Two huge towers of books rested on top of the desk, right in our field of view, a stark reminder of the times that were ending and to come.

They had arrived earlier than expected, so Abby and I got up early to go pick them up from the bookstore as soon as it opened, but once we got back, we went straight to bed. Some might say we were wasting our time by just loafing there, but we’d strongly disagree. In less than two weeks we’d have to go back to classes, so the time we could stay cuddled, lazy and pampering each other was ticking away. Waking up obscenely early, get ready, go to school, stay there for about ten hours to then come home, do homework, study and the odd school assignment would swallow all the free time we’d have for that. There would still be the weekends, sure, but even those would have some of the same busywork of the week, plus the house chores that piled up.

We were spooning as we watched a movie on her tablet. We had placed it on the chair that typically would be at her desk but we were using as a support. The TV at the foot of the bed was working fine, but we were in the mood of snuggling on our side, Abby using my arm as a headrest while her own head served as mine.

“Another one?” she asked, extending an arm out to close the window and open a new movie file.

I had other plans in mind, so I pulled her hand back under the covers and started giving special attention to her ear and neck.

“Hehe, another one?” she asked in a moany voice. “You know, maybe we should start cutting back on the number of times we make love.”

I stopped kissing and stared at her.

It’s not like I hadn’t thought of that. I’d freely admit, we did it far too often, and once school starts, we’d practically go cold turkey. We’d still be able to do it when we went to bed, but not as often in the morning, and we certainly wouldn’t be able to do it during the day… Not without risking getting expelled at least.

“Pfft, ah-haha! Fine, we can start doing that starting from tomorrow. Now, let me see those cute tan lines.”

She turned completely around and began kissing the thin porcelain-coloured strip of skin I had running down my shoulders, fruit of three trips to the pool, while her words lingered in my mind. A worry had suddenly reared its ugly head once I contrasted what we’ve been like during the summer with how we’ll have to be until at least the winter holiday.

“…Do you think we do it too much?”

She got on her back and grabbed a hand she began playing with.

“You and I are different in that regard. I sometimes get in the mood, but as long as I get kisses and cuddles, I’m all good for the most part. Not you though. You need it more often and it needs to be something more stimulating than just cuddling and making out. That’s just how it is.”

“But am I forcing you?”

“Pfft, no!” she chuckled. “I’m always craving for love and attention, remember? Every time you’re in the mood and start initiating, I’m more than happy to oblige. As long as I’m not dying of something that is, but if I were, you’d be nursing me and driving me crazy from fussing too much. Thanks for being so considerate though.”

That was a relief to hear. And it wasn’t at all surprising that she had me better figured out than myself. Were I to describe what she just did, I’d say the exact same thing about her, but regarding me? I’d probably let my own shame of being such a hormonal teen get into the way of reaching a meaningful conclusion.

“So? Are we doing it or not?” she asked, giving me a devilish smile, a finger tracing the tan lines in my upper body.

“…Actually, can I ask you something else that has been bugging me?”

“Something sexy?”

Not by a long shot, no. Why would I even describe it as “bugging me” if it was something sexy?

The movie we just watched was a romance about a married couple where one of them cheated, but in the end, the guilty party was forgiven and they stayed together. From early on there was a question it raised in my mind: in our same sex female relationship, what does constitute as cheating?

Abby made a joke, asking if I was planning on doing it, but after laughing and saying I’d sooner spontaneously combust—which was a very accurate assessment, in my opinion—she joined me into figuring out what could be called cheating.

We started from the most serious transgression, but after sleeping with another girl and kissing somebody else, things got very blurry.

“I guess… If any of us were to, say, walk around holding hands with Mathilda, it would be ok as long as it was a joke between friends,” she wondered out loud.

I bet Mathilda would have a ball if she heard us using her as an example. I also wonder what her opinion on the matter would be.

“Yeah, but how does the other know that’s what’s going on?”

“Hmm, I suppose it all boils down to trust on each other, and accountability? This is hard… If we were a boy and a girl, it’d be easier, I think, but since none of us is a boy, it makes it all the more contextual.”

And speaking of boys, what about two guys dating? Did they also have these weird, blurred lines? I didn’t think so as I don’t see them acting physically intimate like girls do between friends, but then again, I’m a girl. What do I know about what’s going on in their minds? Although, judging by what thoughts my dad let out, they could be the weirdest, most random thing. Like, if a planet the size of Mars passed close by the Earth at the speed of light, would we be affected by its gravitational pull, or would we not notice it at all due to it not being close for long enough to have any effect? And for clarity sake, this was a legit thought my dad was having once when I bothered to ask why he was blankly staring into the emptiness.

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“Pfft, what?” Abby snickered. “Do you think mine also has those kinds of thoughts?”

I didn’t know, and at this point I was past caring. We had dilly-dawdle long enough. My mind was at ease, and Abby was as irresistible as ever nibbling my index finger, so with that, I dove in.

*Knock, knock, knock*

“And of course, we are interrupted,” I grumbled with my face buried in the pillow.

“Look on the bright side: at least we weren’t interrupted in the middle of it thanks to our conversation,” Abby told me quietly, gently tapping my back as consolation.

