SUGARSNAP: a spooky sapphic romance novella (BABYLOVE #2) by Belle I.S

Author:Belle, I.S. [Belle, I.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-25T00:00:00+00:00

chapter eight

Frankie knocked twice.

Ivy’s bedroom door swung open. She was in her kitten PJs, which she only wore when she needed comfort.

Frankie waved. Held up a box of Ivy’s favorite form of comfort other than her girlfriend. “Guess who’s on Hock Duty today?”

Hock Duty was what townsfolk did when the baker, Mr. Hockstetter, passed out drunk in the kitchen. Which was most days. Because it was right next to the police station, this usually meant cops serving up muffins and coffee. One of the cops, Deputy Lissiter, actually added extra treats to the menu. People lined up around the block when he was behind the counter. Deputy Lissiter in an apron meant crusty pies, sweet buns, and most importantly: raspberry donuts à la Lissiter, Ivy’s favorite.

Ivy held the door open. Frankie snuck in. It was Friday night, and Ivy’s parents had been as begrudging as ever to see Frankie. Luckily there had been no damage to Mr. Wexler’s car when they’d snuck it back into the garage.

You girls spend all day together , Mr. Wexler had said when he opened the front door. Gonna be spending all tomorrow together, getting ready for the dance. Can’t spend one night apart, huh?

Nope, Frankie had said, walking in donut-box-first.

Their dresses hung from the doorknob of Ivy’s closet, black on red. Frankie would indeed come over to get ready. And then…

Frankie shuddered.

“What?”

Frankie shook her head as she settled on the bed. “Cold.”

Ivy pulled up the duvet, folding it around Frankie’s shoulders. “Gimme that box.”

Frankie pulled it open. Four donuts sat at the bottom, gleaming pink.

“How did they still have any left?”

Frankie shrugged. “Lissiter does orders if you pay him extra. I picked these up. I…I want to make a joke about policemen and donuts but I can’t think of any. Pretend I said something good.”

Ivy twisted her mouth, trying to keep the smile under control. She had bags under her eyes. She insisted she was sleeping alright, but she still yawned in class. She wasn’t falling asleep in class like Frankie—or in the resulting detention, jerking awake from strange, muddled dreams where someone was singing a song that slipped from her fingers between one blink and the next; the teacher staring at the unexplainable tears flowing down her cheeks—but she still yawned in class, although without actually falling asleep. Frankie, on the other hand, would find herself jerking awake during a lesson, or the resulting detention, emerging from strange, muddled dreams where someone was singing a song that slipped from her focus between one blink and the next, the teacher staring at the unexplainable tears.

Still, Ivy was definitely tired. The one time Frankie had dared to ask about Ivy's dreams, Ivy had claimed they were normal. Frankie said, "Yeah, me too." Ivy looked disappointed, but denied it.

Ivy took a donut from the box. “Thank you,” she said quietly, and chewed.

Their knees bumped. They munched on donuts. It could have been a comfortable silence, if not for the dead sister and the dreams and the secrets and the screams.

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