demi/selena - 5 times Demi Lovato ran away from home and 1 time she didn't (oneshot)
Title: 5 Times Demi Lovato Ran Away from Home and 1 Time She Didn't
Character/Pairing: Demi, Demi/Selena (femslash)
Summary: So she took one shaky step and found that the next one was easier.
Rating: PG-13, I guess
Word Count: ~4,500
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is entirely fictitious.
i.
Demi was five years old and had no desire to take a bath.
She was enjoying the cooling of the summer heat as the day faded into evening, the sun just beginning its descent down the sky. Running in circles on the sidewalk, she shrieked, laughed and sang with the other kids in the neighborhood, her tiny feet making small thuds on the pavement, hair twirling all around her, fanning out, her glasses slipping slightly down her nose.
And then she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, halting her movements, and she blinked a few times to stop the world from spinning. Demi looked up at her mom who smiled at her, saying, “It’s time to come inside. It’s getting late and you need a bath.”
Sticking out her bottom lip as far as it would go, Demi tried to look as sad as possible. “Please, I want to play some more.”
“Fine,” her mother sighed, running a hand over the tangled hair on the top of her daughter’s head, “I’ll run the water and get you in a few minutes.”
“Okay,” Demi nodded, already hating this idea. She watched her mother begin to stroll into the apartment building and quickly turned around, seeing all the other kids race across the healthy summer grass, playing tag and tripping over their own feet.
She didn’t even think she was dirty, and she had bathed three days ago anyway. So she took one shaky step and found that the next one was easier. And before she even knew it, she was walking down the street, alone, determined that this would work.
She could easily live in the park, sleep with her legs curled up to her chest on the covered slide and play all day long. It was perfect, the kind of life that was just what a rebellious five year old would dream about. It wasn’t until she turned a corner that she realized she wasn’t exactly sure where she was or how to get to the playground.
But no, she couldn’t turn back, so Demi took a deep breath and concentrated on walking, looking down at her feet, at the familiar pink shoes with sparkly white laces that her mother had chosen for her. She hated these shoes. Her feet felt like they were suffocating in the close confines, and her mom always tied them too tight. Plus, they were pink. Which was an ugly color, if you asked her.
But her mother didn’t. She just laughed out loud when Demi picked a pair of light blue and green sneakers, prying them out of her daughter’s hands and placing them back on the shelf of the too expensive children’s shoe store, saying something about how they weren’t pageant girl shoes.
And as Demi thought of pageants, how she hated being dressed up and told what to do and forced to smile, she became steadier as she walked farther and farther away from her mother and her older sister (whom she decided she would miss an awful lot). The only part she’d miss about pageants would be getting to stand up on stage, everyone looking at her, while she sang her heart out, trying to be as good as she could be. Hearing everyone applaud and seeing the judges smile. Yes, Demi would definitely miss that part.
But she could sing as she sat on the swings, so it was okay.
When her mother finally found Demi she had tears pooling in her eyes,and she looked out of breath. And when she asked what in the world Demi was doing, Demi denied running away, denied not wanting to take a bath, denied remembering her mother telling her anything about washing up. She just told her she wanted to play in park.
She was grounded for a week.
ii.
Demi wanted to go to the Barney auditions more than anything. And when her mother told her it was a great idea, Demi grinned widely, showing all of her pearly white teeth. That night her mother cooked spaghetti and even prepared homemade tomato sauce. Demi felt so happy she could barely sit still in her chair, swinging her legs back and forth, talking at a rapid pace with her mouth full.
It was the day before the audition when her mother announced that she couldn’t take Demi because she had a meeting with a cheerleading director about Demi joining the squad. Apparently it was very exclusive and expensive and her mom said that the Barney thing was a long shot; there would be tons of kids there.
But Demi didn’t care. It was the only thing she wanted, it was the thing she prayed for every night when her mother switched off her bedroom light and she couldn’t fall asleep because it was only eight o’clock, and Demi liked to stay up until eight-thirty.
“Mom, you said I could go!” Demi yelled at her mother, placing her hands on her hips and stomping her foot for emphasis, much like she’d seen Dallas and girls on television do from time to time.
“I’m sorry. I’ve changed my mind.” Her mother crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her daughter sternly, her lips drawn into a thin, straight line.
