She's Half Your Age!

Everly stretched out on her bed, lights low, phone face-down beside her. When the knock came, she called out without thinking. Rachael slipped inside, that sideways glance she always gave before she said anything worth hearing. She sat on the edge of the mattress, close enough for heat to find its way between them. Then the talk started—how Rachael’s seeing someone younger, how she wants to know how to keep it going, keep it interesting. Everly’s questions came fast, sharper with each answer, each small detail. Finally, nothing left to circle around: the girl is Everly. Rachael just wanted an excuse to get close. Silence thickened. Everly studied her, mouth tightening into something between a dare and a decision. "You should’ve said it plain," she said. Rachael exhaled, half a laugh. "Yeah." They met halfway, tongues hungry, hands already under fabric. Hard kiss. Hungry. No more pretense.