Karyn flitted her way out the front door of her house, hair styled, makeup applied, outfit curated just-so, just at the same time as her alarm would normally have gone off. She'd woken up early, she'd spent a lot of time on her appearance, and she still got out the door early.
Meanwhile, a few miles away, Sarah McMillan was just turning off her alarm as she languidly eased her way out of bed. She looked in her closet mirror and saw the same redhead she'd seen a few hours earlier in the bathroom. She knew this was different, that she should look different. But somehow the sight of this new version of herself brough a slow smile to her face.
Sarah shimmied out of the green nightdress, musing to herself that she'd showered the morning before and didn't need another one so soon, then slipped on a pair of plain black leggings and crawled her way into a green jumper that she didn't remember owning.
It matched her nightdress in color, and exceeded it in comfort. Sarah brought a wrist up to her cheek and pressed her face into the sleeve. Soft. Familiar.
The honk of a car horn from outside brought her out of her reverie. Biff. He was going to bring her to school.
Sarah slipped on a pair of Converse sneakers and swung her bookbag over her shoulder. But she did so at her own pace. She wasn't going to make Biff wait too long, but she wasn't going to let him rush her, either. This was going to be a smooth morning.
"Hey, Babe," Biff greeted his girlfriend as she slid into the passenger seat.
"Do I look any different to you today?" Sarah closed the door behind her, but hesitated before fastening her seatbelt.
"No?" Biff couldn't tell whether or not this was a test. And he had no idea how to read the conflicted expression on Sarah's face.
"Hold me," she mewed as she leaned over the gearshift and let her comfortable red hair and her comfortable green sweater melt into Biff's shoulder and chest. She wasn't sad, she just suddenly felt the strong need to feel Biff's warmth.
The boy may not have known what was going on, but he knew that when your girlfriend asks you to hold her, you hold her. So his great quarterback arm curled over Sarah's back, and he held her. And they remained static, motionless save for the slow rising and falling of their chests as they breathed, for another ten minutes before Sarah turned her head upwards to say "Thank you. Let's get going."
