Dear Ex-Girlfriend (Lesbian, Girlxg... - Chapter 36: Chapter 36

The red-orange leaves on the streets scattered when the motorcycle passed. At four-thirty in the morning, Bertha was enticing early risers with butter croissant, displayed neatly on her window rack. I rode on until the telltale signage of the junkshop loomed in the distance. The Harley slowed to a stop. With barely an expression on my face, I got off.
Immediately, as if they'd known what sound I'd be making, the garage door beside the junkshop pulled open. I didn't wonder much about it when the twins came out. Left Bear Creek on a motorcycle. Returned to Bear Creek with one too.
Ester's lips pursed while her arms folded across her chest. She looked more mature now, dark hair billowing down her waist, skin tanned like her brother's.
"You're early," she said.
The leather watch strapped on my wrist glinted as I checked the time. What do you know? I was early. Our call time was five, not that I missed that. It was exactly my intention to come at this time. We had so much to talk about.
Spencer dragged a hand through his hair, his breath fogging as he exhaled. Like his sister, the years spent apart had been kind to him. He looked great. His wavy hair had been trimmed shorter, his shoulders more muscular. And if he was tall when I'd left Bear Creek, he towered over us now. "Why don't we all come inside," he said, dark eyes focused on me.
"Thanks for the invite," I replied.
The familiar scent of old newspapers and musty metal contraptions were comforting when we got in. For a while, as Spencer worked on the door and Ester brought a candle in the middle of three chairs, I felt like myself again; a child, an innocent, a dreamer. The feeling vanished when the candle was opened and I caught a glimpse of myself on an old abandoned mirror. This was me now, not a child. And certainly not innocent.
"Take a seat," Ester said, as if I needed to be told. But I knew it was Spencer she was referring to because he had always been like that- needed to be told. The three of us took our respective places and focused on the candle. Or rather, the two of them focused on me.
"Des." Spencer said everything he'd been thinking of in a mere mention of my name.
I glanced at him, really glanced at him. "We've grown up," I said.
His frown never changed. "Yeah, we did. But. . ." He stared at me from head to foot; to my long hair first, then my blazer. The tight slacks after that, down to the heeled boots. It was considerably hard to drive a motorcycle with stilettos. That one had to go. "What happened to you?" he said.
I tilted my head and shrugged. "Life, Spence. Life happened to me."
"Liar!" Ester's nostrils flared. It was the kind of reaction I anticipated. Missed. She took the candle from the floor and held it between the three of us. "This is our candle," she hissed. "The candle!" Her angry face glowed from the light. "Now tell the truth. What happened to you?"
I waited for her to calm down and take a deep breath. Of course, the calming down would never happen soon, so I had to answer. "Did you miss me?"
"Destiny Jones!"
"Because I missed you." My tone didn't give me away. "But I had to leave. That's that."
Spencer touched Ester's arm and gently coaxed her to lower it. He'd prevented an outburst, but he himself still looked worried as he turned to me again. "We thought you were dead."
"I'm sorry." My gaze fell, then snapped back to him. Tears had pooled on his eyes, on both their eyes. But I remained unflinching. It had taken years for me to be this way. To be the cold, calculating, smooth-faced woman they could never really call their friend. But maybe someday. Not today. "I had ambitions," I said. "That's why I had to leave."
"So did we." Ester's hands shook as she wiped her eyes. I turned away so I wouldn't see the rest. "I'm not saying those dreams were put to a stop," she continued. "But you made it harder for us, Des. Have you even considered your father?"
Everyday. Every night. Every waking moment. But I wasn't going to tell her that.
"No," I lied. "I was selfish. I wanted to escape."
"From what?!" Spencer leaned forward. Hands clasped so tight it was white, it was all he could do not to cry like his sister. "What were you running from?!" he said. "We could have helped you! We can still help you!"
I almost snorted at that. Last thing I read on the papers, he was doing a good job of making a name for himself, the blossoming football star that he was. And Ester? My dearest, most intelligent friend, was slowly being accepted to the scientific scene. They were great. They worked hard for it. But they couldn't help me, not in a million years.