William wanted to come inside and talk, a huge bother because that forced us to put on clothes we’d have to take out after he left. Stuff like this was bound to happen, especially if we were going down to business with any of our parents at home, but couldn’t they wait for us to gather for lunch or dinner to tell us about whatever popped into their minds? More frustrating even was when it was simply to say they were going out and asking if we needed anything. We were the ones that took care of groceries nine out of ten times, if we needed anything, we’d go out to get it, we already got, or we’d get it on our way home after one of our couple’s walk. It was nice of them, don’t get me wrong, but still…

“…I can’t wait for us to have our own place,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Babe?”

I lifted my head, realising I had spoken out loud unintentionally. Abby was grinning ear to ear and bobbing side to side.

“Just two more years, ok?” she told me.

She kissed my burning hot face and gave me a once over. To further annoy me, she pointed out that I had put on my shorts backwards.

Well, tough luck.

I wasn’t going to take them out and put them back on, only to then take them out again. I was going to be sitting anyway, so I didn’t care.

William came in after Abby told him he could step inside. He apologised for bothering us, but wouldn’t speak any further. Instead, he kept looking around the room, as if looking for something.

“Here,” she called out to him.

She hopped from where she sat on the bed to my lap, leaving a free spot she was tapping for her dad to sit on.

She’s so soft… ah, why does she have to be so nice to hold?

He gave a small tug to the fabric of his trousers at knee height before sitting down. He made his age known with the groan he let out as he lowered his body down. How long would it take for mine to start doing the same, I wonder?

“You just sounded like an old man,” Abby told him, not resisting the urge to poke fun at him, but also giving him a compassionate tap on the leg.

“I’m getting there,” he chuckled as he raised a finger to point at the desk. “Are those your new schoolbooks?”

“Yes, all twenty-eight of them,” I answered, trying to hurry the conversation along. I was still in the mood, and having Abby sitting on me and shifting her body around wasn’t helping. And it was twenty-eight for each of us, to be exact, making an absurd total sum of fifty-six books. One notebook for each subject, one manual for each except Math, Chemistry and Physics—those had two each, plus the same numbers for workbooks. A whole forest of—expensive—books.

“I don’t remember having so many subjects when I was your age, but getting to the point,” he said, checking his wristwatch, much to my silent appreciation. “I need to talk with you about something important.”

I readied myself for something bad, straightening my back and pulling Abby closer, just from the tone of his voice alone. Suddenly, all my plans of getting intimate with Abby almost completely vanished.

Abby’s sister would soon finish her internship, William told us in a single sharp exhale, and he wanted to ask if we—mostly Abby, but he was considerate to include me into the discussion—were ok with Sophie staying in the apartment until she figures out her life.

“Maybe I should leave,” I said, trying to get Abby off me, still not feeling like I should be included.

“No, I think the contrary. After all this time, and the fact you two act like newlyweds, you deserve a place in this conversation. I don’t think Abby here would like it if I asked you to leave either.”

I peeked at her. She looked up and gave me a nod. That was all I needed to convince me to stay.

I still didn’t think my opinion mattered much, but at least I could stay and give Abby my support.

“…Did she say anything about me and Violet?” Abby asked, seemingly forcing those words out of her mouth.

For the better or for the worst, she had not.

Abby kept shifting her weight, her body stiff compared to before. I kept gently moving my thumb on her arm to let her know she could turn to me any time.

“…I mean, this is also her home, so…”

“I could find her an apartment if the two of you aren’t comfortable to share the space.”

“No! I saw how hard it is to find a place at a good price and it not being a dump. We’ll… we’ll figure stuff out eventually…”

“…Violet?”

“Whatever Abby decides, I make it my decision too” I told him firmly.

He asked again if we were fine with that arrangement, but the conversation had been done the moment Abby told him not to go looking for a place for Sophie.

Before leaving, he placed a hand over Abby and clumsily said he loved her very much. I got the nagging feeling my dad had given him some pointers about how to have this talk. It had “Stanley Miller” written all over the place.

“Can we make love now?” she asked, hiding her face on my chest.

I was hardly in the mood for it anymore. Instead, I let her rest an ear over my chest as I run my hands through her back and hair. Maybe later, but right now, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything more than that. Not when she was feeling this down.

About an hour passed and she finally raised her head to look at my face.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“…I think we’ll have to make some further changes to how things will run.”

I feared as much, but I also knew it was unavoidable.

We both knew, if Sophie was still against it, having Abby and I acting the way we normally do could further increase her disgust and raise unwanted conflict between the three of us.

That would mean we’d go back to sleep in separate houses for a while, and as a result, spend a lot less time together.

“Haah, what a pain,” I sighed, rubbing my face.

“I’m so sorry babe… it’s all my…”

I looked at her, waiting for Abby to finish saying she was at fault here so I could deny it, but she shook her head, denying herself of the guilt.

Instead, she pulled her body up, and began kissing me.

“Let’s make the time we have left count,” she told me between pecks.

That was probably for the best. Our time of silly conversations and carefree days were coming to an end. For now, we’d enjoy our final two weeks of holiday together the best we could because soon, new tribulations were coming.

“I love you.”

“Hehe, I love you too. Love you to bits.”

It didn’t feel completely unwarranted, but I think we both somehow felt sure things would eventually be fine. But that might be from the happiness we always felt when we were together.