Archive of Our Own ^beta

Cheryl was no stranger to self-aggrandizement, but she really did have to commend herself for picking the perfect day to bring her girlfriend out on a date.

(And, no, just because she’d been referring to Toni as her girlfriend for a few months now didn’t mean it was any less astonishing).

The sunshine was of the softest oranges, beaming down on the secluded hills towards the outskirts of town. Grass blades rustled at her ankles where they dangled off the red gingham blanket she’d set out. Smooth tunes poured out of the speakers of her red convertible from a few yards away.

Her arm brushed Toni’s as she reached for a pinwheel sandwich tucked inside the picnic basket. Butterflies flittered in her stomach at even this accidental act of physical intimacy, probably because they were used to being so careful in public.

But also because Toni is… Toni.

“The food is wicked good,” Toni complimented easily, leaning back on the blanket before glancing at Cheryl. “And so is the company.”

Even if Cheryl still felt like melting every time her girlfriend so brazenly showered her in words of affection, she’d learned to keep her composure over the past few months.

“I strive for nothing but the best for you,” She tossed a few curls over her shoulders for dramatic effect, to which Toni chuckled.

“You’re a real knock-out, you know that?”

It was almost like Toni wanted her to be out of commission for the rest of the date. But, no: Cheryl was nothing if not a proper hostess.

Steeling her resolve, Cheryl trailed her fingers through Toni’s bangs before pulling her into a kiss.

The electric buzz that shot through her was exhilarating. It wasn’t just the kiss - it was the way Toni’s arms wrapped around her waist to pull her in closer, her sheer confidence and unwavering presence. It was the feeling of being wanted, and it was so palpable that Cheryl worried she would become addicted.

She pulled away, laying back down on the blanket to bask in the moment. Toni followed suit, propping herself up with one arm to face Cheryl.

“So, are you buttering me up for any particular reason or are you naturally sensational?”

“Well, besides you deserving nice things, Toni… I did have a favour to ask.”

Cheryl bit her matte red lips and started nervously thumbing in her skirt pocket.

“I was wondering if you could hold onto this for me… keep it safe?”

She pulled out a pristine envelope and passed it along to Toni, who inspected it from all angles.

“Is this for me?”

“N-no, it’s for… Aunt Carol.”

Toni paused in her investigation to meet Cheryl’s gaze. “It’s sweet that you wrote to her, I know she’ll appreciate it. But why do you need me to keep it safe?”

Averting her eyes, Cheryl absently tugged at the grass and let it blow away with the wind. “The Blossom Curse of endless scrutiny,” Cheryl laughed dryly, “I know my family will find out one way or another. It’s too much of a risk.”

“You really think they’d…?” Toni shook her head incredulously, “Cheryl, I’m so sorry.”

“I was going to keep it in my locker, but with the searches they’ve been doing… I thought that maybe you’d have somewhere better.” Cheryl could not yet meet her eyes but managed to hesitantly set a hand to overtop Toni’s own. “And even though I trust you, I was wondering if you would be willing to keep the letter between my aunt and I.”

She waited for Toni’s reply, stewing in tension. But her understanding response was enough to wash it all away.

“Of course, you should be allowed to have your privacy. I’ll keep it safe for you, I promise.”

The way Toni securely tucked it into her bag had Cheryl’s heart soaring all over again.

She lingered in her belongings, tilting her head.

“You know, there could be a way to get a message to your aunt. If… it were in code.”

“Oh?”

Toni grabbed her journal, flipping to her stomach and holding it out at an arm’s length. Her curiosity peaked, Cheryl shuffled in closer.

“There’s a poet named Sappho who lived over two thousand years ago. Some of her surviving work depicts the love between women. She uses a lot of floral imagery.”

She landed on the page she was scouring for. Cheryl’s eyes scanned hastily.

Many crowns of violets,

roses and crocuses

…together you set before more

and many scented wreaths

made from blossoms

around your soft throat…

“Flowers, and specifically, violets, have become a symbol - a way to signal to other women who like women without risking our safety.”

Cheryl leaned in until their shoulders bumped. “And if I send violets to my aunt, you think she’ll understand?”

“At the very least, she’ll know that you support her. If she’s an author then I think she’ll be keen on reading between the lines.”

Cheryl chuckled, her amusement turning to fondness as she looked away from the journal and into her girlfriend’s eyes.

“Thank you, Toni. You’re so knowledgeable about all of this - it means a lot that you would share it with me.”

It was impossible for Cheryl not to marvel at her incredible, compassionate, intelligent girlfriend. Even if it hadn’t been sunny outside, she was sure the warmth would have permeated her regardless just by Toni’s presence. Everything felt brighter when she was with her in a way that Cheryl had never known before they met.

Toni cracked a grin. “How about I share the rest of the poem with you?”

Nodding eagerly, her girlfriend tossed the book to the side and began reciting from memory, a playful glint in her eyes.

“…with pure, sweet oil, you anointed me… and on a soft, gentle bed, you quenched your desire…”

A gasp tumbled from Cheryl’s lips as Toni dragged her hand all the way down her side all the way to the curve of her hips.

“…no holy site… we left uncovered, no grove-”

The end of her sentence was muffled into their kiss. Toni pinned her down, Cheryl’s back pressing deeper into the blanket. Euphoria swept her senses as she furled her fingers into Toni’s hair.

As one could imagine, it was an incredibly fruitful afternoon.

After dropping Toni off at her grandmother’s house, Cheryl took the backroads to Thornhill Manor. The sky was darkening by the second but she needed time to calm her heart palpitations before risking an encounter with her vulture-like family.

She’d been through the song and dance of masking her emotions in the face of her perpetually suspicious parents before. Never, though, had she been forced to do it this often, or for such long periods of time. These feelings weren’t flashes in the pan - they went deeper.

Jittery flashes energized her to get up in the morning, to go to school, to work towards a future for herself instead of feeling like the unwilling bearer of a painful torch. Before, everything was so hazy and distant: now, Cheryl felt present.

How long had she been numb to these sensations? Why hadn’t they been there before? Was it Toni’s zeal for life rubbing off on her, was it a by-product of their relationship, was it her slowly becoming more comfortable in her skin after years of sealing herself away?

Cheryl didn’t have a definitive answer. Frankly, she didn’t want one. It was better to assume that whatever it was, it was finite and limited. It would let her focus on savouring it as long as it lasted instead of being in constant apprehension about when it would be over.

Sometimes, the only way to be in control is to stop digging before inevitably finding out there’s absolutely no control to be had.

Now that her so-called home loomed large in the distance, Cheryl didn’t have to try as hard to replace her happiness with unease. It was a roll of the dice whether anyone would even notice her slipping inside - Cheryl wished it was more like clockwork. That she could predict exactly when her father would admonish her for neglecting her responsibilities to the household or her mother finding any way she could to tear her down.

Instead, it felt like a constant gamble for her sanity. If nobody said anything, she wondered if she even had any right to get so worked up in the first place. She was overdramatic, and self-centred, and blew everything out of proportion. And if it did happen… they’d probably just tell her she was those things anyways.

That night, the dice landed on snake eyes.

“Julian could’ve needed the car. Why are you so careless?”

Penelope hissed, standing cross-armed in the foyer as though she’d been keeping guard.

Cheryl forced herself not to deflate. She played with the car keys in a subtle act of rebellion.

“I asked him if I could have it today and he said yes. Must you make a fuss out of everything I do?”

Penelope advanced. Cheryl felt dual instincts hit her: to run and to freeze. Neither seemed like the correct response, but in the time she spent arguing with herself about it Penelope continued her tirade.