We were talking about Lyndon Morgan here; the tycoon, the bear, the rich bastard who ruined my life. Did my friends think I left them for nothing? I was protecting them so they could be a football star, a scientist, whatever they wanted without going to jail. Superheroes didn't always wear capes. Sometimes they were nerdy girls who had to grow up, so people she loved could live their lives.
"I don't need your help." My lie was so smooth, I almost believed it. "I can take care of myself. How do you think I've made it this far?"
"By far, you mean become the lead representative for Mr. Danes?"
Ester crossed her arms again when I shrugged at her. "Mr. Danes is a good man, a decent man," I said. "I'm proud to lead his banner for the upcoming election."
"You've hit your head, Des. I know you did," Spencer said. "Do you realize who Mr. Danes will be up against as Governor? Mr. Morgan is running for his second term in office. He will crush you."
Not if I could help it.
I bent over to the candle and looked at my two best friends. Despite what they thought of me, I would always think of them as that. Now they needed to trust me.
The room was blanketed in semi-darkness when the candle's flame was blown away. "I know who I'm up against." My voice was loud and clear. "And frankly, I don't care."
The twins shared the same troubled expressions when the three of us stood from the chairs. Ester, especially, had pursed her mouth too many times than I've ever seen her do before. But it was Spencer who'd given me a bear hug the moment his sister turned her back to us. He wasn't thinking. He just pounced.
"Desti— Woah!"
Spencer remained on the floor while I straightened. From the slightly opened garage door, Ester swiveled around and was shocked to see that her brother was now sprawled on the ground, hands over his head. "What in the world?!"
I ignored her outburst and stepped on Spencer's chest. He groaned and stared at me like I was insane. "Where'd you learn how to do that, Des?!"
"Throw you from me?" I released the pressure over him and stepped away. Without telling him anything, he'd know not to touch me again. "I've been in some pretty rough neighborhoods," I said. "Had to learn how to defend myself."
"I bet." He gave me a wary look after he'd gotten to his feet. Ester, meanwhile, clamped her mouth shut and went on to raising the garage door.
It was when I was heading out that she pulled me aside. "I don't like this," she whispered, eyes skimming mine. Her fingers tightened on my arm. "First you disappear, now you resurface looking and acting different." She shook her head. "I know what this is about. This is a call for help."
A surge of annoyance flitted in me as I pried her hand away. She knew nothing. Could do nothing. She wasn't even there when I was locked up in a tank and—
I composed myself and sighed. Ester's eyes flashed when I patted her shoulder. "That's the problem with you, Es. You think too much."
"Since when is that a negative?"
Since you're butting in my business.
I shrugged. "Let it be this time, huh? Like we've discussed, we all have ambitions we'd love to pursue. Sometimes we have to change in order to get that."
"And Genesis?" The name made me freeze. Beside me, it was Ester's turn to retain a poker face. To act like it wasn't her move to back me in a corner and see how I'd respond.
"What about her?" I said.
"What happened to you two?"
I remained impassive as I ducked out of the door, into the sunlight. Morning had come. It was time for a change. "Nothing," I said. "We're strangers with a past. That's all there is to it."
The name kept repeating in my head even after I've left the twin's garage and headed to the meeting point. Genesis. Genesis Morgan. I hadn't thought of her name, much less imagined how she'd grown over the years. That was the lie I told myself.
"Why the sour face, big shot?" I looked up to see Linda, Mr. Danes' twenty-something assistant, holding a coffee cup and staring at me. Behind her were five RV's parked across the street. One of them would be mine.
"Nothing. Where's Mr. Danes?" I asked.
"He'll arrive after an hour. Told me to scout the place beforehand." She took a sip of her coffee before addressing me again. "You alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I straightened my back and nodded. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe after you've gotten back home, you're suddenly having second thoughts." Her head tilted to the side. "Everyone is well-aware by now that you were best friends with Genesis' Morgan. You could have told us sooner too. The news crew in the next street is hungry for some drama, you know?"
"Are they?" Linda's bright red lips parted when I headed to her. But I didn't stop. Not until our faces were inches apart. "Tell me, Linda. Why am I Mr. Danes' most favorite apprentice again?"
Her eyes darted to the side. "He said he liked your attitude," she mumbled.
"And what attitude is that?"
