Had To Get Away

Khloe lay in bed, eyes shut, breathing soft with sleep. A floorboard creaked. Her eyes flew open. Heart hammering, she flicked on the lamp and shot upright. A sharp yelp caught in her throat when she spotted the figure by the wall, then melted into relief as Maya stepped into the light—her best friend, cheeks flushed, wearing that guilty half-smile. “Jesus, you scared me,” Khloe whispered, voice still thick with sleep. “What are you doing here?” Maya’s gaze dropped. Her parents had been ranting about the lesbian subplot on some sitcom, cruel jokes flying faster than commercials. She couldn’t listen to another word, so she climbed out her window, crossed two lawns, and slipped through Khloe’s back door. She wanted somewhere safe to stay the night. She also wanted to say something she’d been swallowing for years. “I think… I might be gay,” she admitted, voice barely there. Khloe patted the mattress. The offer came easy: she’d show Maya—slow, careful, no pressure—exactly what two women could feel together. Maya’s eyes widened, a tremor running through her. Would it get weird between them? Khloe shook her head. Best friends share secrets; tonight could be one more. Maya chewed her lip, nerves buzzing under her skin, then nodded, equal parts terrified and eager, already leaning closer.