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1
Nancy liked to consider herself the smart one of their little group. Not, perhaps, the one that consistently got the highest grades, nor the standout student, but the only one with her head screwed on in the right direction and possessing a touch of forethought.
It was probably just this fact that relegated her to resident excuse-maker for their little group.
So, when Nancy felt Olivia, Jane, and Hazel’s eyes fall on her while they sat at a booth in Frosty’s on a Friday afternoon, she knew what task had befallen her.
“I thought Cynthia was meeting us here,” Jane frowned, resting her chin on her hands. “Nancy, did you catch her after school?”
“Uh-huh…” Nancy twirled the straw in her milkshake. She had seen Cynthia, or rather, she had caught her eye when she walked out of the school gates next to Lydia. “She, uh, had to go home first.”
It had been weeks since Cynthia had told her about herself, about Lydia, about the story of their Romeo and Juliette rehearsals. Since then, Nancy had served as a loyal confidant, the holder of a growing secret that Cynthia was holding on to. Nancy did not begrudge her it, and had in fact volunteered to help keep it hidden for as long as she needed to feel comfortable.
Olivia narrowed her eyes. Her perfect fingernails tapped a rhythm on the table that did not feel so different from a direct line of scrutiny.
“Yeah,” Nancy added quickly, “she said Pappa Zdunowski was getting off early tonight, so she might not make it.”
“Oh, is everything okay?” A line appeared between Hazel’s eyebrows as she looked at Nancy in honest concern.
If Nancy had not been so preoccupied with fending off questions on Cynthia’s behalf, she might have felt a little bad. They had all come to understand that Cynthia’s home situation was far from simple over the past months. “Oh, fine, I’m sure,” Nancy said.
Jane’s expression flickered, but she made no comment.
Nancy counted that as a win and resolved to find Cynthia before school on Monday, to let her know that Pappa Zdunowski had finished work early on Friday, and she had been home to spend time with him. And to let her know that a favour was owed.
2
At least the second time it had happened, Nancy had been given a few hours of notice.
“Nancy, please,” Cynthia had begged over the phone. “Lydia said the play is really good, and Floyd was grounded for breaking his curfew, so he can’t go anymore, and-.”
“Do Lydia’s parents happen to be away tonight?” Nancy sighed, rolling her eyes. She held the phone between her ear and shoulder, as she half-heartedly attempted to straighten the pages of homework she had been avoiding thus far.
There was a moment of silence. “Maybe…” Cynthia muttered.
Nancy shrieked, abandoning her schoolwork and grasping at the phone like her mother did whenever she heard something particularly scandalous. “Cynthia! ”
“Oh, my God, shut up,” Cynthia whined. “We were just going to watch television or something.”
“I’m sure you were.” Nancy wiggled her eyebrows and hoped that Cynthia could feel the mockery through the wire. “Some television, and some Meissner, and stage kisses, and-.”
Cynthia cut her off by talking louder and quicker. “Shut up, absolutely not, no way, not a chance!”
Nancy laughed and rebalanced the phone on her shoulder.
“So, will you do it?” Cynthia asked after Nancy had regained control of herself.
“If you insist,” Nancy sighed dramatically, “But you owe me, okay?” She waited for Cynthia to sigh in agreement. “I need a model for some new designs, so you’re coming with me after school on Monday.”
“Yes, yes, fine,” Cynthia sighed.
Nancy grinned, as she scribbled a note to herself on a corner of her homework. A win-win situation, really. Cynthia got to spend her night with Lydia, and Nancy got a model obligated to sit through pinpricks and endless adjustments.
“Alrighty, then,” she chirped, “Have fun with Lydia!”
“Shut up,” Cynthia moaned. She hung up before Nancy could finish laughing, or remember to ask what excuse she should actually give.
The end call dial tone rang in Nancy’s ear, and cursing that it had once again fallen to her to think up a suitable excuse, she hung the phone back on the receiver and set about trying to get something done before leaving for the evening.
(“Oh, yeah? Cynthia? She got… grounded. Yeah. So, we’ll see her at school on Monday instead.)
3
They were having a picnic in the local park the next time it happened. An array of food, arranged on paper plates that were steadily being picked clean, was arranged between the five of them as they lounged in the afternoon sun.
California was seldom cold, but there was something especially nice about the sunlight of early spring. Appetites sated and conversation having slowed, they had drifted to a peaceful and easy quiet. While Jane and Hazel spoke quietly, Nancy, Olivia, and Cynthia each pored over books for upcoming school tasks.