“But it isn’t fair!”
“Life isn’t fair.”
“Mom!” Demi shouted loudly, feeling a slight burn at the base of her throat.
When her mother just glared at her for a moment and turned around, leaving to prepare dinner, muttering that she couldn’t deal with this right now, Demi curled her hands into fists and turned sharply in the opposite direction, hearing a loud squeak as the rubber of her shoes pivoted on the tile. Demi grabbed her jean jacket out of the closet, stranding on her tip-toes and jumping to get it off the hanger, and opened the front door slowly, trying to be as quiet as she could be. And when she stepped outside, she slammed the door behind her, feeling powerful.
This time Demi knew where she was going as she ran across the long, damp grass, her heart heaving in her chest, tears streaking down her face.
She was going anywhere that her mother wasn’t.
When her mother found Demi half an hour later, sitting calmly on a park bench, she apologized for getting so angry and agreed to take her to the audition, hugging Demi tightly and whispering into her ear that she was still in trouble for leaving without permission.
The next day as they waited, Demi fidgeted, feeling anxious, wishing she had someone to talk to. Turning her head slowly, she spotted a girl with dark hair that curled the way Demi always wished hers would. The girl was alone, standing next to her mom and trying not to bite her fingernails. Demi looked up at her own mom and asked for her crayons and coloring book.
“Here.” her mother handed them to her, smiling down at her daughter, running a hand through her hair impatiently. She really hated waiting.
“Thanks.” Demi returned the grin, feeling like this was the right thing to do. Taking a few steps, Demi tapped the girl on the shoulder lightly, “Hey, I’m Demi.”
“Hi, my name’s Selena,” the girl replied, her voice a little shaky.
“Do you want to color with me?” Demi asked, holding out the thick book filled with pages of Disney characters just waiting to be painted with bold colors, with rough crayon lines drawn erratically. She felt her heart pick up for a second, worried Selena would tell her no, like her new neighbor had a few weeks ago.
“Sure.” Selena smiled instantly, looking up at her mother for approval, who nodded before introducing herself to Demi’s mom.
Demi carefully took off her jean jacket, set it on the ground and sat down on half of it. “Here, you can sit,” Demi said, tucking some hair behind her ear.
“Thank you,” Selena got down and set down the book between them, opening it up to a random page and lifting the small cardboard tab off the crayon box, offering it to Demi, who picked a dark green one. “Hey, green’s my favorite color.”
“Really? What do you think of pink?”
Selena scrunched up her eyebrows and shook her head vigorously, “I don’t really like it.”
“Me either,” Demi declared.
She was really glad that she ran away, even if it was a one in a million chance that she would get to be on Barney, because she met Selena. The only other girl her age she’d ever known who didn’t like the color pink.
iii.
Demi hated middle school.
She hated how big her locker seemed, how everything got so lost in its vast space easily. She despised the crowded halls filled with people pushing and shoving, causing her to be late to math class every day. Mostly she hated that Selena wasn’t there and that no one else wanted to be her friend.
As she sat down at the end of one of the lunch tables, Demi opened the brown paper bag holding her food and took out her sandwich. She saw a group of girls passing by. On reflex, she bent her head down, staring at the fake wooden surface of the table, trying to find it fascinating. The girls marched by without so much as looking at her, and Demi sighed in relief.
She opened up her notebook and looked over some lyrics she had written the period before, scratching a few lines out, when she heard the familiar sound of throats clearing, and she looked up.
She wished she hadn’t.
“What’cha doing?” A girl with bright blonde hair snickered in a thick Texas accent, looking at her friends, a knowing smirk plastered on her face.
“N-nothing.”
The girl snatched Demi’s notebook up quickly, taking it easily as Demi’s hand landed flat on the table, too late. The girl’s eyes raked over the lyrics, and she raised her eyebrows, letting out a little laugh, and then she handed the notebook to her friends so they could appraise Demi’s work too.
“So, what is this? A song?” A girl with hair the same color as Selena’s asked, her eyes sparkling in a way that made Demi’s stomach turn over.
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Oh. Okay then.” The girl took the paper between her fingers and ripped it down the middle. “Oops.” She tossed it in a trash can behind her.
“See you later weirdo,” The blonde grinned widely, lacing her arms through her friends’, forming a chain, stalking off like they were the coolest people in the entire world.