“Where did you go?”

“I went out with my friends.”

She’d only been out with a singular person, and they were more than friends, but lying to her mother was the only recourse she had against whatever living hell she was capable of weaving. “Julian goes out with the basketball team all the time and I don’t see you in a tizzy about his social life.”

“Julian isn’t cause for concern. You are.”

The air thickened. Cheryl tried to fight the pangs of fear coursing through her by rolling her eyes and moving towards the staircase. Penelope followed her, setting her hand on the railing close enough to Cheryl’s that she could feel the cool metal of her mother’s ring scrape against her fingertip.

“Gallivanting around with some degenerate group has got to be the most pitiful I have ever seen you, Cheryl. Are you truly that desperate for attention?”

“They’re my friends.”

“Right. Friends.” A chilling laugh-like huff escaped Penelope, her eyes scrutinizing her daughter with such vigour that made the implications of her words all too clear. “We all know the truth: you’re going to associate with them, partake in whatever sick behaviours they have queued up until they’re sapped dry of energy to waste on you. You, Cheryl, are insatiable.”

Cheryl was afraid that if she moved, she’d crumble. She was locked into eye contact with a woman who will stop at nothing to crush her and can’t even summon the strength to defend herself.

“Sweet dreams,” Penelope’s voice oozed sarcastic sweetness. She flicked the bottom of Cheryl’s chin with her finger before flouncing away with perfect composure.

Cheryl faired much worse, rushing to her room while desperately trying to blink back unshed tears. She shut her door and furled herself into her sheets in a laughable attempt of comforting herself.

Her mother always knew what pressure points to hit. Cheryl knew this, so why did she let it make her so upset?

She tried to bring herself back to the hills with Toni. She tried to remember the soft grass, the gentle sunlight, her girlfriend’s tender touch. But the memories were tainted with the voices in her head telling her she was selfish, that her relationship with Toni was an opportunistic farce and that the only thing she was good for was leaving destruction in her wake.

The sun had set, and Cheryl was cold.

The frigidity subsisted through the weekend. Cheryl tightly coiled herself in her red wrap on her walk over to the flower shop, the kindly-looking woman behind the register paying her a nod as she began browsing.

Flowers were never Cheryl’s favourite - ironic considering her last name. Then again, she was never fond of that either. For multiple reasons.

When she was younger, she and Julian would run through the greenhouse on their estate, trampling any foliage unlucky enough to be growing in their path. There weren’t many flowers in there though - mostly roots and herbs. Either way, her parents weren’t impressed.

When she finally found the violets, though, they exceeded her expectations. She was picturing them as a softer shade of purple, but instead they were rich and deep in colour. Bold aesthetics were much more pleasing to the eye, in her humble opinion.

She left the store with a small potted plant, a guidebook on different flower species and a glass dip pen with dried petals decorating the inside. It was up to Cheryl to assemble these items into some sort of cohesive plan.

Dear Aunt Carol,

I require assistance with an assignment for the botany unit in my Biology class. Our teacher has instructed us to decipher how the language writers use to describe plants can affect their perception in the eyes of the public which may differ from their scientific classifications. I have marked the page I am to analyze and have enclosed samples of the specimen for your edification.

Any insight you could provide would be most informative.

Cordially,

Cheryl Blossom

Toni brushed her hand over the inside of the book cover where Cheryl inscribed the note.

“What do you think?” Cheryl meekly tucked some hair behind her ear.

“I think that you’re one hell of a problem-solver. It’s just… upsetting that you have to jump through all these hoops.”

Hating to see her girlfriend so downcast, Cheryl set an arm across her lap. “If it weren’t for you, I’d be shut out completely. Don’t think of it as an inconvenience - think of it as everything going according to your ingeniously concocted plan.”

Toni traced soothing lines along her arm. The sensation felt so simple yet so intense - Cheryl wondered if it was supposed to, if she should snap her hand back.

“I don’t know if you needed to buy a new pen to write a single note, but I admire your dedication to the theme.”

Cheryl bit her lip. “Actually, it’s for you.”

She took it upon herself to clip it to the collar of Toni’s shirt, lingering for longer than she perhaps should have. When she looked up, Toni was smiling.

“It’s breathtaking. Thank you, Cheryl.”

Here, in the privacy of a post-practice locker room, they were safe from prying eyes. Toni wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s shoulders and closed the gap to kiss her.

The magnetism was immediate. It was dizzying. Cheryl felt like she was losing herself to it.

Abruptly, she tore herself away.

Sensing her unease, Toni asked, “Something on your mind?”

“I-” Cheryl could feel her heart rate skyrocketing, and not in the way it usually did when she was alone with Toni. It felt suffocating.

“I’m still getting the hang of this all, Toni, and I was wondering - you’d let me know if it ever gets to be too much?”

A frown flickered across Toni’s lips. “What do you mean?”

“You know… This.”

Me.

She couldn’t live with herself if she ever hurt Toni with her over-eagerness. Toni deserved better than that.

“I’ve never felt that way about our relationship,” Toni reassured her, “but if I did I wouldn’t keep it from you. Same goes for you, yeah? You can always tell me if you want to slow down.”

But Cheryl didn’t want to slow down.

She wanted Toni to overwhelm her senses to the point of blocking everything else out. The shockwaves that zapped her when they were together, the cozy yet skittish feeling of being desired should permeate to her core. She wanted to fill the empty void to prove that it was possible, that she wasn’t some all-consuming monster who could never be sated.

Was she?

To her horror, a few tears slid down her cheek. She desperately tried swatting them away before Toni could notice, but it was too late.

“Hey. What’s the matter?”

Cheryl furiously shook her head, veering towards the wall to hide her abysmal state. “Ignore me. I cry too much.”

“There’s nothing wrong with crying, Cher.” Toni set a hand on Cheryl’s knee. The act detonated those visceral sparks that drew Cheryl in so close, but at this moment, made her want to bolt.

“I’m here for you. Alright?”

All Cheryl could bring herself to do was nod. A prolonged silence ensued, one where she couldn’t get her insides to stop twisting let alone figure out how to salvage the conversation.

“Tell you what,” Toni interjected, “How about we take a slow and leisurely walk over to the post office? You can choose the conversation topic, whether you’re up for something deep or you just want to discuss all the reasons that Featherhead deserves a knuckle sandwich.”

Say you want to be alone, her mind screamed.

Instead, Cheryl’s selfish whims took over.

“Are… you sure you aren’t busy?”

Toni skimmed a finger over the pages of the flower manual, smirking. “I’m an open book.”

The pun succeeded in bringing Cheryl out of the haze of her internal dialogue, giving a playful eyeroll.

After double-checking that the dried petals were tucked inside the violet page where Cheryl left them, they set the guidebook in a box. Under Toni’s gaze, Cheryl managed to tie a pretty bow in only five attempts instead of the twenty it would’ve taken her otherwise.

Package in hand, the pair left the school and began their trek to the post office.

“Tell me about your latest musings, oh scrivener extraordinaire.”

Cheryl already broke the meter as far as making this excursion entirely about herself: the least she could do was give Toni the floor to speak.

“I’ve been making steady progress on my piece about the integration of Riverdale High. I was bouncing ideas with Clay and we were trying to figure out a way to include more literary segments in the report. Static transcripts can come across as too formal - varying mediums would help punch it up, give it more impact. I’m hoping it’ll hit home that there’s more that needs to be done to address prejudice in school, even if the mainstream media is hell-bent on portraying the opposite.”