The parks were always busy at this time of year. Parents trying to coax their children into burning off energy, children being allowed out alone with their friends for the first time, teenagers looking for a respite from school.
It probably should not have come as a surprise that there were others from Rydell at the park. Yet, it still managed to catch Nancy off guard when she saw Lydia out of the corner of her eye.
She looked up from her science homework and her eyes slide over to Cynthia, who was lying on her stomach and scanning her finger over a script.
As if detecting Nancy’s gaze, Cynthia looked up, first at Nancy, and then pushed herself up high enough to look around.
Nancy saw the moment that Cynthia’s attention slipped. There were a few things that Nancy had come to understand well about Cynthia, and one of those key items was that Cynthia had a one-track mind. When she saw something that caught her attention or set her mind on something, everything else was sidelined in the blink of an eye.
Without so much as a warning, Cynthia stumbled to her feet and walked over to Lydia with a cheeky grin growing on her face.
So much for subtlety. Nancy could have cuffed her around the head.
“Wha…” Jane began, drifting off as she watched Cynthia practically skip over. Cynthia did not skip.
Nancy cleared her throat. “New play, I bet,” she said, loudly. She flipped over Cynthia’s script. “Yep, see? Blood Wedding by Lorca.” Nancy paused as she recognised it as the play that she and Lydia had seen the week before, and fought back an affectionate grimace. “Bet she’s checking something about it.”
Hazel opened her mouth, and Nancy levelled her with an almighty glare.
“Oh, uh-huh,” Hazel added, a moment too late and a degree too stiffly. “New play that we’re, uh, doing a case study of.” Somehow, Hazel was an even worse liar than Cynthia herself was.
Nancy gave a high-pitched laugh that even she knew sounded a little too shrill to be true.
Jane and Olivia were both frowning at Lydia and Cynthia.
Nancy turned slowly to look too, almost afraid of what she might find. She was unsurprised, but almost saddened, to see that they really did just look like two friends having a conversation. Perhaps it was true that they leaned into each other just a touch too far, but it was nothing that an unsuspecting eye would make anything of.
If it had been Hazel and Wally, or even Nancy herself and Potato, there would not have been half as much ambiguity.
“I didn’t realise she was still with the thespians,” Jane said. “I thought she stopped after-“ she hesitated for a moment and cast a furtive look in Cynthia’s direction “- the play.”
Ah, yes, the play. Outside of Nancy herself, she was fairly certain that Cynthia was yet to fill anyone else in on the specifics of what had gone down there. It had left the whole situation as a splotch several months back that no one seemed to know quite how to address.
“Nope,” Hazel said a little too quickly, “She started back again. A few weeks ago.”
It was short and stumbly, but when Nancy narrowed her eyes in her direction, she could tell it was at least somewhat truthful. If nothing else, she had to give it to Hazel: terrible liar though she might have been, and without knowing at all what she was covering up here, she was doing her best to preserve Cynthia’s secret.
Nancy glanced behind herself again. If she had not borne witness to Cynthia talking about Lydia as much as she had, she might not have recognised the love-sick look on her face. She turned back and found Olivia looking in the same direction, her expression contemplative.
Nancy cleared her throat loudly. “Anyway,” she said, “Olivia, you have to explain this book to me because I’ve got to write an essay on it and haven’t finished the first chapter yet.”
Olivia’s eyes left Cynthia, and rolled as she turned back to Nancy. “Have you even started?”
Grinning, Nancy shook her head. “Jane hasn’t either - she told me yesterday!”
Jane gasped, bringing her hand to her chest. “I told you that in confidence!”
Hazel snorted in amusement and took a biscuit from the plate in front of her.
Mission accomplished: attention removed from Cynthia and her pining. By the time she rejoined them, she would be able to hop back in without issue. And Cynthia would owe her another afternoon of test-dummying Nancy’s latest designs.
Really, another win-win all around.
4
“Do you think I should tell them?”
Nancy looked up from her sketches with a jolt. “Like about…?”
Cynthia gave a small hum of agreement and took a long sip of her milkshake. Frosty’s had closed for the night, leaving just Cynthia and Nancy in the front-of-house to complete their homework, while Nancy’s parents closed up out back.
