In search of sparks.

Andrea always knew that she liked girls. However, growing up in her expensive and disgustingly prepy Catholic high school, the association was the highest form of social suicide, and not because no one was gay. Half the girls were all over each other: bullying one another to distract everyone from the fact that secretly they were making out behind the shed, tenderly kissing away the insults. This was until one couple was found out by the school warden, and an assembly was held: "Don't be Gay-- Jesus doesn't like it." Because f**k lesbianisn, everyone knew it was common sence to have hetrosexual s*x for God's approval (presservation if life), but only when your old enough with with a stable income, inexperienced and bored (ordered society). Andrea still remmebered how she bit her nails the entire assembly, shrugging of her pounding heart and forcing a mocking laugh when the couple was announced publicly, forced to admit their sins cheeks flushed flushed in embarrassment. The shed was abandonment and later demolished, the caretaking team said ut was Because the rood was rotting, but Andrea at the time believed wholly that it was supernatural homiohobia and stared so hard at the floor in the pe changing rooms, pushing her feelings deeper and deeper down. Because Andrea was ones of the those girls, except she didn't have a secret lover who she'd pull closer in empty hallways when no one was watching, gliding her hands over the smooth surface of her neatly pressed ironed school uniform and taking in the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo. She had a boyfriend. An obnoxiously loud averagely hot leader of the football team. Dan Mortimer. All he ever wanted to do was drag her out of class and shove his tongue down her throught, in the early days it was what she would call a unique experience, to every other desperate teenage girl he was a must have: Girls would stare with envy at them as they walk down the hallway, twirling their hair and showing off as much skin as they could with the heavily strict, heavily monitored uniform regulations. If only they knew that she'd was in deep trouble for missing half her classes, and that she'd rather kiss their mouths instead. They never did know. And Andrea continued to bat her eyes at him, kissing him after school and always leaving room for jesus. Perhaps they would've been the perfect couple if she had been a chee rleader but alas, Andrea was hopelessly obsessed with science-- she had loved it and he had bullied her for it. Bisexual. She'd tried to ignore it for the longest amount of the time, kept it tightly tucked away in her folder of things not the mention: If she liked girls who was she supposed to gossip about with her friends? If she liked girls they would all be gossiping about her. Andrea and Dan had stayed together ofcourse, their dream glowing older as they did, and one day nine years later Andrea woke to realise her dream had grown up ugly, hair thinning with its teeth falling out; their relationship pritsticked together singlehandedly by the framed photo of them at senior prom on their living room table. They had a flat together, she worked a small office job, and Dan had started to put his foot on the ladder and job at a sales firm that he wouldn't shut up about. Dermatoligy had called her name relentlessly, but Dan was so adamant that she go into something "better suited for her" and to leave science "to the real men" he had explained it all horribly while laughing into his beer like it was a casual conversation and not her while furture. She wanted to slap him. She didn't. As if men knew anything about skin care anyway. For a while she wanted to leave, she had gained the thought in the local corner shop buying a bottle of sparkling water and two microwave meals, the cashier at the corner shop had smiled at her in such a soft way that something building up inside her for what seemed like an eternity split open from her as she started past her long crimson hair at her welcoming brown eyes and swalled so, so painfully when she declined giving up her number. The feeling died later that day when they were eating infromt of the TV, the corner of her prom photo glistened in her preferal vision and Dan had put his arm roughly around her and suddenly the memories of they waltzing down the halls of their high-school flooded back to her and the joyful scenes on the TV offered some distraction from the fact that somewhere inside her resentment churned on her stomach. Turns out Dan had seen a work offer at the office next to him, and drilled her over applying over dinner for a solid two hours until she has lost her appetite. At first, she had thought it was a dumb idea but when he got back from his work trip in London there was a shift in him-- he was colder and told her he loved her in the most unmoving way that if Andrea had misheard him she might have thought he was telling her what he had had for lunch yesterday, but it was the brutal feeling of being unlovable that sang annoying in her ears when he was near that was the most crushing. The more he ignored her the more the thought of the application played in her mind, to have him look at her again, his dashing Prince charming smile dazzling like a ray of