Demi fought tears brewing in her eyes and chucked her lunch into the same trash can, seeing her food cover the ripped pages of her notebook, along with some chocolate milk and ketchup it had already been splashed in.
She made a point of straightening her back and walking slowly, naturally, out of the lunchroom and down the hall as if everything was alright. Demi was a little surprised by how simple it was to just walk out of school, and when the building was out of sight, she sat down on the curb, resting her head in her hands.
She didn’t cry, just sat there until she felt okay enough to take out her new cell phone- her first one ever- and call Selena. Demi heard the phone ring a few times before her best friend answered.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Sel? It’s me. Can your mom pick me up?” Demi sniffled a little and looked at the ground to stop the sun from blinding her. She felt better just being able to hear Selena’s voice.
“What happened?” Concern flooded the older girl’s tone and Demi knew she was thinking about the times when Demi had called her after school, asking her to come over. But she’d never called in the middle of the day before. Not ever.
“Please, just come,” Demi blinked a few times, feeling wetness on her eyelashes that she had to fight back. “I’ll tell you later.”
The line was silent for a minute and worry shot through Demi, she felt herself tense up, wondering if maybe Selena wouldn’t be there for her anymore, and if maybe she wasn’t coming to save her. “Sure, we’ll be there soon.” Selena said firmly, warmly. “Where are you?”
“Just outside my school.”
“Okay.”
As she hung up the phone and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans, Demi breathed in deeply.
She couldn’t go home to her mom, her (step)dad, and her sisters. She couldn’t take being told to toughen up, that it would all go away if she could just stand up for herself. She didn’t want to hear that the other girls were just jealous. Jealous of what, exactly? That she had no friends, that she had been on a children’s program that everyone in her school mocked now because they were too old and too cool for it?
All she wanted to do was live with Selena, have Selena’s mom hug her and make her hot chocolate and tell jokes that were really corny, but always made her laugh anyway. She wished she could eat the burritos that Selena’s step-dad cooked to perfection, tasting better each time she had them.
And she loved the way Selena hugged her tightly, pressing their bodies together so they were almost one person. It felt that way sometimes, like they were Demi and Selena, Selena and Demi, you couldn’t have one without the other.
iv.
When Demi suggested home-schooling her mother had a cow. Acting like Demi was such a burden, such a trouble child. Her mom just couldn’t understand; she had loved school, and she had been popular. She had had friends. Her experience was the exact opposite of Demi’s.
Her mother told her a teacher would cost a lot of money, that it would just be a hassle, that she could take a few more years of it; it really wasn’t that much time anyway. It would be over before she knew it.
Demi stalked up to her room and grabbed an empty backpack, shoveling piles of clothes into it: jeans, t-shirts, pajamas, anything that would fit. She threw in her make-up, her hairbrush and toothbrush. She chose her favorite CDs and her ipod, carefully placing them on top, and zipped it up.
This time running away was going to work. She wasn’t going to let Selena’s mom call her mother, tell her that she was at their house and that she should pick Demi up later. That Demi had missed the end of the school day and her mother should speak to her about it. She wouldn’t let it be like last time.
Demi took out her phone and dialed the number she had spent ten minutes memorizing when Selena programmed it into her phone. It wasn’t that she needed to be able to recall Selena’s cell number at the drop of a hat; Demi knew all she had to do was look through her contacts and pick Selena’s name. But she liked knowing the numbers, knowing she could tell them to anyone who asked without even blinking. It was nice, and sometimes when she couldn’t fall asleep, she recited them in her head.
When Selena picked up the phone all Demi did was inhale and Selena said that she’d have her mom come and pick her up right away. Demi told Mrs. Gomez that her mom knew she was staying with them for the weekend, that it was perfectly fine. Everything was just fine. Selena knotted her fingers through Demi’s and gently bumped their knees together, reassuring her that everything really would be fine soon enough.
*
“Home schooling is the best. I’m sure if you asked my mom she could really convince your parents that it’s a great idea.” Selena nodded before taking a big bite of the last pickle, “And it would give you more time for singing and acting lessons and stuff.”
“Yeah?” Demi asked skeptically. She knew her mother would like that part of the argument.