“Why are you asking me?” Nancy put her pencil down and sat back in the booth. She crossed her arms across her chest and frowned at Cynthia. “Just do it when you feel ready.”
Cynthia hesitated. “What if I’m never ready?” she asked in a horribly small voice.
In Nancy’s mind, Cynthia was larger than life. When she stepped into a room, she occupied every corner like sunshine itself. Seeing her crawling into her own skin was so objectively wrong that it made Nancy squirm, too.
“You’ll be ready one day,” Nancy said firmly. “Just because it’s not today doesn’t mean it’s never going to happen.”
Cynthia’s nose wrinkled in the way that it often did when she was trying her very best to hold her emotions back. “I don’t want to keep secrets from them.” She swung her hands in front of herself wildly, gesturing in a way that Nancy was not quite sure how to interpret. “Olivia and Jane and Hazel - they’ve told us so much stuff. And now I’m just-.” She pursed her lips, cutting herself off before she could finish her sentence.
Nancy knew what she was implying, though. “It’s completely different situations,” she said, “You’re allowed to be a bit scared, you know?”
“Yeah, but…” Cynthia started.
“Yeah, but!” Nancy parroted, “Yeah, but nothing. If it’s big for you, then you should give it the respect it’s worth. It’s allowed to be a big thing.”
“It’s just…” With a grimace, Cynthia trailed off again. She swirled the straw around her milkshake and stared into the depths of the glass.
Nancy nodded at her encouragingly. She picked up her pencil and held it underneath the table, spinning it between her fingers as she waited.
The best that Nancy could offer Cynthia was unconditional friendship and whatever advice came off the top of her mind. There was nothing that she could say or do that was ever likely to settle every thought that was running through Cynthia’s mind at that moment.
“Lydia and I were talking…” Cynthia started again. She stared resolutely at her lap, glancing up once every few seconds as if she was terrified of seeing how Nancy might react. “She wants to tell some of the other thespians. Just like Floyd and Arthur or something, but…”
“That’s good, right?” Nancy said carefully.
Cynthia seemed to writhe at the thought. “It is, but-” she sighed and waved her hands again as if that explained it all. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t I tell the others, too?”
“You don’t have to tell them before you’re ready too,” Nancy said firmly, “But, come on, this is the Pink Ladies! For when you are ready - just remember that we all love you, it’s not like they’d think any different of you.”
Cynthia gave her a doubtful look.
Nancy leant forward, crossing her arms on the table. “Seriously, Cynthia. Whenever you’re ready to tell them, it’ll be fine .”
“You can’t promise that,” Cynthia said. Her voice was oddly thick.
Nancy extended her hands towards Cynthia. Without a word, Cynthia took them and let Nancy squeeze her fingers tight. “Well, I am. And if they put even a toe out of line, I’ll exploit all their weaknesses until they’re begging for mercy.” She tipped her head to the side and grinned. “Promise!”
Cynthia gave a watery chuckle, which was good enough for Nancy.
“When’s Lydia telling the thespians?” Nancy asked.
“Next weekend,” Cynthia said. “She asked me to come, too.” There was a moment’s pause. “I know that we’re meant to be sleeping over at Jane’s that night, but can you please cover me?”
Nancy narrowed her eyes.
Cynthia sighed. “Yes, I promise I’ll try on whatever you want me to.”
“Fine,” Nancy said, “But I’m telling them that - I don’t know - your aunt is sick, or something.”
Cynthia stuck her tongue out and said, “Second cousin is better. He’s the only other family member I have in the state.”
“Second cousin, then. I’m going to call him Clarence. Deal?”
“Deal,” Cynthia agreed with a roll of her eyes.
5
“Have you seen Cynthia?”
Nancy looked up from her magazine.
“She’s late. Again!” Jane said, tapping her fingers on the desktop. “Maybe we should just start without her…?”
Hazel flitted around the room. “We can’t have a meeting without her, can we? Doesn’t she have to be here to have a meeting about your presidential campaign for next year?” She struggled to stay still for more than a few moments, switching between pacing the floor and tapping her foot on the linoleum flooring.
Olivia glanced at the door, to Jane, to Hazel, and finally to Nancy. “Maybe she got a detention.”
“Nope,” Nancy said, “She was in theatre last period.”
Three pairs of eyes fell on Nancy as she realised what she said.
“Or, yeah, I meant..." she said, weakly, “Maybe she did get a detention.”
