a girls love
The courtyard buzzed with the chaotic energy of a crowd hungry for drama. A ring of onlookers formed a loose circle, their murmurs mixing with the rustle of wind through the sparse trees lining the school grounds. The sky was a washed-out gray, promising rain but withholding it for now, casting an eerie pall over the scene. The air smelled faintly of damp grass and sweat, mingling with the metallic tang of blood.
I was on the ground, bloody and bruised, my knees scraping against the jagged gravel. My school uniform—a cream blouse and pleated mocha skirt, stained with dirt and ripped at the hem—clung to me awkwardly. My hair, usually brushed neatly to frame my face, hung in wild tangles, streaked with dust and loose strands sticking to the sweat on my forehead. I tried to push myself up, my arms trembling under my weight, when Sabeleth’s boot pressed against my back, forcing me down.
Her voice came, soft and mocking, yet clear enough to cut through the murmurs of the crowd. “Such an indecent woman. A dirty little whore,” she cooed, each word dripping with exaggerated sweetness, as if she were scolding a child.
“Stop calling me that!” I snapped, my voice raw, hoarse from shouting and humiliation. “Get off me!” I struggled against her weight, but it was no use. She kept me pinned like a predator toying with its prey.
Sabeleth’s smile curved, wicked and sultry, as she leaned down slightly. Her voice, low and smooth, dripped venomous amusement. “No,” she said simply. “Look at you. Everyone’s watching you squirm, little worm.” She tilted her head, her gaze roaming over my battered form. “Your lips are so red, like a prostitute.”
The words stung worse than the bruises blooming on my arms and legs. “I’m not!” I shouted, twisting under her, trying to free myself. “Stop calling me that!”
Her hand struck me sharply across the face before I could finish. The sting spread across my cheek, hot and humiliating. I gasped, my vision blurring momentarily as the crowd erupted into gasps and murmurs.
She crouched down beside me, her shadow falling over my crumpled form, and tilted her head mockingly. “I wonder what your boyfriend would say,” she mused, her voice laced with feigned curiosity. “If he saw you kissing a girl. Do you think he’d be proud? Or maybe disgusted?”
The words hit like daggers, cutting deeper than I cared to admit. “Fat chance!” I spat back, the defiance in my voice trembling under the weight of my shame. “I’d never kiss a girl! That’s—”
“Gross?” Sabeleth finished for me, raising an eyebrow. Her lips curved into a sly smile, and before I could process what was happening, she leaned in.
The moment her lips brushed mine, the world seemed to stop. The murmur of the crowd fell into silence, the cold wind seemed to vanish, and my racing heart drowned out everything else. Her lips were soft—so much softer than I expected—and warm, a stark contrast to her biting words.
For a moment, I froze, my mind reeling. Then, against every ounce of reason, I leaned into the kiss. My eyes fluttered shut, and I felt a warmth spread through me, something forbidden and electric. It wasn’t just her lips—it was the taste of her, a faint trace of mint and something indefinably her.
But the moment I parted my lips, tentatively reaching out with my tongue, it all came crashing down.
Sabeleth pulled back abruptly, her face twisted in disgust as she spat onto the ground. “What the fuck?” she hissed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as though she’d been poisoned. “Ew! You weren’t supposed to like it, freak!”
The laughter from the crowd erupted instantly, a cacophony of jeers and snickers that drowned out the pounding in my ears. My cheeks burned with humiliation, the taste of her still lingering on my lips.
Sabeleth turned, addressing a group of boys in the crowd with a theatrical roll of her eyes. “Man, that was weird,” she said, her tone casual and mocking, as though she were recounting a bad joke. “She leaned in and kissed me back! Next time you guys tell me to bully someone, don’t pick some gay, closeted weirdo.”
The words cut deeper than the laughter, slicing through me like a knife. I stayed on the ground, trembling, my fists clenching the torn fabric of my skirt. I wanted to disappear, to melt into the gravel beneath me. My chest ached, but I couldn’t tell if it was from the fight or the betrayal.
Why did it hurt so much?
I didn’t know what I hated more—the humiliation of being mocked in front of everyone or the memory of the kiss that refused to leave my mind. It replayed over and over, a loop I couldn’t escape. The softness of her lips, the heat of her breath, the way her scent lingered, sweet and sharp. It was disgusting, and yet…
There was a part of me that didn’t want to stop replaying it.
LLater that night, or maybe it's morning? I don't know, I didn't sleep well. I lay in bed, staring at the cracked ceiling of my room. My body ached, every bruise a reminder of the fight, every scratch screaming at my body that I lost. My blouse was folded neatly on the chair by the door, its fabric torn and stained beyond repair. The chair itself was shoved against the door, a makeshift barrier against the outside world. My phone sat on the nightstand, the screen glowing faintly with dozens of missed calls and messages.
The taste of her lingered, no matter how much water I drank, no matter how hard I scrubbed my lips. My thoughts were a tangled mess, shifting between anger, humiliation, and something I couldn’t quite name.
I got out of bed, the cool wooden floor sending a shiver through my bare feet. The rain had finally started, a gentle patter against the window. I brushed my hair absently, the bristles catching on the knots from the day’s chaos. My reflection stared back at me, tired and disheveled. My fur—a soft blend of cream and mocha—was streaked with faint smudges of dirt. My red-grey-brown hair hung limply around my face, still slightly damp from earlier.
I traced a finger over my lips, my chest tightening. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about it? About her? Sabeleth, with her sharp eyes and cruel smile. Her boyish frame that moved with a grace I hadn’t expected, a femininity that caught me off guard in the heat of our duel. She had bested me so effortlessly, so completely. And in that kiss, she had done it again.
My lips tingled at the memory, and I felt a flush crawl up my neck to my cheeks. It was disgusting. It was wrong. But… I smiled, just a little.
“Mom,” I whispered to the empty room, my voice barely audible over the rain. “I kissed a girl today.”
I let the words hang in the air, tasting them like a secret too sweet to share. The rain continued its quiet rhythm, and for the first time since the fight, I let myself close my eyes and just feel.