Chapter Text
The sun streamed through the gym’s skylight, making the turquoise water of the pool glisten. Around it, the members of the swim team were warming up before practice.
Meanwhile, in the locker room, Love was finishing getting ready after arriving a bit late, though not as late as her friend, who still hadn’t shown up.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed from the hallway; the door swung open, and seconds later, Milk rushed in, her backpack half-unzipped and a couple of books in her hands.
—Finally you’re here —said Love, adjusting her uniform.
—That damn calculus class. As if it’s ever going to be useful.
—If you don’t study, it’s never going to get easier, don’t you think?
—I don’t need to study, I’ve got everything right here —Milk shot back, tapping her head.
Love let out a mocking laugh.
—Of course! That’s why your grades are so excellent —she replied sarcastically.
Milk squinted at her as she started to undress.
—Hurry up —said Love, stepping out of the locker room toward the pool— Don’t think that just because you’ve got the best record we should all wait around for you.
Warm-ups were wrapping up when Milk finally reached the pool in her tight one-piece swimsuit.
—Milk, I want you ready in five minutes, not a second more —said the coach, while she started stretching quickly at the poolside.
Love, already in the water, swam past her practicing freestyle.
—Too slow, Patt —teased Milk, stretching out her leg.
Love stopped abruptly and swam toward the edge. With a small push she tried to grab Milk’s leg, but failed: Milk pulled back just in time.
—You should work on that agility too —added Milk smugly.
Love stared back at her, defiant.
—We’ll see how cocky you are once I break your record.
Milk stifled a laugh, openly mocking her friend, and kept stretching.
Love went back to practice when suddenly she let out a cry of pain.
—Ow! A cramp!
Without thinking, Milk ran to her and crouched down to hold her, but as soon as she grabbed her arm, Love pulled her in and easily dragged her underwater. Milk couldn’t resist and fell straight into the pool.
—You’re way too easy to trick —said Love, swimming off to continue practice.
Milk stayed floating, laughing at herself for falling for it again. Love was an expert at baiting her, and though she’d never admit it, Milk enjoyed the game.
Soon after, she rejoined the practice, standing out with every stroke. She held the university record for the 100-meter freestyle, and for good reason: her speed was unmatched.
—Alright, pair up, we’re starting with the 100 meters —announced the coach.
Love was about to team up with another teammate when the coach’s voice stopped her.
—Love, you’re racing Milk. Get to the blocks and get ready.
The coach pulled out the stopwatch and stepped closer to the edge.
—I want your best performance. It’s time to get serious about nationals. Did you hear me?
—Yes, coach! —they all answered at once.
They climbed onto the starting blocks.
—What do you say we make a bet? —suggested Milk with a tempting tone.
—What do you have in mind? —asked Love, curious.
—If I win, you’re coming with me to the party tonight. No complaining.
Love rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.
—And if I win?
—Mmm… let me think…
—If I win, you’ll do whatever I say, whenever I say it. A sort of wish.
—That’s way too vague, it could be anything.
—Not so sure you’ll win, huh?
Milk stared her down and nodded.
—Alright, deal.
Both took their positions, focused on the duel and with the extra weight of the bet. Beating Milk was no easy task: she was the best on the team. But something about the confidence with which Love stepped onto the block made it seem like this time there might be a chance.
They inhaled deeply, let the air out, and crouched down, on their marks, eyes fixed on the long pool ahead, fully concentrated.
The whistle blew and they dove into the water at the same time. They launched powerfully off the block, swimming almost neck and neck, though Milk had a slight lead.
Around them, everyone watched expectantly, placing their own bets on who would win. To no one’s surprise, most trusted Milk.
She dominated the race in the first 50 meters. They touched the wall almost together, flipped, and pushed off to return. In the last 50, Love increased her pace and caught up in the final stretch.
The entire team held their breath as both touched the wall at the same time.
Milk quickly pulled off her goggles and looked at the coach.
—Who won? —she asked anxiously.
The coach studied the stopwatch in silence.
—Coach, who won?! —insisted Love, breathless, climbing out of the pool.
—I don’t know who won —she finally said, voice steady— but what I do know is that you just broke the university record by two seconds.
Love and Milk stared at each other, wide-eyed.
—I can’t believe it! —shouted Milk, jumping on Love as soon as she got out of the water. They hugged in shock while the whole team rushed over, cheering and congratulating them.
