Say Love

By Veronica Riley

Effie Knight's girlfriend breaks up with her, because she thinks Effie's in love with her best friend, Brynn Wescott. That can't be right, can it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Veronica Riley
• Release date: May 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393154747

Veronica Riley

Ronnie is a queer, nonbinary writer based in Ontario, Canada, who uses they/them pronouns. They are a Special Event Manager, who graduated with honours from George Brown College. It comes in handy for writing, since they meet so many interesting real life characters. Ronnie enjoys crafting (particularly loom-knitting and sewing), creating resources for educational purposes, and TV shows. They have four cats: Tilly, Darcy, Charlie, and Reggie. You can check out their cattagram @therileycats! They often post photos of their girlfriend’s cats, Minnie and Sophie, a stray they feed (Frankie), and other cats they meet on their adventures. ··· Quick Facts: · 27 · nonbinary · they/them · demisexual · biromantic · ADHD · GAD · MDD · PTSD · #MeToo · cat-lover · tea-drinker · aquarius · enneagram: 2w1 · ENFP · ··· Follow Ronnie on social media: Twitter: @withlove_ronnie Instagram: @withlove_ronnie Facebook: With Love, Ronnie Tumblr: @withlove-ronnie Discord: withloveronnie#7752 Ko-Fi: @withlove_ronnie Patreon: @withlove_ronnie

Book preview

ONE

It’s been such a long day, and all I want to do is fall apart. Instead, I’m rocking back and forth on my feet, staring up at the dark window, of my best friend’s house. There’s no one else who understands me quite like she does. I toss another pebble, like I’m in some cheesy rom-com. Except in this case, I’m queer and my best friend is straight. And in this case, I’m not here to beg for forgiveness or to tell Brynn Wescott that I’m madly in love with her.

There’s no activity from her window, so I frown and pull out my cell phone. I already have our conversation open, because it’s rare for me to have anything else open. Brynn is my life, and I know that seems dramatic, but it’s true. There’s absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do for her. No matter if we grow up and get married, we’re going to be soul mates. There’s not a single doubt in my mind.

9:29PM

hey asshole, i shouldn’t have to text you. the rock throwing is supposed to do all the work!

I wait for a response, leaning against the tree. I mean, really, I could knock on the front door and no one would really question it. Our names go together. Brynn and Effie, people say. We’re a unit. A team against the world. People don’t even bother giving us individual invites. It’s just assumed that if Brynn is going somewhere, I’m right there beside her or vice versa.

I remember the first time it happened. It was in fourth grade and Alison Dietrich handed me an invite, but didn’t give one to Brynn. Brynn was so hurt; she ran to the bathroom. It was only after I yelled at Alison for being so rude that she pointed out the invite had both our names on it. I had to go and calm Brynn down, and we promised each other we would never do anything alone on the sticky bathroom floor that day.

The memory brings a warmth to my chest. Brynn is my ride or die. My lifelong. My reason for getting up in the morning. Now, where the hell is she? It never takes her this long to open the window.

I toss another pebble at the window, and wonder - not for the first time - what they’d think if I ever actually broke the window. I’d obviously offer to pay for it, but would the glass shatter? Or would it just crack? Would there only be a little tiny hole where the rock entered? Part of me wants the window to break just so I know.

My phone vibrates in my hand.

BRYNN      9:32PM

idiot!!! i’m at your house...

I smile despite myself. Of course, Brynn came to me. Today had been such a shit show, and the only saving grace had been the fact that I knew I’d see Brynn tonight. I text her back and let her know that I want her to come home. My house is too tense these days.

Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I drop the remaining pebbles from my hand, and walk closer to the house. I jump a few times because I’m so short, but eventually my fingers catch the hidden string hanging down beside the post. I yank on it, and the emergency ladder comes flying down out of the eaves-trough.

I hate climbing up this thing. It’s so damn shaky since it’s just a rope ladder. But when I get onto the side porch roof, I pull it back up. Heights no longer spook me anymore; not since last year when I accidentally fell off the porch roof and sprained my wrist. Brynn had handwritten copies of her notes for me for two weeks.

I carefully pin the string back in place so that Brynn can yank it down if she chooses to come into the house this way. It’s always a pain having to shove it back up if we both choose to sneak out. But Brynn’s paranoid that some murderer is going to use it as a straightforward way to break in and kill her family if we don’t hide it. We have a stick that we use to shove it back up into the eaves trough. (On more than one occasion, it’s gotten stuck and Brynn’s had to tip toe through the house to toss it down for me.)

Once it’s in place again, I creep up to her bedroom window. We really lucked out that this is the room she decided on when they first moved into this house. It makes coming and going without disturbing the rest of her family easy. I pull her window open and push her screen in. We’d broken the