Even Lovers Drown

Saylor's eyes found the ability to move, trailing from Blake's face to the candy in her hand. Caramel-filled chocolate to accent the written apology. Anxiety burst in her veins, rushing through her so quickly she didn't have the chance to attempt stifling it. Yells echoed in her ears, Katie's ever-present voice telling her not to eat. Memories of pain flashed through her head. Blake's hand became Katie's delicate hand holding out a bar of chocolate to her, almost a dare to take it and eat it in front of her. Promises that she could have a bite of chocolate if she kept her mouth shut in Katie's intoxicating voice danced in her ears.

Because the only time she ate caramel-filled chocolate was when Katie apologized.

Blake's hand snapped back into focus, throwing out the visions of Katie that plagued Saylor. Anxiety continued to flitter through her veins. Tremors threatened to take over her body. Clenching her fists at her sides, she held them back, the only thing she could do to keep control for the moment.

"I, um." Saylor paused and cleared her throat, meeting Blake's eyes. "I don't like chocolate."

Blake's smile fell, her blue eyes stared blankly at her. "You don't?"

Not anymore. Saylor's favorite candy had once been caramel-filled chocolate. Any extra money she had after paying her bills tended to go toward buying a small bag she could mindlessly devour while studying. But that was when she was still in college. That was when she was single and wondering why she couldn't get a girl to give her a second glance. That was before Katie.

Saylor shook her head. "No."

But Davy told her that Saylor liked caramel-filled chocolate. He repeated the alleged fact to Blake so many times she feared she would accidentally replace the words of her songs with the words "caramel-filled chocolate."

Blake glanced at him, searching for some sign of laughter. His eyebrows were drawn. Confusion swam in his green eyes. His lips were parted slightly. He hadn't been lying to her to make her look like an idiot. So how didn't he know what his sister's favorite candy was?

"Oh, well, um." Blake placed the chocolate on the table, just in case Saylor decided she wanted it later, and shoved her hands in her pocket. Rocking on her heels, she asked, "Is there something you do like?"

Saylor bit her lip, eyeing Blake's suddenly embarrassed, shy even, demeanor. She used to wish for moments like this, a childish belief in magic that gave her some hope of finding a partner. At the first star in the sky or the moment the clock hit "11:11," she would wish for someone to find her worthy of taking a chance on, someone who would want to get to know her and try to win her heart with their shy, awkward behavior. And she got Katie, the woman who forced her to give up everything she loved.

She had given up on wish-making, given up on the belief that she would have a future with another woman. Being single wasn't bad. Loneliness never accompanied it. She had family around her constantly to help her out and she would make new friends to replace the ones she lost.

Now that she stopped trying, another woman wanted a chance. Perhaps, Blake's attempts were a little misguided in the beginning. If she knew what Saylor liked, would she change? Or was her note and apology, the sudden change in demeanor, a lie?

Saylor didn't know what to think.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about it," Saylor answered.

"Yeah, sure. Maybe next time," Blake said. She looked at Davy, who appeared to be lost in thought. "Davy, want to come with me to get some lemonade?"

They needed to have a little talk about Saylor and the misinformation Davy was giving Blake. She left the not-so-secret admirer letter, bought the candy, would get her lunch the next day, would try to keep away from asking for sexual gratification. The candy didn't work, the note didn't seem to work. Would anything else Davy told her to try work?

Davy hummed an unintelligible response. Blake stared at him, waiting for him to respond properly. He needed to knock himself out of thought so they could talk about this. She wouldn't let the situation with Saylor distract her during the performance. That was unacceptable. Fans would tear Blake apart if she wasn't performing as they expected. Energetic, fun, not distracted, that's what they wanted.

Davy shook his head, clearing his mind. "I mean, lemonade sounds good." Smiling at Saylor, he said, "I'll be right back."

"Don't worry. I'll be fine while you get lemonade," Saylor said.