Olivia raised her eyebrow at Nancy. “You can get a detention in theatre class?” Her eyes flicked to the clock. Fifteen minutes late now, and counting.
“You can get a detention in any class with enough determination,” Nancy said. She theorised that you could, at least. Before the one she had received in home economics at the start of that school year, she had not actually even been aware of which room detention was even held in.
The hum of agreement that came from Olivia did not manage to sound fully convinced.
Nancy set her magazine down, her mind racing, as she slapped her knee hard. “Actually, I know where she is,” she said, “she has a dentist appointment. So she, uh, had to leave school a bit early.”
“A dentist appointment,” Jane repeated slowly. It was hard to tell if she believed it or not.
“Uh-huh,” Nancy said, “Root canal, maybe. Who knows. Anyway, let’s start the meeting! Maybe she’ll catch up with us, if the - ah hem - dentist appointment goes quickly.”
Hazel cleared her throat. “Well, I mean…”
Olivia and Jane exchanged a look that Nancy was not privy to. She felt her stomach turn uncomfortably, though, as they gave in and started to draw up some plans.
Another five minutes passed, then fifteen, then thirty. By the time it had reached the detention bell, Nancy was almost certain that Cynthia had forgotten them altogether. In some ways, that might have been easier. She could phone Cynthia tonight, and let her know to fake the results of severe dental work for the following day.
Only a little while after the detention bell, though, Cynthia hurtled into the classroom. “Sorry I’m late!” she yelled.
Nancy wished that Cynthia would have had enough forethought to check herself in a mirror first. Her hair was rumpled, her shirt crooked, and her mouth definitively swollen. No one in the room was naive enough to not know exactly what this looked like.
“Lost track of time,” Cynthia hurried to add. She sounded slightly out of breath.
Nancy stood up as quick as a dart. “From your dental appointment,” she said, “You lost track of time getting back from your dental appointment.”
Cynthia’s eyes widened. “My… dental appointment.” She scrubbed a hand across her face, and dragged the other through her hair, as if trying to straighten her appearance out. “Yeah, right. Massive root canal, didn’t I tell you?”
The gig was absolutely up.
Nancy slumped into her hair.
Olivia struggled to keep a straight face as she said, “Did it go well?”
“Oh, yeah, smashing,” Cynthia said. She sidled behind a desk and sat down, tugging at the collar of her shirt. “Real great, yeah…”
Jane’s mouth twitched, but she had enough decency to not push for the details. With a few, succinct sentences, she summarised the point that they had made it to and continued from there.
Meanwhile, Cynthia cast a long, sidewards glance at Nancy.
Nancy shrugged and gave her a small smile and thumbs up. She tapped a point just under her own ear, where she could see a dark splotch growing on the reciprocal point on Cynthia’s skin.
Cynthia scowled, and rubbed fiercely at it.
0
In Nancy’s professional opinion, the excuses had lost any sort of authority within six months of the beginning of the lying ordeal. By the time they were almost a year on from the original day when Lydia and Cynthia had officially decided to go steady, it was like they were beating a dead horse.
Nancy stuck by her word, though. There may have been no credibility to anything that she or Cynthia had made up, but neither Jane, Olivia, nor Hazel pressured either of them to explain exactly what they were hiding.
Or, rather, none of them had pestered Cynthia for the information. Nancy herself had been the subject of more than a few questioning looks that seemed to tell her that they at least had some level of suspicion.
Summer was once again on its way out, though, and Nancy could sense that they were getting closer to a tipping point.
Cynthia cornered her a few weeks before the annual Rydell High School Fair. They stood in Cynthia’s kitchen, pulling frozen pizzas out of the oven while the others sat in the living room behind the television.
“I want to tell them,” she said.
Nancy was shocked into rigidity. “Actually?” she squeaked.
Cynthia pursed her lips but managed a firm nod. “Actually.”
“Like… now?” Nancy asked.
There was a long moment of silence. “Now,” Cynthia agreed. She looked like she was ready to faint at the idea of it.
Nancy nodded. “Okay,” she said. “So… Do you want me to do anything to help, or…?”
Cynthia grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently. “Don’t let me chicken out, okay?” She shook Nancy a few more times. “Kick me if you have to.”
Nancy, for all her few reservations, would not be kicking Cynthia, no matter what she asked for, but nodded nonetheless. “Fine.”