—Alright, girls, calm down —the coach cut in, raising her voice— A university record means nothing if you don’t repeat it at nationals. I want absolute focus and no distractions. Do I make myself clear?
—Yes, coach! —they all responded in unison.
—Good, let’s continue practice. Next pair.
The team went back to training while Love and Milk were still catching their breath, laughing after the race. That was when a voice interrupted the moment.
—Hi, baby.
Namtan, a tall girl with feline eyes, seductive yet tired, greeted Love with a smile. She carried a bag over one shoulder and a pair of boxing gloves tied to the other.
—Oh, hey, Namnam. I thought I wouldn’t see you today.
—I just came to say hi. Am I not allowed to drop by?
—Nooo, don’t be silly —said Love, getting up to hug her.
—No, bb, you’re all wet and I don’t want to ruin my clothes with chlorine —Namtan replied, gently pushing her away.
—Ah, alright… sorry.
Namtan grabbed a towel, wrapped Love in it, and gave her a short kiss, almost possessive.
—Did you come see me because you missed me? —asked Love, trying to sound lighthearted.
—Yes… and I also wanted to see with my own eyes that you’re not hiding anything from me.
—Oh, Namnam, always the same… —said Love, smiling awkwardly.
—It’s just that people say things… and besides, you’ve got bad company —she added, lowering her voice at the last part.
—Believe me, not them —Love replied, giving her another kiss to end the subject.
—So, we’ll see each other tomorrow? —asked Love, trying to change the topic.
—Yeah… I don’t know, I’ll let you know. I’ve got important things to do.
—Alright… have a good practice. Knock some people out —she added with a laugh, more out of obligation than enthusiasm.
They smiled at each other and said goodbye. As Namtan was leaving, Milk commented:
—Bye, Namtan. What, you don’t even say hi anymore?
She barely turned, shot Milk a disdainful look, and walked off.
Love let out a sigh.
—Don’t mind her.
—What’s her problem with me? —asked Milk, raising an eyebrow.
—Same as always… she listens to anyone.
—And what did she hear this time?
—That we’re too close.
Milk scoffed, incredulous.
—People come up with the dumbest crap.
—And she believes it —said Love, letting out another sigh.
—Oh, Patt, you need to pick better girlfriends.
—Leave her be, she’s just insecure.
—Even so, it’s not your job to carry that.
Love looked at her for a moment and, with a small smile, ended the conversation:
—Alright, enough talking about my relationship.
In the pool, another race finished.
—So, who won the bet? —asked Milk, thoughtful.
Love brought her hand to her chin, thinking.
—I think it’s only fair that we both win.
—Yesss! We’ll celebrate our record at tonight’s party! —cheered Milk, jumping with joy.
—Finally you’ll get out of that dark and creepy cave you call your room —said Milk, teasing her.
—Be grateful we’re celebrating; otherwise, my wish would’ve been to skip the party —replied Love, making them both laugh.
It was already night and Milk could feel the party vibe as she knocked on Love’s dorm room door.
—Come in —her friend answered from inside, a bit rushed.
Milk stepped in. The room, dimly lit, was a typical shared dorm: two narrow beds, two desks; Love’s was full of books, some stacked, others open with sticky notes. On one side, the trash bin was so full that several empty cans had spilled onto the floor.
—How long has it been since you took the trash out, Patt?
—There’s no time for that when you’ve got four exams in a week.
Since Love still had a while to get ready, Milk grabbed the bag and carried it to the chute next to the common bathroom. As she tossed it, a familiar voice stopped her.
—Hey, you.
Milk turned and saw Film, one of her classmates, walking into the bathroom with a flirty smile. They shared several classes and, though they had never put a name to whatever was between them, the tension had been there for a while.
Without hesitating, she followed her in. Film stood in front of the mirror, fixing her loose dark hair. Her tan skin glowed under the white light, and those dimples on her cheeks made her impossible to ignore. She wore a black leather miniskirt that barely covered her thighs and a short top that showed off her toned stomach.
Milk leaned against the wall, watching her from behind.
—Where are you going all dressed up like that? —she asked, eyeing her up and down.
—I’d dare say the same place you’re going —Film replied, catching her gaze in the mirror.
Milk tilted her head with a crooked smile, arms crossed, making no effort to hide her shameless stare.
—Perfect… I like when we end up in the same place. With plans and with intentions.