As Toni went on to describe her vision for the final product, Cheryl was struck by the vigour of her girlfriend. Not that it ever alluded her: Toni was going to change the world, it was inevitable. Even with the continued systemic racism that permeated not just the school but the town at large, Toni’s resolve never faltered.

Every ounce of her exuded strength.

A world with Toni was a world that challenged the rigid constraints and messed up norms that, before, Cheryl took as inescapable. It was a brighter world imbued with hope and change for the better.

“I can’t wait to read it, Toni.” Cheryl said sincerely. “You’re - it’s - brilliant.”

Toni chuckled. “Brilliant is kind of a preppy word, but I’ll take it as a compliment.”

The conversation drew to a close as they came upon the quaint Riverdale post office. The blue sun-faded shingles and the large oak sign swaying lightly in the wind should have made it inviting, but Cheryl still felt like strolling right on by as though they hadn’t come here for the express purpose of going inside.

She tried willing her arm to move towards the door handle, but it didn’t budge.

Recognition flashed in Toni’s eyes. “Nervous?”

Unconsciously, Cheryl clutched the parcel tighter against her torso. “Toni… what if she doesn’t want to hear from me? The last time we saw each other… I messed up, Toni. It was awful.”

“You mean when you were ten years old?”

Toni’s playful confusion only rattled Cheryl further. Sensing this, she tried a gentler approach.

“It’s been years, Cher. Whatever happened, she’s had a long time to process and separate herself from the situation. From the way you talk about her, it seems you two have a lot of happy memories together that outweigh a single slip-up.”

“I just feel like… I’m implicating her again. Dragging her back to the place that she wanted to get away from. Is that really fair to her?”

“You’re reaching out. She’s going to be so thrilled to know that she’s been on your mind and to hear from you. I know she is.”

Toni spoke with a certitude that confounded Cheryl to her core. She couldn’t wrap her head around how Toni knew this, why her aunt wouldn’t just be another name to add to the list of people Cheryl was leeching time and attention from.

More than anything, though, she wanted to believe her.

Maybe it was the pep-talk, or the patient expression on Toni’s gorgeous sunlit face, or the way she patted her arm as if to remind her that she wasn’t alone in this, or some combination of all three. But Cheryl did summon the strength to open the door and set the package on the attendant’s desk, strutting over with her signature confident flourish.

Heading back down the sidewalk, Toni spoke up again when all of the passer-bys were out of earshot.

“I’m proud of you.”

Cheryl had to claw for her own consciousness after the exhilarated rush those words gave her.

“If this letter makes Aunt Carol even a sliver as happy as you make me, then you have full permission to say ‘I told you so’ for the rest of eternity.”

Cheryl didn’t know how else to describe the bright smile and easy laughter that escaped her girlfriend other than it felt like summer.

“You should be careful giving me that kind of power. I can be relentless.”

Returning the smile, Cheryl simply responded: “I don’t mind.”

It was almost bewitching, the way Toni’s presence warded off the voices of doubt in Cheryl’s mind. Even when they resurfaced to remind her how selfish she was for never giving Toni any space to breathe, that she needed to get a handle on her desperation before she left lasting wounds, the words faded into silence whenever they would chat between classes or go out for cappuccinos at The Dark Room.

“Do you think we’re out of the woods with the package situation?” Toni asked on one such occasion, shuffling a touch closer on the sofa.

A fair assumption considering two weeks had passed since they sent it.

But…

“I don’t know,” Cheryl sighed. She gazed into her coffee as though it would answer all of her questions about whether her parents snooped through her mail to begin with, if she was being ridiculous for fixating on it as a possibility.

Cheryl, for one, was tired of never knowing anything. Her life was always in flux: she never knew if she could trust others or even herself. Her only constant was Toni, and she worried that she was dragging her into the unstable terrain.

“Maybe, after all of the good karma you’ve built up, the universe has finally decided to repay you?”

Cheryl fought the urge to laugh because she had no idea where this supposed good karma came from. But she knew Toni was only trying to be optimistic, so she gave a non-committal nod.

“You’ve been quieter lately,” Toni observed.

“Have I? I’ll have you know I yelled at my Vixens seventeen times in practice yesterday!”

“I buy that,” Toni grinned, which turned into a slanted smile. “But it isn’t what I meant.”

Cheryl shifted in her seat. Toni continued.

“I would never complain about how supportive you are of me, because trust me, it’s really sweet. But sometimes I feel like when the conversation turns to you, you draw back?”

“Maybe I like listening to your voice more than mine.”

“That’s bogus and we both know it.”

“Maybe… you’re right.”

“Maybe?”

“No…” Cheryl tried again, “No. Not maybe. You are right.”

Crumpling her long red skirt between her fingers, Cheryl tried to come up with a way to properly articulate herself.

“I think… I know, that I keep to myself sometimes because… spending time with you makes me so incredibly happy, Toni. But I can be volatile, and I just don’t want, I… I’m terrified of messing this up.”

Cheryl admonished herself for botching her explanation. What did she expect Toni to glean from that?

“This is new to the both of us, yeah? We’re going to make mistakes along the way. That’s one of the best parts, I think - working through the snags and learning more about each other.”

Only Toni could take all of the darkness consuming Cheryl and, in an instant, transform it into a bright light at the end of the tunnel.

“I never thought of it like that,” Cheryl admitted, trying to keep her throat from clouding up with emotion. She took another sip of her cappuccino before setting it down, Toni taking the chance to set a hand in Cheryl’s lap.

“I know that, in your life, road bumps haven’t all been made in the shade. More than anything, I want you to be able to express yourself without any apprehension even if it takes time.”

Even in the dim café lighting, Toni’s heartfelt eyes shone like diamonds. Cheryl felt the magnets pulling her closer in full force. This time, she didn’t fight it.

Clutching Toni’s collar, she pulled her into a deep kiss. Toni reciprocated the intensity, Cheryl getting notes of vanilla from her latte. Cheryl’s hands migrated to her girlfriend’s hair that she so loved to play with, down to her lower back where she pressed her fingertips on the exposed skin between her jacket and pencil skirt.

When they finally broke apart it didn’t feel like Cheryl was yanking herself from a pleasant dream. Instead, the revelation came that this was reality, that her emotions weren’t being sucked into some imaginary void.

“Wow,” Toni breathed.

Cheryl caught her breath as she took in the resonating thump of her heart, the gorgeous sight of her girlfriend’s slightly dishevelled hair, her features so soft yet stable that Cheryl never wanted to look away.

“I love you.”

With those three words, Cheryl felt set free of her mental binds. It was liberating to express herself how she truly wanted, to be so sure of herself and her emotions. To be able to tell Toni just how much she meant to her without the guilt threatening to strangle her.

Her brown eyes now glossy, Toni cupped Cheryl’s cheek. “I love you too, baby.”

Cheryl melted into her girlfriend’s side and rested her head on her waist. Curled into Toni’s embrace, Cheryl felt safe.

Loved.

It was real and tangible. Cheryl was capable of it, and not in the warped and messed-up way where she forced it out of everyone until they felt just as numb as she did. Instead, it made everything vivid and lively.

(Not unlike the petals of a violet.)

They enjoyed each other’s company as the afternoon turned into evening. When the Dark Room reached its closing time, they meandered through the parking lot to draw out the remaining minutes as long as possible.

“Tonight was something else,” Toni said breezily, gazing at Cheryl with a soft intensity that was as contradictory as it was electrifying. “How about we meet here tomorrow and I take you somewhere that gives your hillside picnic a run for its money?”