“Definitely.” Selena handed over the pickle, and Demi bit off a large mouthful, loving the crunchy sound and the feel juice running down her chin.
Selena crawled over her bed a little and wrapped her arms around Demi, resting her head on her best friend’s shoulder. The room was really quiet all of the sudden, and the sound of her chewing the last piece of pickle resounded in Demi’s ears and she wondered if it was that loud to Selena too. The silence was comfortable though, so Demi rested her head on Selena’s, wrapping one arm around her best friend’s waist, feeling a little of her warm skin where her shirt had scrunched up a bit.
The change in the room was quick, almost instantaneous, the air was charged with something Demi couldn’t quite identify and her heart felt like it was about to burst from beating so fast, so out of tune with the rest of her.
“Hey, Demi?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you ever wonder what it’s like to kiss someone?” Selena asked softly, her voice not quite a whisper. They had talked before about what they hoped their first kisses would be like.
“Yeah.” Demi removed her hand from Selena’s waist and ran it through her hair, feeling the light resistance of tangles that had gathered at the ends and tugged her fingers through them gently.
“Have a lot of people at your school had their first kisses already?”
“I think so.” Demi bit her lip, not really knowing.
“A lot of people I know have too.” Selena moved her head a little, so Demi did too. And then Selena was looking at her, her eyes roaming over Demi’s face, curious, her cheeks were faintly pink. “I kind of want to get it over with.”
“Oh.” Demi said as she broke all physical contact with her best friend, crossing her legs and grabbing some of the light cotton sheets, twisting them in her fingers and looking down.
“Don’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Demi felt a lump in her throat and fire on her cheeks; she was sure that she was blushing so much more than her best friend had been. “But I don’t know anyone who wants to kiss me.”
Selena grew really quiet, and Demi looked up at her, seeing her carefully thinking through what she was going to say next, clearly trying a few options in her head, shaking it back and forth slightly and biting her lip a little when they didn’t seem right.
She smiled when she finally decided how to respond. “I do.”
Demi was so surprised she felt her mouth fall open. “Who?”
Selena blushed furiously before placing her hands gently on Demi’s shoulders, feather-light, like they almost weren’t there. “Me.”
And Selena kissed her softly, quickly, her lips tasting kind of like pickle juice and salt, and then she pulled away, hands gripping Demi’s shoulders a little harder now.
Selena’s mom was able to convince Demi’s that home schooling was for the best.
And Demi was happier than she had ever been. Partly because of that.
v.
Selena was moving to Los Angeles. Demi wasn’t.
That morning Selena had gotten a call from Disney, saying they wanted her to come out, they had some stuff they thought she could do. The open casting call had worked wonders for her best friend. But it was two o’clock and as far as Demi was convinced, she wasn’t going anywhere.
So she got up from her kitchen table, stopped staring at the phone and walked to Selena’s house, knowing she should be happy for her best friend. She wasn’t jealous, really, just crushed. Not because Disney didn’t want her, but because Selena would be so far away, too far away. She’d have to look up the miles and hours online, add those numbers to her late night repertoire.
It was a long walk and Demi thought about a lot of things: how Selena deserved this more than anyone else, how it would probably kill her having her best friend so far away, how she had kissed a few boys since that first one with Selena and how none of those boys had really left much of an impression. She wondered if that was normal.
When she finally arrived at Selena’s house she was kind of tired and her feet were a little sore, but she rang the doorbell with resolve and when Selena answered it a minute later, a wide smile plastered over her face, Demi knew what she had to do.
“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming,” Selena squealed, opening the door and moving aside as Demi came in.
“I’m so happy for you!” Demi pulled the older girl into a tight hug and rubbed circles into Selena’s back.
When they broke apart after what seemed like ages, Selena tucked some hair behind her ear and looked down at the ground, asking, “Did you hear anything?”
“No.” Demi took a deep breath, “but I’m coming with you.”
“Really? Your mom said that?” Hope flooded Selena’s chocolate eyes and they glistened with a happy wetness, her smile growing even wider, if that was even possible.
“No. But I am,” Demi said resolutely. And she leaned over, placing a kiss on Selena’s lips, tasting butter and popcorn this time, but it gave her the same butterflies the first one had. She grabbed Selena’s wrist and dragged her up the stairs. “I can help you pack.”