He wrapped an arm around Saylor's shoulders and squeezed her against his body in a tight one-arm hug. She smiled, not sure why he felt the need to give her a parting hug. The lemonade stand was a little farther down the hall. He wouldn't be gone long, wouldn't even be out of eyesight. But she enjoyed the small bit of contact. It helped ground her, remind her she was far away from Katie. Nerves still flitted through her veins and turned her stomach into a circus act, but they would settle with time. Everything settled with time.

He let her go and walked around the front table to Blake's side. Both smiled at her before walking away, Blake's an awkward upturn to one corner of her lips, Davy's small and reassuring. Saylor watched after them. What happened to Blake? Where was the cocky smile, the inappropriate comments at inappropriate times, the obvious resemblance to Katie? The chocolate bar apology had been the only thing to set her off. She would have warmed up to the slightly awkward Blake. So what happened?

Saylor shook her head and turned to the display. She wouldn't analyze Blake's sudden change. Not now. Later, when she was willing to analyze her own feelings, that was a good time.

Blake stopped at the lemonade stand, Davy in tow. She glanced at the merch table. Saylor didn't seem to be looking at them, didn't seem suspicious about Blake's forced trip the lemonade stand. Instead, she was arranging inflatable, beach-themed decorations on the display bored, their way of attracting casual buyers to the table. Satisfied, Blake looked turned her attention to the teenage worker behind the counter staring at her with wide eyes.

"You're Blake Andrews," the young girl stated.

Blake smiled, not the confident smile she was so used to displaying but the same bashful smile she used on Saylor. The action wasn't intentional, not completely. She was trying something new on Saylor: acting more like the not-so-cocky, too-awkward-for-words, high school Blake. She let those characteristics pepper her adjusted behaviors, the ones she had changed since high school. Just for Saylor. For it to transcend over into her meetings with fans, well, she wasn't sure whether that was okay or not.

By the look on the teenage girl's face, it wasn't a terrible thing.

"Yes, I am," Blake said, "Can I get one small lemonade, please," she paused, reading the girl's nametag, "Mary."

"Of course," the girl chirped, "It'll be a dollar fifty."

Blake pulled her wallet out of her pocket, flipped it open, slid out a five dollar bill, and handed the bill to the girl. The teenager mumbled a quiet "Out of five" to herself while pushing buttons on the cash register. The drawer popped open, and she quickly counted out the proper amount of change.

"Three fifty is your change." She counted the money out loud as she placed them into Blake's hand, "One, two, three. Twenty-five, fifty."

"Thanks."

Blake waited till the girl turned to the lemonade machine before dropping the returned change into the tip bowl and turning to Davy.

"She doesn't like caramel-filled chocolate," Blake said.

"I thought she did," Davy said.

"You're her brother, the alleged Saylor expert. How do you not know what your sister likes?"

He's the one who claimed to know more about Saylor than she did. Two of his starter pieces of advice failed. The note hardly made her more willing to talk and the chocolate wasn't even accepted. Apparently, he knew Saylor as well as Blake did.

"She liked caramel-filled chocolate four years ago," Davy defended.

"What happened four years ago that made her hate her favorite candy? Oh, wait, you probably don't know."

"I do know," Davy said quickly, "At least, I think I know. I just didn't realize so much had changed in four years."

Frustrated, Blake sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "I just want to sleep with her, Davy. You're making this difficult."

Saylor's company in her bunk for the night was all she wanted. She didn't think it was too much to ask for. Davy had been enlisted for that purpose. Now, she would have to get to know Saylor on a level that she hadn't attempted with a girl since high school, and Saylor wouldn't make it easy.

"Did you ever think that you want more and you just haven't realized it?" Davy challenged, "Why else would Saylor be stuck in your head?"

She stared at him, dumbfounded. She had no immediate answer to give, couldn't bring herself deny his accusation and claim she only wanted sex from his sister. Conflicting thoughts bombarded her mind. Did she want more than she realized?