“I’d - I’d love that.” Brimming with giddiness, Cheryl couldn’t help but balance slightly on her heels.

“Cute,” Toni commented, making Cheryl’s cheeks and the tip of her nose grow rosy from more than the cool night air. Leaning in closer, Toni added: “It’s a date.”

Emboldened by the caffeine and the obscurity of the barely functioning street lights, they shared one last kiss. This one was the softness of dandelion fluff and the sweetness of strawberries. Their handhold lingered as they walked in opposite directions, their fingers finally slipping away when they got far enough.

“Drive safe,” Toni called after her.

“Says you!” Cheryl retorted, giving Toni’s motorcycle a skeptical glare.

Toni chuckled, strapping on her helmet and firing up her bike. She made a deliberate circle around the red convertible before heading down the street and out of view.

On her own drive home, Cheryl enjoyed the faint glow of the stars that were becoming brighter by the second. The breeze was exhilarating instead of chilling: she wondered if she was impervious to the cold. Even the shrubbery in front of Thornhill held an allure, the dewy leaves refracting the night sky.

Cheryl flounced up to her room, taking a second to collapse onto her bed in utter disbelief at the fact that this was her life. She pressed a pillow to her chest, her heartbeat reverberating into the fabric.

“Where the hell have you been?!”

Penelope’s voice was accompanied by the jolt of her door. The noise was distant, somehow: like it couldn’t reach her.

Barely angling her head from its position on the bed, Cheryl caught only her outline from behind the pillow.

“Hello, mother,” she said. It wasn’t a deliberate avoidance of a question, more of a subconscious acknowledgment that whatever answer she did end up giving would have no bearing on the conversation and she chose to respond with something pleasant instead.

Penelope balked. “You’ve lost your mind.”

Cheryl simply hummed, pushing herself up to go sit at her vanity. She unfurled the bow from her hair, fluffing it out.

“Are you even listening?!”

“Sorry, I was waiting for you to say something of substance.”

Not once has Cheryl felt this bulletproof in her entire life. It’s just as liberating as the rest of the night.

Her mother will not get the best of her, not today. Maybe not ever again.

“You have some nerve after what you’ve done, Cheryl Marjorie Blossom.”

Cheryl couldn’t help herself. She laughed.

“And what, pray tell, might that be? My grades are stellar, my many captainhoods and presidencies are maintained and the world is still spinning as far as I can tell.”

“Enough.”

Her mother caught her wrist, her spindly fingers tightly coiled in a death grip. Cheryl winced at the sharp talons digging into her skin.

“I don’t know what depraved force has overcome you, but it will not be tolerated. Do you think this is a joke? You’ve reached concerning levels of psychosis, Cheryl.”

Taking a calculated glance over Penelope, she did look like she was at the end of her rope. She retained her usual semblance of calm, but the tidal wave underneath it all was peeking through more than it usually did.

Even so, Cheryl was riding an endorphin high: one that gave her agency. She decided she was done gambling with the dice, that she’d find out once and for all if all the hesitation and paranoia was warranted.

“I wish I could say you were concerned for me instead of about me, but then again you’ve never cared about the former, have you?”

Penelope bared her teeth for a long, murderous, moment, her eyes scorched with rage. In an instant her hold on her daughter’s wrist moved up to her shoulders, nails continuing to dig as she forced Cheryl out of her seat.

The shock overwhelmed Cheryl as she was jostled down the stairs. While she was being dragged through the foyer, she snapped out of it.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, you tyrant.”

Though her mother’s hold was iron-clad, Cheryl’s River Vixen and dance training gave her the physical strength she needed to evade her grasp.

“Quit it with the backtalk, Cheryl. Or else.”

Scoffing, Cheryl strafed to the door, preparing to grab the handle.

And froze.

Where was she going to go? Steal the car and drive somewhere? This was not the first time that Cheryl thought about running away and escaping her family’s torment, nor was it the first time she understood that it was nothing more than a make-belive fantasy. All it would do was make it worse on her when they found her, or worse, when she was forced to come crawling back.

There was no discarding the Blossom blood through her veins, there was no outrunning her dynasty. They would find her - they would never relent - they would make her pay.

As much as she longed to leave this house and go back to Toni’s warm, protective embrace…

It was futile.

The afterglow finally dwindled. All this talk of pushing the limits, of going for broke, and Cheryl was too much of a coward to fully commit. She was too scared of finding out what fate was in store for her if she went all the way.

Chills pattered up her spine as her mother hauled her towards the chapel, their footsteps echoing harshly down the corridor the further in they got.

Penelope released her daughter with a shove. Cheryl managed to catch herself, tightening her jaw and refusing to cower.

“You sent a package to your aunt, you perverse wretch.”

Cheryl ground her teeth together in a desperate bid to keep her fear at bay.

Her mother couldn’t possibly know what the violets meant, could she? Was she only presuming Cheryl was guilty by association, for contacting her aunt at all?

“How dare you go through my personal correspondence!” Cheryl tried channelling her anger to pierce through her skyrocketing anxiety. It was all she had to draw upon as armour.

Penelope paused. The way she raked her gaze across Cheryl cut deeper lacerations than her fingernails.

“Is that what you think happened?” She stopped again to let out a mocking huff. Cheryl knew she was drawing the interaction out to let the apprehension fester and she hated that it was working.

“You’re completely delusional.”

Penelope advanced. Cheryl couldn’t help but take a step back, nearly bumping into the only lit candlestick casting a measly flicker of light across the space.

“I shouldn’t be surprised: you’re always out to pin the blame on others. It was your aunt who informed me of your homework scheme herself.”

Cheryl struggled to wrap her head around that revelation. She shook her head in a tiny, barely noticeable motion, questioning if her mother was telling the truth, questioning how much her mother knew, questioning why her aunt would throw her to the wolves.

“I… I don’t understand.” Cheryl whispered.

“Lord knows what ungodly whims have possessed you to contact that deviant, but with your recent behaviour I can’t say I’m shocked you’ve been trending in that direction.”

They’re dancing around it again. Maybe Penelope was trying to manipulate her into confessing herself.

“In any case, she’s given me explicit instructions that you are to leave her the hell alone.”

Cheryl’s head shakes became more frantic. “I… this doesn’t-”

None of this made any modicum of sense. Her Aunt Carol left to evade the homophobia her mother was spouting, so why work with her on this? Why tell her everything?

There were too many questions all piled up and Cheryl thought she might suffocate in them.

“Stupid girl. Are you that self-absorbed to think that everyone will fall into your lap even after the harm you caused?!”

Her mother’s raising volume stirred something inside Cheryl. She took another step away, her back hitting the wall.

“I… I never meant to-”

“I hope your maligning has made you feel better. Say what you want about me, but you, Cheryl! You are so deeply ensnared in your victim complex that you weaponize it. You enjoy every second of having people wrapped around your disgusting little finger. It’s deranged.”

In minutes, Penelope had taken every scrap of courage Cheryl managed to accrue and destroyed them. She would always be the same seven-year-old who was too big of a disappointment to be given a birthday, the same nine-year-old who listened to every solitary direction ordered by her family and still never measured up. She was small, and helpless, and weak, and so deep in her vat of manipulation that she even tricked herself into thinking that things could be different.

“You’ve made your bed, Cheryl. Now you’ll lie in it.”

Penelope snatched the candlestick from its place on the small wooden table, its tiny flame accentuating the rough jowls of her cheeks as she glowered. Cheryl braced herself against the wall, wishing she could fuse into it and disappear.

When her mother turned away, the sheer relief restored Cheryl’s ability to breathe. Then, the sounds of jangling chains snatched it away just as quickly.