"That you. . ." Her gaze flickered back to me. "You didn't care who you're up against. As long as they're in your way, you destroy them."
"Precisely."
I sneered when Linda stepped backward and splashed coffee all over herself. "Damn it!" She glowered at her stained skirt, then fished out a key from her blazer and handed it to me. "Last RV is yours. Go and stop creeping me out, Jones."
My mood was remarkably better when I climbed the RV. Everyone knew I came from Bear Creek, Mr. Danes especially. But he was still kind enough to provide me accommodations.
Mr. Danes was that type of man; strict but principled, came from a modest background and worked his way up, and what I liked most was his willingness to put me under his wing after I'd showed him how ready I was to be trained. He was the kind of man that should be Governor, not Lyndon Morgan.
A breakfast, a quick shower, and a change of clothes later, I was making my way down from the RV, a tingly feeling on the tips of my fingers. It was remarkable what a few hours could do. Already, more than fifty supporters and staff were camped outside, having conversation. I spotted Mr. Danes among the throng and wore my sunglasses before going to them.
The 6'2" man noticed me approaching and raised his hand. It was not the intimidation factor that made his companions stop. At 45 years old, well-built, a pleasant smile on his clean-shaven face, Mr. Danes commanded not fear but respect.
"Destiny, we were just talking about you." He let me shake the hands of the people I'd never seen in my life. But then that was how it was when you're doing something remarkable. People you didn't know would be coming at you from all angles, whether out of love or hate.
"I'm sorry if Mr. Danes is boring you of stories about me." I gave everyone apologetic smiles. "He doesn't have a child, so he likes to bully younger subordinates."
Mr. Danes grinned. "On the contrary, Destiny, I was telling them how you bullied me." His laugh was deep and genuine. "Four years ago, this woman went to my firm without any resume, looked me in the eye, and said, give me a job, Mr. Danes. I'll scrub your toilet if I have to." He shook his head fondly. "Four years later and she finally convinced me to run for Governor. Now tell me. Who bullied who?"
The conversation was long over by the time lunch was served. And by afternoon, everyone was getting edgy. It was not a coincidence that brought me back here at this time of the year, on this particular day. A debate between candidates was scheduled weeks before. The venue? Bear Creek town hall.
Mr. Danes' was gracious enough to say yes to the challenge even when it was the hometown of his competition. Call it naïve. I called it strategy.
"You haven't been home in how long again?" Mr. Danes glanced at me. Another one of his gracious gifts was allowing me to ride with him in the Mercedes-Benz, while Linda, his assistant, was beside the driver listening to us.
"More than six years," I answered, eyes kept firmly inside the car. We've just passed the street going to my house. Somewhere in there, working on his wood, was dad. I forced myself to look at Mr. Danes. "It doesn't really matter. Nothing has changed."
He nodded and took a sip from his water bottle. No whiskey for him today. He knew what the stakes were. "I trust your decisions, Destiny. Don't screw this up for a change of heart."
"Trust me, sir. I won't."
Reporters, onlookers, and supporters from the opposition, were standing on the driveway of the townhall. Security team had been posted beforehand, but our car was still mobbed when we arrived.
We were ready for this. Linda and I got out first, covered Mr. Danes, and allowed the security to guide us inside the hall. Every now and then, our candidate would stop and shake someone's hand, so by the time we got in, I was soaked with sweat.
"Whew!" Linda fanned herself. The woman didn't look as foxy as she wanted now. Her lustrous curls were all over her face. "Have you ever thought about that when you run someday, Destiny?"
"What do you mean?"
She gave me a look. "We both know what career path you're heading for, sugar. Someday, it might be Lyndon's daughter against you." I scowled at her. "Hey, don't look at me like that," she said. "Just saying."
Mr. Danes was still busy talking to the head of security, so I mumbled an excuse to go the restroom to compose myself. Damn Linda and her assumptions. The woman wouldn't give me a break.
I continued down the corridor. And only then did it strike me that I've never been inside, even after all those years that I've lived in Bear Creek.
I turned around the corner, glanced at a slightly opened door to my right, and narrowed my eyes as I stopped. It felt like someone had whispered my name though I hadn't heard anyone.
"Hello?"
The door swung open. And to my complete surprise, someone grasped my hand and pulled me in.