Film turned her head just enough to glance at her sideways. Her eyes traveled slowly, from Milk’s feet all the way up.
She turned around gradually, closed the distance between them, and stood dangerously close.
—I wonder if you can handle my intentions with you —she whispered, half-smiling, playing with the zipper of Milk’s jacket.
Milk didn’t move. She only smiled faintly, calm.
—You’d be surprised at everything I can handle —she murmured in a low voice.
Film held her gaze for another second before slowly turning to leave, her perfume lingering in the air behind her.
Milk stayed leaning against the wall, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She loved the game, and tonight she was ready to play with fire.
She went back to Love’s room and, unsurprisingly, she still wasn’t ready.
—Come on, Patt, it’s getting late —said Milk, while her friend changed outfits for the umpteenth time.
At last, Love settled on a short pleated skirt and a top that left her stomach bare.
—Here, help me button this —she asked.
Milk stepped closer and began fastening the buttons of the skirt, struggling because Love wouldn’t stop moving while putting on her sneakers.
From that angle, she observed her openly: dressed almost the same as Film, but there was something different about Love, something more innocent. Her sweet perfume filled the space every time she moved. Her waist contrasted sharply with her hips, and while fastening the last button, Milk couldn’t look away.
Love straightened up and the scent of her hair surrounded her. Milk closed her eyes for an instant, dizzy from the intensity, and just then Love lost her balance, bumping softly into her.
Instinctively, Milk held her by the hips. The touch sent a shiver running from her navel up to her chest. For a second, everything stopped: Love pressed against her body, the two of them fitting perfectly.
An instant later, Love pulled her out of the trance.
—What are you doing, silly? Weren’t you in such a hurry? —she said, turning and catching Milk staring blankly.
—What? Ah… yeah, of course, let’s go —she replied, shaking her head as if nothing had happened.
They set off for the party.
—I think your girlfriend will be there —commented Milk, sideways.
—I don’t think so, she would’ve told me.
—You trust her that much?
—We wouldn’t be together if I didn’t.
Milk kept quiet for a few seconds.
—Why are you asking that? Do you know something I don’t? —insisted Love.
—No… nothing concrete. But Namtan does have a reputation, you know?
—A reputation for what?
—For cheating, for lying, for getting violent… things like that.
Love looked at her, annoyed.
—And you, do you swallow everything people say?
—Not always. I’m just saying, be careful.
Love rolled her eyes and decided to change the subject.
—Speaking of girlfriends, when are you and Film going to make it official? Everyone already assumes it’s a thing.
Milk let out a disbelieving laugh.
—Oh yeah? Then you tell me what’s going on between us, because I still don’t have a clue.
They both laughed, dissolving the tension of the moment.
They reached the party, following the reggaetón thumping from the house. It was packed: people sprawled on the lawn, others crying with smudged makeup. Inside, the heat was suffocating; the music never stopped, and the smell of weed was everywhere. Tables full of half-finished drinks and sweaty bodies perreando to the beat.
A bit farther from the chaos were some girls from the swim team. As soon as they saw Milk and Love arrive, they handed them a shot of tequila.
—For the record! —shouted one. They all clinked glasses and downed them in one go. Their throats burned.
Before they knew it, another glass was in their hands.
—For Love, who finally left her cave! —toasted Milk, making everyone laugh.
Two more rounds and the alcohol was hitting them.
Through the haze, Milk spotted a figure on the dance floor. She looked at Love knowingly. It was Namtan, dancing in the center. But what made Milk frown was who she was with: Film, pressed against her, moving shamelessly.
—Care to explain why your girlfriend is dancing like that with Film? —asked Milk.
Love looked at her, confused, until she saw the scene and laughed.
—They’ve been friends for years. Don’t be paranoid.
Milk kept watching. Film’s arms were draped over Namtan’s shoulders, and the two of them were perreando to the dirty rhythm of reggaetón.
Seeing Milk’s expression, Love leaned to her ear.
—Come on, I’ve got an idea.
She took her hand and, with some effort, pushed through the crowd until they were close to Namtan and Film. Love started dancing with confidence; Milk looked at her, confused, but soon gave in, following the wild rhythm of Rakata by Wisin & Yandel.
Love, imitating Film, placed her arms over her friend’s shoulders. Milk, copying Namtan, set her hands on Love’s waist.
