No Time Like Now (Lesbian)

Chapter Six

Ikra should have called out from her job; she'd be able to get Jeremiah to stop jabbing me in the ribs. Because I apparently need to be my own knight in shining armor for today, I grab his fingers and twist his arm around him.

"Dude! You're gonna break my arm!" he protests, weaving out of my grasp.

"Well let me finish before you keep spazzing out!"

"I-- will-- no--oh hey, Aspen, I'm right on time."

I whip my head to the closed door, giving Jeremiah the opportunity to yank my hand off his appendages. I flip him off.

"Really, pretending someone was there?" I hiss. "It's a nasty trick I never thought you'd bring yourself down to."

Wiping imaginary dust off his green hoodie, he says, "Weird of you to think I can still bring myself down, but okay. And it was one way to get you to stop."

"Right, because you totally weren't poking me seconds before! And for what reason?"

He shrugs. "I got bored waiting for Aspen to open the door. You were there. I haven't poked anything all day."

Stupid Jeremiah and his stupid thing with poking other things.

Standing up straight, he knocks on the door again. This time, the door opens. A cute girl, still holding onto the doorknob, stares at us. Once she focuses on Jeremiah, she cracks a smile.

"You must be my appointment," she says. Extending the empty hand, she adds, "I'm Aspen."

Jeremiah doesn't take it immediately; he's processed everything in front of him and he has no idea how to proceed. Because I have manners, I take Aspen's hand.

"Hi, I'm Niamh, the nicer half," I greet while giving her a firm handshake and . . . wow, her hand is soft.

She slowly retreats it from me, to my disappointment. "It's nice to meet you," she tells me. She's the first person I've talked to in years to actually mean it. "Why don't you and Jeremiah come on in? The IDs should be finished in a couple minutes, if not by now."

Both Jeremiah and I step into the apartment located at the bottom of the complex. We're met with darkness, much to my surprise. Do fake IDs need to be made in pitch black?

The light turns on. I turn to see Aspen next to the light switch with an apologetic smile. "I was in the middle of a nap when you guys came up," she explains. "My school and business tend to take a lot out of me."

I scrunch my eyebrows. She looks around our age, but this is the first time I've seen her. She's got a round face with Korean features and tousled dark-brown hair. While I know several girls at school with a similar appearance, I also notice a tattoo (I can't tell what it's of, though) starting behind her right ear and leading down inside the sleeve of her t-shirt, where it ends under the cotton and leaves the rest of the arm blank from the elbow down. I definitely would have remembered someone with a strange marking like that.

"What school do you go to?" I ask her, after I give up trying to recognize her.

"Online. It's more convenient for me." She says this as if this isn't the first time she's been asked.

Jeremiah hasn't spoken a single word since we got inside. I tap on his shoe. "Got anything you wanna say?"

He clears his throat and looks at the floor. "Uh, no?"

Huh, he's never shy. Does he like Aspen and is afraid I'd make fun of him for it? Not saying I wouldn't if that's the case.

Aspen gestures to a room behind her. "I'll go see if the cards are ready yet," she says. "Why don't you make yourself at home?"