“There’s pizza to soften the blow, right?” Cynthia said. She sounded like she was teetering on the edge of desperate, terrified, and bargaining with anything she had left available to her.
Nancy pulled Cynthia into a quick, tight hug. “They won’t need any pizza to win them over. Promise you.”
It seemed to do little for Cynthia’s nerves, but she managed to proffer Nancy a small smile as she picked up two of the pizzas with shaking hands. “This is fine. I have this under control. This is all going according to plan. ” Nancy could hear her muttering to herself as she returned to the living room.
Nancy followed behind her with the last of the food and deposited it on the table amongst the other plates.
There were a long few minutes of silence as they ate. Food mollified the atmosphere; in fact, if Nancy had not been acutely aware of what Cynthia planned to do and how nervous she was, she probably would not have even picked it up.
Cynthia picked at a slice of pepperoni pizza. The slice shook in her grasp as she held it.
Nancy shuffled herself a little closer to Cynthia and knocked their knees together. If nothing else, she at least needed Cynthia to know that she had her back. Cynthia was not - and never would be - alone in this.
“So,” Cynthia said after she had gritted down a few mouthfuls. “I, uh, had something I wanted to say.”
The anxiety that radiated off her was thick in her voice. Cynthia was not a nervous person by character, and it made Olivia, Jane and Hazel pause. None of them spoke; Cynthia had all the time in the world to get the words out when she was ready to.
“I… uhm…” She swallowed and put her plate down. Her fingers were visibly trembling as she wrapped her arms around her legs, and hugged them close to her stomach. “I just…”
Cynthia glanced at Nancy for reassurance, and Nancy smiled softly back at her. Without a word, Nancy took one of Cynthia’s hands and gave it a light squeeze.
“You… You know Lydia, right?” The change of track was obvious, but the others simply nodded without comment. “Lydia and I…” Cynthia glanced at the floor and took a moment to steel herself. She squeezed Nancy’s hand back and raised her head again with iron in her eyes. “Lydia and I, we’re going steady.”
There was a split second where Nancy, for one horrible moment, wondered if it was all about to go horribly wrong. Cynthia stared at the others, refusing to be cowed, and Nancy held her hand tight, in a silent I’m so proud of you.
“Really?” Hazel said. She clutched her hands across her mouth. “That’s- I’m really happy for you.”
Cynthia’s expression wobbled.
“How long for?” Olivia asked. Her expression was pensive, but kind.
“A year, almost,” Cynthia said. Her voice shook more this time, but with something indescribably overwhelmed rather than the raw anxiety of before.
Jane let out a small noise. “A year?” she repeated, “That’s so exciting!”
“Thank you for telling us,” Olivia added a moment later. “It must have been… Daunting.”
Daunting, in Nancy’s mind, having played witness to Cynthia’s internal back and forth over what she should say, was not even close to covering it.
Cynthia’s lower lip trembled. “So you’re not…”
Jane’s eyes widened. She, like everyone else in the room, knew exactly what Cynthia was trying to ask without needing the end of the question. “Of course, we don’t mind!” she said quickly, “You’re still Cynthia, aren’t you?”
Sniffling quietly, Cynthia nodded.
Olivia tucked her knees beneath her. “Lydia seems nice,” she said, “We could meet her, sometime, if you wanted.”
Cynthia finally looked away from them all. She nodded toward her own lap, and only because she was sitting right beside her, could Nancy see that she was blinking very rapidly.
“It’s just girls,” Cynthia murmured after a minute of quiet. “And you don’t mind that?”
Jane cracked first. “Of course, we don’t.” She shuffled forward on her knees and wrapped Cynthia in a hug made awkward by the misshapen ball that Cynthia had formed herself into.
Olivia and Hazel quickly joined her. Nancy could not help but put her part in, too. She could feel Cynthia’s back shaking as they sat there in their little pile of hugs.
“I promised, right?” she murmured into Cynthia’s ear.
+1
By the time the school fair came around a few weeks later, none of them - except for Nancy, who had known the entire time - had met Lydia in anything other than passing at school. It was not wholly for a lack of trying, but Nancy would not pretend to be entirely oblivious to the way Cynthia had dragged her feet
Each step in the process of telling someone about this was a big one; Nancy could not even pretend to be bothered by it.
On the day of the fete itself, they arrived as their group of five to find the grounds already filled to bursting with people. They grinned at each other like young schoolchildren as they pressed their way into the crowds. It was all too easy to gorge themselves on food, get caught up in the flow of people, and lose track of time on a hot day.