The bass pounded, making their bodies vibrate. They danced closer and closer, as if trying to provoke something. The tension built.
Love’s legs brushed against Milk’s. The redhead slid an arm behind her neck and held it gently. In that instant, Milk lost sight of everything else.
She let herself be carried away by the beat, syncing with every move. She felt Love’s hot breath against her chest, the dampness of her skin from the heat, the unavoidable friction with every beat of the song.
She closed her eyes. Her whole focus was on her: on how she moved, on how she made her feel.
Milk tilted her head toward her neck; Love responded by brushing her forehead against hers. The touch made Milk turn her face. Driven by the tension that had built up, she let her nose graze Love’s cheek before locking her eyes on her lips. No words were needed: her gaze screamed it.
Love felt it. The space between them was minimal. They were still dancing, still keeping the rhythm, when Love pulled her closer, gripping her neck. The world blurred out. No one else existed. Just them, the music, and that moment teetering on the edge of disaster.
Their mouths were inches apart when suddenly someone bumped into them, snapping them back to reality.
They pulled away immediately, confused, not knowing what had just happened.
There was no time to think: it was Namtan and Film.
—Sorry! —said Film, lowering her head.
Noticing it was Milk she had bumped into, she instantly let go of Namtan and grabbed onto her arm. Milk was surprised, but it made sense when Film stumbled, holding onto her to keep from falling.
—What are you doing here? —Namtan asked Love.
—It’s because of a bet with Milk —she answered.
—With Milk?… of course, she always finds a way to stick herself in the middle of everything.
—Come on, Namnam, don’t be jealous —said Love, trying to ease the tension.
Meanwhile, Film leaned toward Milk.
—I thought you weren’t coming —she shouted almost in her ear.
—Did you miss me? —Milk replied with a flirty smile.
Film blushed and gestured for her to leave the crowd. They settled on a nearby couch. Milk rested her arm on the backrest, watching her.
—I heard you broke the record —Film whispered in her ear.
—Nothing surprising coming from me —Milk replied, smug.
Film laughed, charmed by her confidence.
—Maybe you deserve a prize for your achievement —she murmured, playing with the zipper of her jacket, pulling it down slowly, shamelessly.
Milk held her gaze.
—Will you give it to me?
—Maybe… I just might.
—And what kind of prize would you give me?
Film leaned in, lips close to her ear, ready to answer. But Milk wasn’t listening anymore.
In the crowd, she had seen something that froze her: Love and Namtan, dancing and kissing passionately in front of everyone. Namtan kissed her shamelessly, and Love did nothing to stop it; after all, she was her girlfriend. But what hurt Milk was how quickly she gave in, as if everything else vanished.
A knot formed in her chest. She didn’t know if it was anger, jealousy, or both, but what irritated her most was being unable to look away. She saw Namtan grab her hand and drag her out of the crowd, until she lost sight of them.
—Milk? —Film’s voice snapped her back.
She blinked and pulled herself together.
—Sorry, I didn’t hear you well, the music’s too loud —she lied.
—I said we should go somewhere else to find out —Film replied, annoyed.
With some effort, Film got up and, grabbing Milk’s hand, pushed through the crowd. On the way, she picked up an abandoned glass and downed it in one gulp.
—Shouldn’t you slow down a bit? —asked Milk.
—Don’t be such a buzzkill —she answered with a crooked smile.
They went upstairs. Film clung to her arm and stumbled once, laughing, while Milk held her steady so she wouldn’t fall.
At the top, without warning, Film shoved her against the wall and kissed her. Not softly: the kisses were intense, hungry, devouring. Milk froze for a second, but soon matched her pace.
Film yanked Milk’s jacket open.
—You’re so toned… —she whispered, running her hand along her firm torso, sculpted by countless hours in the pool.
Every desperate touch from Film aroused her more, the urgent contact, almost frantic, igniting her. Suddenly, Film’s hand slid lower, trying to slip into her pants.
—Wait —said Milk, grabbing her wrist— Not here.
—No one’s looking, don’t worry.
—Film, no —she repeated, firmer this time.
Film looked at her with frustration, pulled free, and started trying the doorknobs along the hallway, finding them all locked.
—We should knock fir—
But Milk didn’t get to finish: a door opened, and Film yanked her inside.
The door slammed shut behind them.
And Milk froze.
What she saw inside chilled her blood, leaving her heart stuck in her throat.