’s hand a squeeze. They haven’t graduated to PDA in the town center, keenly aware that the mayor’s gay daughter kissing the daughter of a legendary fugitive in public will definitely affect how people will look at her mom and her mom’s bid for eventual statewide office. Kiara isn’t quite ready for that risk yet and Caitlyn is understanding. Always understanding.
“I hope you don’t mind I invited a few people.” Caitlyn glances over her shoulder to where her mom, Zac and Marcel are all in loud, ugly Christmas sweaters. Logan, however, abstained. “I had to bring a whole cheering section to my rockstar girlfriend’s first public performance.”
Kiara’s heart does a little hiccup. “Girlfriend?”
“Yes,” Caitlyn says decidedly. “Oh, oh my god. What? One public performance and you’re going to sign a record deal, leave town for the big city and forget all about me?”
“I could never forget you even if I tried and I don’t plan to.” Kiara squeezes her hand in return, so happy she could kiss her and oh she’s tempted to right here in front of everyone. “Girlfriend works.”
“I think so too.” Caitlyn smiles that blindingly bright smile. “And if it’s a total train wreck, Zac and Marcel look so stupid that’s all anyone will remember about tonight.”
“I thank them for their service.” Kiara pulls Caitlyn into a hug that’s readily returned.
“Stop worry, you’re going to kill it,” Caitlyn says. “It’s you, Kiara. How can it be bad?”
Pulling back, Kiara takes a deep breath. “Okay.”
As she waits off to the side for her turn, Kiara scans the audience if you can call the handful of people barely paying attention an audience. Mostly, people seemed annoyed that the crowd is blocking access to the pool table. She doesn’t see her parents, but that doesn’t surprise her. She isn’t doing this for them, but for herself. She does see Caitlyn and Alicia talking and getting along. Thank Santa Claus.
The high school shop teacher is apparently the emcee for the night and manages to not mention the words “homecoming queen” or “mayor’s daughter” when he introduces her. Acoustic guitar hanging off her body, Kiara steps onto the stage and is immediately bathed in pink and orange lights.
“Hi, everyone,” Kiara says into the microphone, but she’s looking at one specific smiling face. “I’m going to play you a Kiara Gibbons original. I call this, Pale Turquoise.”