She was being locked in.

What could she do? Plead with her mother? Beg? Humiliate herself, just to come to the inevitable conclusion that nothing she did ever mattered?

At least she’d be alone down here.

Cheryl waited until her mother’s footsteps faded out to slide against the tile wall down to the floor. Her knees dug into her chin.

Without the candle, there was no source of light - or heat for that matter. There was only the cold concrete floor, some assorted religious objects that Cheryl was certain she’d knock over, and time.

As the adrenaline of coming to blows with her mother dwindled, Cheryl tried to untangle her guttural reactions from her thoughts.

Penelope wasn’t a reliable narrator. Cheryl shouldn’t believe a word out of her mouth.

As time marched on, Cheryl intermittently reminded herself of this fact. She reminded herself that her aunt was unlikely to speak to her mother after all the vile things she said about her. That her mother would go to the ends of the earth to exert control.

As time crawled forward, doubt gnawed at Cheryl’s insides, chipping away at her resolve piece by piece. The more she forced herself to lie down and try to sleep, the more her mother’s words came to fill the vacant silence. She was thirsty and cold, and it was too dark, too dark-

Cheryl kicked at the gate trapping her inside. No matter how hard she tried, her blows were absorbed by the chains and didn’t budge.

She grappled around the dark room for a candelabra, not caring when she slammed her side into a wooden table or banged her hand against a statuette. Her fingers raked across the wicks, willing them to light, to vanquish the darkness, flicking them again, and again, and again, and again…

Nothing.

With a choked sob, Cheryl flung the object to the ground. Why in the world did she think that would work?

Her mother’s right. She’s crazy.

Memories of her day spent with Toni came back in flashes. They don’t provide comfort anymore: they’re tainted with the knowledge that Cheryl is deceiving Toni and has the audacity to call it love.

I love you too, baby.

It’s shrill.

I love you too, baby.

It’s ear-splitting.

I love you too, baby.

It breaks her.

And time inched ahead, one excruciatingly long second after another.

The sound of footsteps broke Cheryl out of her stasis. She knew they were her father’s: imposing and decisive.

What she didn’t know was whether they were real or if her mind was playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be for the first occasion since she was locked away. A few of the times she’d hallucinated Penelope’s stifling footsteps it reduced her to tears, fear turning to shame when she realized it was only her imagination.

She didn’t think she had the capacity to cry anymore. She sat in emptiness, wrestling with the reality that nobody was ever coming for her and she was going to rot.

Then, the gate burst open with a shock of force.

“Clean yourself up and join us for dinner.”

Clifford’s face was fully illuminated by an oil lamp he was holding, stoic and cold as it always was. Even so, Cheryl was drawn to the light like a moth and felt her body moving faster than her mind. Her numb legs failed to stabilize her and she fell forwards.

Mechanically, her father turned to walk down the hall without waiting. Cheryl was forced to drag her way to the gate to prop herself up and keep pace.

In the shower Cheryl animalistically guzzled down water, unable to stop herself. She wondered if she even had any dignity left.

The very last thing she wanted to do was have a family meal, but she was not in a state to be ignoring commands and so scraped whatever tatters of composure she had left. Not that there were any to scrape.

At dinner, Clifford was his detached patriarchal self, same as always, same as though Cheryl hadn’t spent nearly a day locked in the basement. Julian wouldn’t even glance in her direction - she didn’t have the emotional energy to figure out why, all she knew was that it made her feel subhuman.

And then there was her mother.

“Remove your elbows from table, Cheryl.”

Penelope’s sadistic enjoyment of the situation was lost on the girl, who pleaded with herself to stop making mistakes.

She tried to stop trembling. She tried to level her posture. She tried to do anything and everything to avoid the wrath of her mother, even if that wrath seemed invoked by Cheryl’s existence itself.

“Go to your room. I’m sick of looking at you.”

She did as she was told, turning on the lights and opening her curtains to soak in what little sun was left.

It wasn’t enough.

“Hey, Cheryl!”

Biting the inside of her cheek, Cheryl stopped in front of the steps of the school. She didn’t turn around.

“Missed you on Saturday, did something come up?”

“I was busy.”

Unfortunately, her standoffish demeanour was not enough to deter Toni from following her into the main hall.

“Do you want to reschedule, then? Maybe sometime this week?”

Cheryl stopped dead in her tracks and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Do me a favour, you greaser, and beat it before you keep me from attending to my duties to the morning announcements.”

She barreled towards the office before her voice could betray her by cracking or her eyes could betray her by getting misty.

Icing her out was for Toni’s own good - she refused to continue manipulating her.

Her plan succeeded in getting Toni to keep away for the remainder of the school day. After school… was a different story.

“What’s going on, Cheryl?”

She hated that after everything, her tone was soft as ever. The safety Cheryl longed for was right in front of her, but taking it meant continuing to shackle Toni to this farce of a relationship.

A part of her wondered if acting cold was the best approach, if confessing to Toni just how messed up she was would be better. But she just couldn’t help but be selfish, could she? If her options were to make Toni hate her or make Toni disgusted by her very existence, she would always choose the former even if she deserved the latter.

“I’m leaving after yet another successful Vixen practice. What else?”

She shut her locker, but Toni was standing between her and the door. She stiffened.

“Is this about what you said? Were we going too fast? You have to help me out here: I can’t read your mind.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re on about, Toni. Now get out of the way.”

Worry was so potent on Toni’s features that Cheryl had to swallow the lump gathering in her throat before it choked her. Toni did end up stepping to the side, Cheryl keeping an eye on the exit as though it would disappear.

“You don’t have to bottle things up. Remember what we talked about on Friday? We can work through it together. Talk to me, please.”

Cheryl looked right into Toni’s beady eyes and narrowed hers.

“I don’t have anything to say to the likes of you, you biker riffraff.”

Laughter erupted from Toni. Cheryl resented how bright it was, how it drew her in.

“If you’re trying to rile me up then you have got to come up with some better insults than that.”

Not once had Cheryl’s snipes bounced so easily off of her target. People were usually thrilled to get away from her when given the smallest excuse and it left her completely unprepared to deal with the situation.

She had to figure it out. She couldn’t stay in this conversation much longer - she was going to burst.

“Take the hint, you relentless pest! You’re not worth the effort and you never will be!”

Cheryl fled the locker room just as tears started running down her cheeks. The taste of blood filled her mouth, even if she realistically knew it was impossible.

She wasn’t sure she needed the reminder of how crazy she was. At least it put what she was doing into perspective: her instability, her baggage and her failure to cultivate a single successful relationship in her entire life made her holy unsuitable for Toni.

Toni, who deserved just as much love and dedication as she gave to the world.

For a few days, Toni kept her distance, leaving Cheryl to focus on her various extracurriculars in a bid to escape into something outside of herself. The streak ended during Thursday’s lunch period.

“We’re meeting in The Dark Room after your practice is done today,” Toni stated. “We need to talk.”

Cheryl didn’t object, giving a single nod. Satisfied with this, Toni left with just as much emotion as she displayed the rest of their interaction, which is to say, none.

It hurt to know that in a few hours, it would all be over. No matter how often Cheryl repeated to herself that it was selfish for it to hurt because it was for the best, her stomach was still a jumbled mess of knots pulled so tight that it made her physically ill.

The strange mixture of relief and desolation was debilitating. Cheryl longed to be numb again.

When she arrived at The Dark Room and immediately spotted Toni lingering at the bottom of the staircase, she rethought her perspective. Despite this meeting marking the final breath for their relationship, Cheryl’s heart fluttered with a fondness that froze her internal war in its place.

