Chapter Text
Angela HATED church. She hated the songs about salvation, the uncomfortable pews, and the assortment of old men droning on about nothing. What she didn't hate, though, was Amanda. And Amanda loved church. She was, as Angela often joked, a "church freak". She loved the songs, and the community, and the prayers. Every Sunday, she would show up at Angela's doorstep ready to head down the road together to their local church. And every Sunday, Angela couldn't say no. Yes, she hated church, but her love for her best friend outweighed any hatred she had. She almost enjoyed it, she sometimes thought; walking down the street holding hands, arms swinging as they marched together. Well, she enjoyed the walk at least.
Amanda and Angela's families had been friends before the girls were even born - they were church families through and through. Their moms had met at church, and even when they grew older, and had families of their own, they never stopped showing up for Sunday mass. Sometimes it was more for the gossip than for God, but that was for the mothers to know, and the mothers only.
As their girls grew up, and grew closer, their church visits never grew less frequent, much to the delight of their parents. As far as Angela's mom was aware, her daughter was simply going for the love of Christ. She was, after all, a Good Christian Girl. Who definitely wasn't falling harder for her friend each day, questioning her faith as she grew closer to Amanda and further from God.
Of course Angela knew about being gay. She knew the pastor thought it was a sin, and that the bible agreed with him. She knew her family would whisper about people they knew, speculating their sexuality but never daring to say anything out loud, as if they would catch it. And she knew that she was gay. It wasn't hard to figure out, with the way she felt about Amanda permeating through her body every time they touched, and her ever-growing love for 'fashion' magazines. What was hard to figure out, however, was what to do with this new-found knowledge. She considered telling her mom, but quickly backtracked, realising that maybe that wasn't the best thing to do unless she wanted the whole town (and the next town over) to know. And besides, she wasn't completely sure how her mom would react. Positively, she hoped, or neutral at the very least, but there was no guarantee. At least she found comfort in knowing that Amanda would be there for her, no matter who she liked or what kind of person she was going to become.
Angela sometimes felt as if she should be more ashamed of her sexuality. That she should be on her knees at night, crying for forgiveness from God. That she should tear out her soul and replace it with a new one, one that wouldn't lead her astray. But in reality, she didn't really care. Well, she did at first. When she was thirteen years old, she would cry during sermons about love, wondering why God would punish her with loving ‘wrongly’. But as she grew up, she came to the decision that if it was a sin to want to be held, to want to be loved by a woman, then she was proud to be a sinner. She never acted upon her feelings, of course. Even if it wasn’t for Amanda being straight, most people in the town were less than tolerant of “the gays”, and Angela didn’t want to run the risk of being found out. Self acceptance can only go so far.
She'd had feelings for Amanda for as long as she could remember. Not always romantic, but always feelings. At one point, though she struggled to believe it some days, she hated her. She hated that someone could love going to a church and being told how to live their life. It didn't take her long to move past that anger, though, as she realised she'd much rather keep her best friend than lose her over a stupid one-sided disagreement. After that, she stopped pretending she didn't love Amanda. They were best friends after all - and everyone knows best friends love each other. Platonically. They had nicknames for each other, spent countless days and nights together, and were virtually inseparable for years. And it was all platonic. For Amanda at least. For Angela on the other hand, it was far from it. Any touch, any glance, any shared interest, was another sign that they were ‘fated’. She treasured any time they spent together, doing everything in her power to make the days last longer and time pass slower. She never brought it up to Amanda; after all, she had a boyfriend. That was another issue. The boyfriend.
He seemed nice, sure. He would make sure that Angela was included in things when possible, making sure that she wasn't an offhand thought. Unlike some of Amanda's previous exes, he understood how close the two were, and didn't try to get between their friendship. And Angela could tell how happy Amanda was with him. She seemed to glow whenever the three of them were together, and her dreams of having a family in the future seemed to become more and more real each day. It was perfect. In public.
Despite their sleepovers becoming less and less frequent with the introduction of The Boyfriend (he did have a name, but Angela felt that would give him “too much power”), their conversations in private never became less interesting. They were each other's confessionals, sharing secrets in the dark that they would never trust the day with. At one of their ever more sacred sleepovers, the whispers of nothing and everything turned to talking about dating, and Angela could feel Amanda tense up under the covers. Reaching under the covers, Angela searched around for her hand, eventually taking it into her own.
“You okay, Mandy?” Angela whispered, not trying to hide the concern in her voice. Amanda paused, and let out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.
“Yeah, I'm fine. It's just- I don't know, I feel like I’m going to sound crazy…”
Trying to reassure her, Angela rubbed her thumb in circles over Amanda's hand.
“‘Manda, you know I'll always believe you. I don't care if you sound crazy - I’ll be crazy with you.”
Amanda laughed softly, and Angela could feel her breath near her face.
Amanda continued speaking, “Sometimes, when I'm with James, I get this weird feeling that something's missing. I wouldn't be able to tell you what - I don't know myself. Everything’s perfect, so I don't know why I feel like it's not. I love him. And I know he loves me too. It's just that there's this weird empty space in my mind that I can't get rid of when I think about us.”
Amanda's voice became shaky, and Angela could feel her turn away, her grip loosening on her hand.
“Hey, Amanda, it's ok, I promise. We're still kids - not everything has to be perfectly figured out yet.”
“I know, it's just- I feel like I should be happy. So why aren't I?”
Angela shuffled closer to her under the covers, hugging her from behind and running a hand through her hair to comfort her.
“Mandy, you'll be okay. We'll be ok. You're the nicest, most funny, most beautiful person I know, and you deserve more love than you realise you're worthy of. And I'll be here for you through it all, I promise.”
She could feel Amanda relax in her arms at that, her breathing becoming less erratic by the second.
“Thanks, Angie, I love you too,” she whispered, barely audible.
Amanda pulled Angela's arms closer around her, and the two drifted off to sleep, dreaming of nothing but each other.
As the years continued, the pair never grew distant. That was, until Amanda finished high school, and was moving half way across the country with her boyfriend for college. Angela had spent countless days begging her to stay, or at least go somewhere closer, but she knew it was a lost cause. Amanda had spent years dreaming of going to college to study journalism, and now that she'd gotten into her dream college to study her dream course, Angela knew it was an offer she wouldn't say no to. And her boyfriend going to the same college was an added bonus, too, Amanda said. The jealousy coursing through Angela's veins never stopped as Amanda talked dreamily about her future plans; she and her boyfriend were going to move into an apartment together on the outskirts of the campus, and she was going to get to do all the decorating. Angela could imagine how she'd adorn the apartment with candles and twinkle lights and trinkets, and she so desperately wished that it could be her moving into the apartment with Amanda, not The Boyfriend. It was fine, she would tell herself at night. It was fine - they would still keep in contact, and Amanda promised to call her every day, or as frequently as she possibly could. When the day came for Amanda to leave, Angela didn't cry. She just hugged Amanda tighter than she ever had, trying to memorise how her arms felt around her, trying to absorb every inch of Amanda's soul, and make sure that she'd never forget the feeling of being loved.