The heat and crush of people did not come without its costs, though. Mid-afternoon left Nancy desperate for a few minutes of respite from the noise, and she could see that she was not the only one. Cynthia had run her hands through her hair so many times that it was practically standing up on end, and even Hazel was starting to look like she was sweating in all the heat.
“I want to go in the maze of mirrors,” Nancy announced, pointing to the round structure that lay just a few feet away from them.
Cynthia half-heartedly punched her upper arm. “Screw off.”
“Shade…” Hazel said slowly. She shrugged and stood up, ready to make the small distance.
Cynthia huffed and hurried to walk alongside her, a few steps ahead of Olivia, Jane, and Nancy.
“So…” Olivia started, staring hard at Nancy.
Nancy grinned back at her. “That’s where they got together last year.”
Olivia and Jane’s mouths widened into little ‘o’s, before they regained control of themselves and shared a grin. “Credit where it’s due, that is kind of cute,” Jane sighed wistfully.
Nancy hummed in agreement. She grabbed Olivia and Jane’s wrists and tugged them along behind her as they followed Hazel and Cynthia to the house of mirrors.
As it had been the previous year, at first glance it was empty outside of them. Then, Nancy heard voices around the corner.
She stopped still, and Jane and Olivia bumped into her.
“What?” Jane asked, using Nancy’s shoulder as leverage to stand on her tiptoes and try to peak around the corner.
Footsteps moved toward them, and Hazel appeared with a soft smile on her face.
Nancy, Jane, and Olivia all looked at her expectantly.
“Did you set it up?” Hazel asked, looking at her.
Without knowing what it was, Nancy almost considered taking credit before she shook her head. Sometimes, even Nancy had to admit, fate liked to play its funny little games and give them a happy ending.
She poked her head around the corner that opened into the main mirror chamber. In the centre, surrounded by reflections of themselves, stood Cynthia and Lydia. Their hands were linked, their foreheads almost touching. Their voices were audible, but not discernable.
Nancy’s stomach seemed to wilt as she watched them.
“Let me see,” Olivia said. She wiggled her way free of Nancy’s barricade and let herself around the corner. Immediately, she paused. “Oh,” she said, softly.
Cynthia and Lydia broke out of their world at the voice and jumped apart as though they had been burnt. Nancy’s chest ached at the moment of pain that passed across Cynthia’s face before she managed to school it back to something more casual. Lydia’s eyes slid between Cynthia and the rest of them, as though she was not quite sure where she should be focusing her attention.
Jane - blessed Jane, who seemed to be willfully ignorant to the stilted moment - pushed her way forward. “I’m Jane,” she said, sticking out her hand to Lydia as if they were perfect strangers, “We’ve met before. But now we’re meeting again, so I wanted to say hello properly.”
Lydia stalled for a moment, before taking the proffered hand and shaking it as if it were a bomb about to detonate.
Jane grinned, first at Lydia, then at Cynthia.
The line of Cynthia’s shoulders dropped immediately. A little shy, perhaps embarrassed, she stepped closer to Lydia again, enough so that their arms brushed against each other. She and Lydia exchanged a moment’s glance that said a thousand words.
Their hands linked. Nancy clutched her own hands together, too, and held them tight to her chest to keep herself from squealing. This had been the first place that she had seen Lydia and Cynthia together; a year later, it was hard to believe how far they had come. Somewhere deep in her chest, Nancy could not help but feel a swelling of pride as she saw Cynthia and Jane smile at each other.
“This is Lydia,” Cynthia said, her voice firm, “and she’s my girlfriend.” She turned to Lydia with the most impossibly soft expression on her face, one that almost made Nancy feel as though she was intruding on them.
The look that Lydia gave her was as if Cynthia had personally hung each star in the sky for her. Nancy did her best not to melt as she watched them. It was hard to overstate the glee that ran through her.
“I’m going to give you a hug,” Jane informed them. Without waiting for agreement, she dragged both Lydia and Cynthia into her embrace. It said a lot of things that no words were able to quite do justice to. We love you. We support you. We’re proud of you.
Nancy exchanged a glance with Hazel and Olivia, and they took their cue to join.
A lot had changed in a year. From secrets and white lies, to where they stood now. Nancy’s chest ached with joy on Cynthia’s behalf. In another year again, who knew what they might have achieved.