She didn’t regret her feelings for Toni. She wouldn’t trade these past months for anything, inconsiderate as it may be. She was only sorry that she could never provide the same refuge to Toni that she did her.

When Toni turned, though, something shifted.

She broke out into a full smile, a complete departure from her demeanour the rest of the week. She bridged the gap between them so quickly that Cheryl clutched her arms tighter around her torso.

“Hey! I’m so happy you’re here.”

Dread seeped into Cheryl’s bones like a corrosive poison. Something was seriously wrong, her dual instincts to get far away and freeze in place flaring up once again.

“You… are?”

“Of course,” Toni looked momentarily perplexed, but went right back to grinning.

“I ran into someone. I think you two have a lot of catching up to do.”

Toni nodded her head towards the drink counter, and that’s when Cheryl saw her.

Her blonde hair was shorter than it used to be, now stopping just short of her shoulders, the faintest of red tinges visible when the light hit it correctly. Her hands were clasped together, waiting patiently for her apparent introduction. Even with the additional creases around her brown eyes, her aunt looked exactly the same, and Cheryl felt like the same little girl who forced her out the door.

Frantically, she looked back to Toni to search for her intentions. Her smile was full, her eyes shimmery as ever.

She was enjoying this.

And why wouldn’t she? After being treated like dirt all week, of course she’d want to make Cheryl face the consequences of her actions. She was so far gone that she was still clinging to Toni as her life preserver.

More of her delusional thinking that she deserved a modicum of safety from the girl she was constantly putting at risk.

“Oh.” It slipped out, her voice finally betraying her by cracking.

The poison-dread inside Cheryl bubbled up, coating her insides in pain. She tried telling herself that she deserved whatever her aunt decided was a fitting punishment. That maybe, in some twisted way, Toni witnessing her get her just desserts was Cheryl finally providing her with the emotional catharsis that she could never give in their relationship.

“Cheryl, dear…”

The pet name seared into her. Reminded her that come hell and high water, she longed for comfort from the very people she destroyed.

Her aunt loomed forwards. Cheryl tried to choke down her fear but it wasn’t working this time, and every step closer added droplets to the bucket until it all flooded over.

“I’m sorry.”

Cheryl coiled herself tight, bracing herself for sharp nails and dark rooms. Terror pulverized her insides at the thought of going through it all again - she couldn’t. It would kill her.

So here she was, pleading, debasing herself. She managed to resist giving the satisfaction to her mother, but she couldn’t help but think Penelope would prefer this anyways. Her mocking huffs echoed in her mind, laughing at her for losing control.

“I k-know I was horrible and deserve this, but I can’t - I can’t…”

The sputters poured out before Cheryl could stop them. She shut her eyes like a kid who believed that the world would vanish if she couldn’t see it.

So it all came out in the end. Now, Toni knew how deranged she was. Cheryl should’ve known that it would end like this: she had none of Toni’s strength. She was weak, frail, and couldn’t even commit to the unselfish act of giving Toni closure.

Cheryl stood, tensed, in excruciating anticipation. The drawn-out torture was her neverending nightmare.

“What’s going on? Are you going to hurt her?!”

Toni’s words were disorienting - she couldn’t make sense of them with the context she had. Opening her eyes again, she was met by a protective arm slung to serve as a barrier between her and her aunt.

Toni’s protective arm.

As Cheryl’s mind spiraled, her body entered self-preservation mode and chose to lean into Toni’s back. Involuntarily, a whimper escaped.

She waited to be shaken off, trying to get her body to cooperate before that could happen, but it remained unconvinced that it was safe and so chose to hang onto Toni like a lifeline.

“I’m going to take you to the other room so we can sit down, alright?”

Despite the firmness of Cheryl’s grip, Toni’s movements weren’t forceful. They were delicate, even with Cheryl’s trembling figure clinging on for dear life. It was so drastically different from Penelope’s manhandling that her fight and flight responses simmered down.

When they got to the couch, Toni held her close just as she had the other night and thumbed at her shoulder to calm her down. Eventually, Cheryl broke out of the anxious spell her body was under. She shrunk back, emotionally exhausted.

“I don’t understand,” Cheryl furiously wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I thought you brought her here, to…”

The words died on her tongue. How overdramatic could she get? Why did she always have to swing wildly between being absolutely convinced of something and being so lost at sea?

“Can I?”

Toni slid her sleeve further down her hand, slowly raising it to Cheryl’s face giving her ample time to pull away. She didn’t, allowing Toni to gently dry her cheeks. Her patience was unfathomable to Cheryl, who couldn’t comprehend how endless it was.

“Your aunt and I chatted when I first got here,” Toni whispered softly, “I didn’t recognize her as a regular. I wasn’t intentionally plotting with her, and I would never do that to hurt you.”

Guilt panged Cheryl for doubting Toni’s sweet soul. There wasn’t a vindictive bone in her body. Although she suspected her mistrust stemmed not from Toni’s wonderful character and more from her own terrible one.

“Did something happen?”

Like always, Toni’s warmth broke through the ice walls Cheryl built around herself. Even if she never seemed able to find the right words, Toni made her comfortable enough to try.

“When I got home last night, my - mother, she… knew about the package. She said that Aunt Carol told her about it and never wanted to see me again after… what I did.”

“Do you think that’s true?”

The question came out more concerned than judgemental, even if Cheryl judged herself nonstop for buying into her mother’s repressive musings hook line and sinker.

“I don’t know, Toni. It feels like I don’t know anything anymore, except that I end up hurting everyone around me, including you, and I’m so, so sorry…”

“Hey. I know you weren’t being sincere this week, okay? The insults were actually sort of charming. The last one was… rough, but I knew it wasn’t genuine because of all the times you’ve told me a different story.”

But Cheryl shook her head. “Not just this week. Our entire relationship has been predicated on my selfish need for validation and I don’t want to put that on you, not when you give so much and all I do is take.”

Unexpectedly, Toni’s mouth gaped open. “Is that what you…? God, no, no Cher, you give so much to all that you do, you pour your entire heart into everything. How about that entire picnic you put together for me? How about how attentively you listen? You’re so caring, and loving, and I wish you could see yourself the way that I do.”

Her last few words came out choked up, Cheryl’s eyes welling up again at the sentiment. This batch felt like a release.

“Really?”

“Really. I promise.”

Toni entwined their hands together and traced soothing circles into her palm. Cheryl was once again reminded of her astonishing ability to inspire belief.

“I don’t want to be crazy,” Cheryl fleetingly choked out.

“You aren’t. Please don’t think that.”

“No - I - I’m constantly so disoriented, like I’m being pulled in a million directions. My perceptions are never true. I tried lighting a fire with my hands, Toni! That’s - that’s not normal!”

“You are not your thoughts, Cher. I’m sorry they’re so distressing for you, but you don’t have to punish yourself for having them when they’re out of your control. There are ways of working through them.”

Change was yet another thing Toni inspired. It opened up the possibility that Cheryl’s turbulent existence wasn’t set in stone, that she wasn’t doomed to be this way forever.

“Why do you think you tried starting a fire?”

Toni’s tender tone made confronting such a painful topic manageable.

“...It was so dark, and I guess I was desperate enough to try anything, even something I knew for sure wouldn’t work.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds perfectly logical to me.”

It meant the world to Cheryl to have someone disrupt all of the voices calling her erratic. After years of hearing it, it’d been solidified as fact.

But it didn’t have to be.