sunshine, two months before he ended it she had the job applicatiom emails written up professionally in her drafts, and the thought of them took up space heavily in her mind like a boulder, even up until the bitter end. "I want to see some one else" he had said over breakfast one morning and she nodded solemly into her cerial I'm response, expecting it. Two days later she went back to the corner shop I hope of finding the cashier still there, in her mind she was waiting behind the till boque of flowers in hand her red and grey uniform switched to something you would perhaps where on a date. This was not the case. Shoulders heaving with the weight of her loneliness Andrea found that the sparkling love of her life had evaporated from the staff list pinned on the cork board above the dimly lit counter. she had made it out barely, escaping to her car shaking, her life: her perfect dream fell from her eyes in gushes and slipped away from her. No more high-school sweet heart. No more fantasy girl. It was two months later when she had decided to download the dating app, she had moved out to a smaller house which she had decorated cleanly, with candles, floral bedsheets and no pictures. (Dan wouldn't hated it. Dan wasn't here.) The part of her that harboured her forced heterosexuality screemed as she downloaded one centered around women but she thought it back. She altered her name though: Andy. As if people wouldn't be able to recognise her from her photos, her heart rattled Un her chest like it was being tossed about it a tumble dryer: It's not like her friends would be on there? Would they? She considered it for a second before uploading her profile. The first girl that caught her attention had long dark hair in bouncy curls and despite her tattoos and dark precise make up their was a certain energy conveyed through the photos of her playing with her cat and wearing long flouncey skirts that gave it away that secretly she was a candied sweetheart. "Maria" her profile read: 24 years old, lives in the area. "I think I might actually steal your cat." She typed, deep breath, and sent. Wait was that aggressive?? (What are you doing? You sound like your on the verge of breaking and entering!) "I just like cats and yours is cute!" She thumbled quickly with the keypad trying to save herself. A moment passed. "Thank you, he likes you too and he also think your a cutie ;)" Andrea stared at the message startled like a deer in headlights, a surge of warmth she hadn't felt in years started speading through her like she had been struck by a glorious bolt of lightning. It was the begining of something. They were texting non stop, Andrea found herself glued to her phones eyes always wavering, waiting for her notification, it was 3 days later on Andrea's lunch break in her dingy office job when the two of them had decided to meet. Bored of watching her noodles rotate on the microwave, Andrea pulled out her phones looking quickly at her screen and sure enough the app flashed to notify her of a new message. "Hey," it read "thinking about you, what r u up to?' Andrea suddenly wished she was doing something more interesting "On my lunch break, long morning. Waiting for my noodles to heat up I think I could actually die starving." The little bubbles popped up on the corner of the screen. The mysterious girl she so desperately wanted to make her lover started typing. "I love noodles." "Agreed. They're so good" "There's a place in town that's just opened" Andrea's heart lurched suddenly, "...would you like to go sometime..." More typing "...with me?" Andrea smiled instantly, the overwhelming feeling was so dizzying that she for a second she was not longer in the in the community kitchen but somewhere among flowers and gaudy f*****g rainbows. The ping of a text notification brought her suddenly back to reality. "If you want to ofcourse, no pressure." It suddenly dawned on her that she had forgotten to reply. '"Of course!" She texted back sharply, heartbeat in her mouth "I'd love to" "Soo who's got you smiling like that." Andrea looked up from her phone and felt her cheeks fill with blood as if she had been caught commiting arson. It was her coworker, Audrey who was stirring her coffee and looking at her expectantly, a sixkening spark in her eyes. Andrea couldnt recall when she had entered the room. "Is it Dan has he done something romantic again?" Oh f**k. She had forgotten to publicly announce her break up to the staff room. She had remembered how she had told Andrea about how Dan had taken her on a cruise for her 21st at a work dinner, the memory, 5 years old now, of her and her tragic ex boyfriend stood together looking out of the ocean left her flooded with disappointed emotion. "Yeah" she said with out thinking "he taking me out to this new place in town." The microwave started blurring profoundly. Andrea scooped up her noodles quickly, escaping apologetically away from her colleague who's whos voice chased after her as she attacked her for details. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. It okay, she told herself, this isn't Catholic school anymore, people can know that you like girls. Because she did, Andrea really f*****g liked girls. One girl in particular. Maria: 24, who lives in the area.