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Imogen can't catch Sahar's eye. They're in the tent that they're supposed to be sharing for Charlie's birthday sleepover. Whoever decided to put them together evidently hadn't realised that they've barely spoken since they shared their second kiss on New Year's, and quite frankly, neither of them know where their relationship stands. Sure, their kiss on Halloween had been more enlightening for Imogen than she wanted to admit. But the New Years kiss? She was basically sober for that one. So she couldn't blame it on the alcohol anymore. Not just the fact that it happened in the first place, but that it was the first time she'd ever actually enjoyed a kiss with someone. Kissing Ben was bearable at best, and she figured that that's what it'd just be like for the rest of her life.
Whilst Sahar had tilted Imogen's world on its axis, and there was a million questions she wanted to ask her, she knew that it was simultaneously ruining Sahar. Post-Halloween she had basically disappeared for the entire half term before Christmas, and Imogen was becoming increasingly worried about her. The message she'd sent her out of the blue on Christmas Day just made things worse, it was like there was still a tiny bit of potential. Then she had ditched her at the New Year's party to dance with a boy yet Imogen still somehow managed to find Sahar again just before midnight and they ended up kissing, despite Sahar directly stating that she wasn't there for Imogen to kiss her. Imogen knew then that it really wasn't fair on Sahar. She couldn't keep on hurting someone like that, and she shouldn't let herself be the reason why Sahar had to distance herself from all of their other friends.
So she had to be the one to distance herself from Sahar. She removed herself from their friendship, because Sahar shouldn't have to be the one to do that. She stopped showing up at parties, and she wouldn't have any conversations with Sahar that exceeded small talk. It worked, for the most part. She couldn't let it ruin their friend group. It's not like they really noticed that anything was wrong, anyway. The topic of them snogging at Sahar's Halloween party was only good gossip for so long. But it's the first time they've all hung out in months, and Imogen has realised that maybe apologising to Sahar without kissing her is probably the right first step to make if she hopes to rekindle their friendship anytime soon.
"Things have been really awkward between us since New Years." She manages to say.
"Yeah." Sahar replies, only briefly looking up at her and going back to arranging her belongings.
Imogen opens her mouth, expectantly, stuttering slightly. The words don't come out. Sahar doesn't even seem to notice, her eyes are firmly fixed on the ground as if she's never been more interested in something. "I've been doing a lot of thinking and reflecting," she finally manages to admit, "recently."
It's then that Sahar stops messing with their blanket, her eyes swiftly darting up to meet Imogen's. She listening properly now. Her eyebrows are raised a little, looking hopeful, but there's still an underlying sadness painted across her expression. Imogen swallows guilty knowing that it's probably because of her, but she reminds herself that it's a good thing. It makes her more determined to give a genuine, proper apology this time. She's planned it out, she knows what she's going to say. She just needs to actually execute it without messing up.
"I have no idea who I am," Imogen looks around awkwardly. Their shared tent feels all too large and cold. "I don't really know much about anything at the moment, actually. But what I do know, is I don't want to keep hurting you."
Sahar smiles at her, sadly, and she looks down again. The tension between them could be cut with a knife. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to apologise, and then Sahar would forgive her, and then they'd go back to being best friends again. She can't understand why nothing is straightforward these days.
"Do you hate me?" Imogen questions her. It's a genuine question, because it doesn't feel all that unlikely. She knows Sahar wouldn't be in the wrong for doing so.
Sahar shakes her head like Imogen's question is the stupidest thing she's ever been asked, and for the first time in a while, Imogen feels okay. "No, I don't think I could ever hate you. You helped me realise something," she stops briefly, her eyes glistening, "pretty big about myself."
"I mean, I could say the same about you."
Imogen didn't even think before saying it. She hadn't really even admitted it to herself. But deep down, she knew it.
Everything just comes flowing out after that.
"I don't think I've ever liked a boy-" Imogen starts, and Sahar's mouth drops open. She tries to close it again quickly, but Imogen notices faster. She looks shocked, like she wasn't expecting Imogen to say that at all. Well, guess what? Imogen hadn't been expecting to say it, either! If you'd have told her this time last year, when she was in the middle of her embarrassingly atrocious relationship with Ben Hope, that she was going to realise that she didn't even like boys, she wouldn't have believed you. Goodness, it wasn't long before that she had been proclaiming her allyship. "I think I felt like, a pressure, to have a boyfriend. Because I was a 'cool girl' and that's what cool girls do," she croaks, and she's just mocking herself. Sahar smiles at her sympathetically, like she's a wounded puppy, and she can't decide whether she wants to scream at her or kiss her again.
"You were really cool," Sahar says quietly, a bit of reassurance. She's smiling kindly in a way that suggests that she's telling the truth, but at the same time trying to lighten up the situation, "For a while I thought I was just really jealous of you."
"Of me?" Imogen asks, leaning in endearingly, "I was jealous of you!"
"Shut up," Sahar hits her defensively, but her cheeks are red. "Everyone hated me. All of your friends were horrible to me, I know they thought I was weird. So don't lie." She deadpans, and Imogen backs up slightly. With Sahar, she always seems to say or do the wrong thing.
"I still wanted you around, though. You meant more to me than any of them. You know that," Imogen says. She loves Sahar, and she knows that she's in the wrong here, but she wasn't in the wrong when they stopped talking. Sahar was the one who stopped texting her. She knows that for definite, because Sahar's message was the last one in their conversation. She'd gone back and checked again after they kissed for the second time, desperately trying to understand Sahar because for some reason it felt like she was speaking to her in cryptic messages.
Sahar sighs loudly, like she's heard it a million times before. Quite frankly, it makes Imogen feel like shit.
"I was so, so desperate to be liked," Imogen self-pityingly rolls her eyes, breathing heavily. The tears start coming out in heavy, fully-formed droplets as she says it. Sahar has seen her cry a million times, but it hasn't ever been quite like this. "I didn't like Ben, I didn't like Nick, I didn't like my year 10 boyfriend. I thought kissing was supposed to be one of those things that made you feel a bit nauseous, and that having a boyfriend was supposed to feel like having a permanent panic attack-"
"Imogen."
"I liked having their attention. It made me feel important, like I was doing life right."
"Imogen," Sahar repeats, louder. She's placed her hand on Imogen's and it sends a shock of electricity through her veins.
Imogen tries to ignore that feeling and shakes her head, "I'm sorry. That probably made no sense."
"No. I understand," Sahar says. She could've stopped there, but her stupid mouth decides to ruin the moment. "Well, of course, not fully. But I get where you're coming from. I think I know what you're trying to say."
"You do?" Imogen asks, she sounds so unsure. Sahar wants to envelop her in a hug but even just the touch of her skin is too much at the moment.
"Yeah."
For some reason, they've both leaned in and their faces are inches away. So close that can feel the soft warmth of Sahar's breath, short and heavy inhales and exhales. Her face is painted with a million different emotions and for a second it feels like they're about to kiss again. But they both know better.
"I love you, Sahar," Imogen whispers, "You know that, right?"
"Yeah," Sahar nods and for the first time, she doesn't seem at all doubtful. "I'm starting to think that maybe I knew all along."