“It happened on Friday, or Saturday morning, I think,” Cheryl disclosed. She pushed back the nagging force telling her to keep it all inside, to stop pestering people with her problems, to not be such a burden.

“When I got home… mother locked me in the chapel.”

The sheer disbelief that radiated from Toni’s small headshake, her eyes becoming bloodshot yet still impossibly kind made Cheryl believe that somehow she might make it to the other side of this.

“I’m going to…” Toni balled her fists, but settled down just as quickly. “God, that’s so messed up. This shouldn’t of happened to you.”

“I was terrified of you thinking that- so, I had to convince myself of the fact that you did, that I… I deserved it, and you thought so too.”

It came out garbled, strained, teetering the edge of incomprehensible. It was the first time she let herself acknowledge the way her mind worked, and maybe she knew it subconsciously, but invoking it out loud allowed her to see in plainly.

Toni’s voice retained its firm conviction, yet was delicate enough to feel like feather whisps to Cheryl at her most vulnerable.

“You did not deserve that. And I’ll keep repeating that as many times as you need to hear it.”

The wounds that Toni was attempting to patch up span years - Cheryl thought it felt more like lifetimes, even. But, with Toni, it felt like maybe they wouldn’t be gaping forever.

They spent a while longer in a semi-embrace, each passing moment giving Cheryl the warmth and comfort she needed to process what had happened to her. There was still so much she didn’t understand: but it didn’t have to be that way.

“Maybe… I should try hearing my aunt out.” Cheryl carefully considered.

“I think that could be helpful in sorting through some of this. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Giving Cheryl’s hand one last squeeze, Toni promised to be back in a jiffy. Cheryl wedged herself closer to the sofa’s armrest, still quite overwhelmed but ready to gain a perspective not so heavily skewed by a single influence.

Ever considerate, ever thoughtful, ever extraordinary, Toni brought a glass of water for Cheryl and reclaimed the spot on the middle of the couch. Aunt Carol entered much more tentatively, her hunched posture and mascara splotches making her less threatening than she’d been before.

“Cheryl,” she said in a breathy stammer after taking the last available seat, “I’ve missed you, my darling girl. So much.”

Cheryl couldn’t stop the sharp inhale she took. What kept her grounded in this avalanche of emotion was Toni brushing their shoulders together.

Her aunt seemed genuine. Penelope could seem genuine too, if she really wanted, but that was a parlour trick she reserved for false displays of emotion whenever people prodded too closely into their personal life.

Cheryl willed her voice to come out as monotone as possible.

“Did you tell my mother?”

“About what?”

It was all scrunched eyebrows and stifling longing; much harder to liken that to Penelope. The vulnerability made Cheryl want to believe her, and yet the fact that she wanted to believe her made her not want to believe her.

Maybe someday she’d find the cyclical thought trap funny.

“About the package,” Cheryl squeaked, “and to never speak to you again.”

Aunt Carol’s headshake was immediate. “I would never betray your trust in that way, Cheryl: especially not after seeing the parcel’s contents.”

She knew better than anyone what kind of danger awaited Cheryl if Penelope had even the faintest of inklings about the symbolism. Now that she wasn't so tangled up in her own culpability, it was harder to believe her aunt would jeopardize her safety.

“I haven’t spoken a word to my sister since I left for Greenwich Village, only rectified today when I stopped by Thornhill with the hopes you would be home after school.”

The thought made Cheryl’s mouth go dry. She hastily grappled for a sip of her drink. “You did?”

Aunt Carol nodded, giving a watery laugh. It was devoid of humour but not of warmth. “I suppose with how things went down years ago I should’ve expected she’d threaten me with the police if I didn’t evacuate the town immediately.”

Her mother’s goal was always to keep them apart, and there was no line she wouldn’t cross to accomplish that. Including throwing her own sister in jail.

But there was still a facet of the situation that was bothering Cheryl.

“For your first birthday after you left, I tried sending you a card.” For it being so long ago, she remembered it clearly, her budding amateur artistic skills helped along by the craft glitter and fluorescent crepe paper she used to depict them spending the afternoon in their orchard. She even got Julian to sign it.

“Mother caught me when I was looking for your address… needless to say, everything went up in flames.”

It was the reason she’d been so skeptical of reaching out in the first place: the visceral memory of her mother holding the sides of her head, forcing her to watch the fire devour the work she’d put in for her aunt convinced her she would never be able to slip anything by her family.

“I guess I’m confused, why she would still let you receive the package at all if she knew about it.”

“Maybe she was trying to give herself plausible deniability,” Toni offered. “That way, if you two ever did happen to meet again, there’d be no way to prove she lied. To control your perception without putting herself in the crossfire.”

Penelope’s stranglehold over her life was clear to Cheryl, but the details were usually muddied along the way. She supposed she’d been conditioned to steer away from those avenues and focus on her own mistakes instead.

But the curtain was finally crashing down.

“I can unfortunately see that brand of manipulation at home in the rest of Penelope’s arsenal,” Aunt Carol’s posture dipped, letting a guilty silence fester even if Cheryl couldn’t quite place what she was guilty about.

“In any case, after being cast away from the property I found my way here, and I’m so glad I did. I’m terribly sorry for frightening you - it was the very last thing I ever wanted to accomplish.”

Her words were melodic like piano keys capable of inflicting the deepest of trances, and Cheryl wanted to succumb, wanted her aunt to kiss her on the top of her head like when she was a kid and make everything okay again.

The whirlpool of emotions was utterly terrifying, and she was scared of wading in too deep.

“And - and I’m just supposed to believe that?” Cheryl’s voice was cracking all over the place, but she kept getting louder anyways. “Aren’t you mad at me for what I did to you? Why would you ever want to see me again?!”

“Because you were only a child, and she was manipulating you.”

And with that, Cheryl’s self-blame was allowed to breathe for a moment. She was permitted to picture a world where she was not the only factor playing an active role, not unjustifiably victimizing herself for her own gain.

Gripping the edge of the sofa for stability, she listened intently as her aunt continued.

“We fought nearly every day the month she found out about my romantic preferences. And, in that time, she made it perfectly clear what she thought my influence was doing to you. Of course, I never bought her hateful rhetoric, but I did allow her to convince me that she might treat you better were I not in the picture. And that was a grave mistake: I should have never left so readily. I couldn’t be there for you when you needed me, and I’m never going to be able to get that time with you back.”

It was everything Cheryl’s ever wanted to hear; better than she could’ve pictured in her wildest dreams. Especially after years of convincing herself that the only viable outcome was the one in her worst nightmares.

Could she really trust this was real?

At a loss, Cheryl’s eyes darted between her aunt and Toni, the latter of which patted her knee encouragingly.

“I want to believe you,” Cheryl admitted slowly, “but it’s hard.”

Her aunt’s knowing nod still came as a shock, even after all this.

“I would never begrudge you for that. I would love any opportunity to be in your life again, in any capacity, but it should be your decision.”

It dawned on Cheryl in that moment that this was what true agency felt like. She could control how she reacted to her mother, or her own mindset, sometimes, when Penelope wasn’t feeding her a steady stream of nonsense to ruminate on, but she never had any power over the outcome.

Here, there were no external consequences or threats forcing her hand.

Maybe, this choice wasn’t even about Aunt Carol. It was between the version of her life constructed by her mother, where she played the part of a monster who selfishly cannibalised her relationships, and the one she hoped was true, where Cheryl was allowed to be happy - and was able to make other people happy, too.

“I… I want to try.”

Aunt Carol’s beam flashed brighter than a solar eclipse, and for once Cheryl let herself believe in the fuzzy feelings that came along with someone wanting to be in her life.

She pursed her lips, not because she was hesitating but because she felt shy at the sudden rush of affection.

“I miss you too.”

With a nod from Cheryl, Toni slid off of the sofa to give the two a moment. Aunt Carol set a hand right above her niece’s elbow and gave it a gentle squeeze. There was some restraint to the gesture, which Cheryl was thankful for.

Baby steps.

“Not to cut in,” Toni meandered back over to the sofa, her messenger bag between her hands, “But I do still have your, letter, Cher, if you want it now.”

“You mean - it’s here?”

Smirking, Toni opened her bag to reveal what at first glance looked like a simple pocket. Upon further inspection, the fabric was an off-shade and Cheryl realized that it wasn’t part of of the bag at all: Toni made it and attached it herself.

“You’re not the only one with some creative ingenuity up their sleeve.”

She ripped some of the seams off the top, pulling out a perfectly preserved envelope.

Cheryl couldn’t fathom that her girlfriend had found yet another way to leave her breathless. “You’re incredible.”

“My grandma helped,” she passed the letter off with an easy shrug, “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait, Toni.”

Locking her hand with her girlfriend’s before she could stride off into the other room, Cheryl said, “I’d like to read it to both of you, if that’s alright.”

Secrets were one of the only ways Cheryl could protect herself from her vicious family. It was easier to fall back on familiar habits than to trust that being open with Toni would have a happy ending: especially with the ‘leech’ narrative her mother so loved to push scaring her off from doing just that.

Now, Cheryl was ready; she knew that if anything went awry, Toni would be by her side to help pick up the pieces.

Touched, Toni nodded and scooched back onto the couch. Cheryl gauged her aunt’s reaction who looked on with fondness, snapping out if it a few moments later to nod as well.

Unfurling the autumn leave coloured stationary from its casing, she stole a quick glance at both women sitting beside her before focusing in on the cursive handwriting she’d inscribed all those weeks ago.

Dearest Aunt Carol,

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I hope the big city is treating you well, certainly better than this stifling town ever could.

Do you remember our long walks in the orchard where you’d tell me whimsical tales of fairies and witches? I’d always beg you to tell another, pester you endlessly until you relented. You spoiled me.

It hurt to have lost that. My best friend was ripped away: the only person who understood me and cared to spend time with me. I missed the pretty jewlery you’d let me play with sometimes after promising I’d be extra careful, the way you’d smile when I showed you some of my artwork even though I insisted I was still practicing.

I missed your hugs the most. I didn’t really get them after you were gone.

For a while, I was angry with you. I couldn’t understand why you’d leave me here all by myself. I think I was pushing a lot of the situation down - trying to bury the core of what made mother so enraged in the first place by failing to acknowledge it at all.

Now, I just want you to know how sorry I am.

Not once did I think you were a deviant, I’m upset that I agreed with mother without knowing the weight that word held. I didn’t want her to be mad at me - I wasn’t thinking about the consequences of my actions and I’m truly, deeply, sorry.

She started saying it a lot more after you left. That’s when I realized what a huge mistake I made.

I wish I could go back and do it again. Maybe I’d have the courage to stand up to her, to not constantly concern myself with seeking her validation. I don’t know if it would’ve changed the end result, but at least we wouldn’t have to had parted with me casting you away.

Somedays its hard to see myself as a person who affects the world. Instead, there’s this cold, empty apathy that surrounds me everywhere I go.

I’ve been having less days like that, though, ever since I met someone. A girl.

I didn’t realize how desensitized I was until we met. It was like leading my life caged behind a sheet of plastic I didn’t know was there, until she came and knocked it down. The narrow, bleak scope of my world has expanded beyond what I even thought was possible.

She makes the darkness go away.

I could probably make this all sound much prettier if I had your same poetic faculties - but to be honest I’m still trying to sort through these tangled swinging pendulums of emotions and I haven’t the slightest clue what’s happening but maybe, for once, I’m alright with that.

As much as I would adore your wonderful advice, it’s enough for me to picture you off in New York, living it large, away from people who’ve hurt you. I’m only sorry I also belong to that group.

Toni’s helping me understand that stewing in it isn’t going to fix anything, though, so perhaps this letter could serve as a meager olive branch?

It’s the least I can do.

Whatever your life has become these days, I know you’ve taken it by the reigns. You’ve always been a free-spirit like that: Toni too, a quality I deeply admire in both of you.

I don’t know if I’m quite there yet, but maybe I can learn.

Take care.

Yours truly,

Cheryl Blossom

She’d written the letter on one of her good days, where hope seemed attainable. It was nice to have a record of her headspace: it was sort of like a time capsule, in a sense. Proof that her emotions had a logical progression to them, even when they seemed to bounce around with no sense.

Sharing it aloud was… slightly more daunting, and not just because it meant telling Toni her somewhat embarrassing childhood anecdotes.

Agreeing with her mother that her aunt was a deviant was a moment that long haunted her. Maybe she was young, maybe she didn’t understand, but she’d still done it, and it was indicative of the destructive nature she never wanted Toni to face. But was keeping it under wraps even the best recourse, especially with Penelope poisoning the well of her self-perception?

Cheryl didn’t want to hide anymore - and with Toni, she didn’t need to. Whatever uncertainty was there was less like the jagged eggshells she had to walk on when trying to predict her family’s actions, and more like puzzle pieces that they could figure out how to put back together.

“Oh, Cheryl.”

Tears were streaming down her aunt’s face, this second pass actually washing most of the mascara residue away. Cheryl couldn’t judge on that front: her own makeup was probably running everywhere but for once this felt like a good cry, so she didn’t try and stop.

“Even if I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong, I forgive you. The sincerity of your words was never a question to me: you were only trying to placate your mother.”

Her mother treated her all the same in the end, but Cheryl was beginning to understand that it wasn’t her fault.

A liberating notion, indeed.

Toni must’ve understood the gravity of Cheryl’s relief because she looped her arm through her girlfriend’s, who leaned into the touch.

Whenever emotion was left hanging in the air like this, Cheryl was used to it thickening, forcing her to wade through the tense unease or cut through it with her own hostility. This time, though, the room settled into a levity, Toni jumping in to seal the deal.

“Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.” Toni playfully tapped a finger to the letter, “I might be a bit biased with how much praise you’ve heaped on me.”

“You make it too easy for me,” Cheryl countered. Without breaking their physical contact, she turned slightly towards her aunt.

“Although you two have already had the pleasure of getting acquainted, I’d like to formally introduce you to Antoinette Topaz - my girlfriend.”

“Lovely to meet you," Aunt Carol also gestured towards the paper, "I’ve heard so much about you.”

Bubbles of laughter burst whatever tears Cheryl had left to shed. “It’s most disagreeable that we’ve only discussed my writing when I’m sat next to the two best writers I know.”

Aunt Carol’s eyes lit up with interest. “You don’t say,” she angled her head towards Toni and smiled, “I’m jazzed to have a passion in common.”

Unable to stop herself from talking up her girlfriend (or teasing her), Cheryl added: “She’s brilliant.”

The feigned annoyance from Toni followed by the natural flow of their conversation to cozier topics was unfamiliar, but welcomly so. With her aunt, and especially with Toni, incertitude no longer felt like a curse Cheryl was afflicted with.

It felt like living.

And while the Blossom name was not easily renounced, and while she was certain life still had many a hindrance to hurl in her direction, it also had intimate picnics and coffee-buzz conversations and love.

She let herself soak it in.