“Okay,” Selena murmured.
Demi’s mom got a call from Disney that evening. Yelled at Demi for leaving without telling her, and told her they were moving to Los Angeles and that they would live with Selena and Mrs. Gomez for a little while.
Demi unconsciously wiped at her mouth when her mom mentioned sharing a room with Selena.
vi.
Touring was fantastic, filming Camp Rock 2 was great, but being back with Selena was the best.
It had taken a long time for Demi to realize how messed up their relationship was. That normal best friends didn’t practice make-out techniques on each other and then date boys they like well enough, but didn’t really want to use such finely honed techniques on. Denial was apparently one thing Demi was good at, even if she didn’t know it.
The whole thing had inevitably caused a riff between them, and Demi was forced to see exactly how fucked up everything was and that maybe she didn’t want to be making-out with boys at all. But that she really wanted to date her best friend, who was the best kisser. Ever. If you asked her.
Everything had worked out.
Demi knotted her hands in Selena’s soft hair, tangling their legs together even more, slipping her tongue into her girlfriend’s mouth. Selena’s hands slipped under the soft cotton of her shirt, fingers running lightly over her stomach, causing Demi to press her hips into Selena’s, who hummed a little into Demi’s mouth.
Demi rolled over so she was on top of Selena and kissed down her girlfriend’s jaw, down her neck, sucking on her pulse point and hearing Selena moan a little, racking her nails over Demi’s back.
Then Demi heard the door to her room open and looked up at her mother’s shocked expression, hands having flown to her mouth, eyes wide and bulging.
Rolling off Selena, Demi couldn’t believe she had forgotten to lock the door. She’s guessing she can say good-bye to having sleepovers ever again. Selena mumbles something about leaving, grabs her jacket and purse from the floor, and kisses Demi lightly on the cheek, saying she’ll call later and moves past Demi’s mom who is glaring at Selena like she’s the incarnation evil.
Demi kind of hates how Selena already told her parents, who were both surprised and kind of uncomfortable around Demi for about two weeks, but had accepted it and were really nice about the whole thing. Who, for reasons Demi’s not really sure about, continued to allow her to sleepover at their house. While here she is, looking at her mom who is staring at her, eyes dark with rage, chest heaving up and down slightly.
“Sorry I didn’t tell you,” Demi whispers, looking down at the ground and breathing in deeply, trying to steady herself.
“Well,” her mother’s voice is sharp, “you won’t be seeing her again.”
“What?” Demi chokes out, feeling her heart skip a beat. Her legs feel really wobbly and she shakes her head a little, trying to focus on something. She chooses a miniscule crack in the paint behind her mother’s head.
“Clearly she is a corrupting influence,” her mother spits out, hate laced into her tone.
“Mom.” Demi wants her voice to sound louder, steadier, but it comes out strangled instead. “I love her.”
Her mother snorts at this, shaking her head furiously back and forth. “No. You aren’t allowed to love her. We do not allow such sinful behavior in this family.”
“God, you’re so ignorant.”
“Don’t-“
“No, mom. I love her, and just because you say I can’t, doesn’t make it not true.” Demi feels herself getting stronger, the shock of being found making out with her best friend by her mother wearing off and being replaced with anger.
But her mother simply states, “You need to cool down. We will discuss the rules later.” Then slams the door and walks quietly to her bedroom to call her husband.
Demi sits on her bed for a moment, resting her head in her hands, hoping her blood will start circulating normally again. But it only takes her a second to get back up, grab a suitcase to fill up with clothes, make-up, notebooks filled with songs about Selena, anything she might need.
Thirty minutes later she’s in a cab that’s pulled up to Selena’s driveway. Demi pays the cabdriver, takes her suitcase and rings the doorbell. When Selena’s mom answers she doesn’t ask what happened, just pulls Demi into a hug and tells her she can stay in the guest bedroom.
After unpacking, she hears a knock on the door and looks up when it opens slightly, Selena sticking her head in a little. “Hey?” She asks, studying her girlfriend’s face.
“Hey,” Demi whispers, sitting back on her legs and running a hand over her eyes. The floor is hard, but she doesn’t have the energy to get up and sit on the bed.
“Can I come in?”
Demi just nods, feeling tears pooling behind her eyes, knowing that they’re going to fall. When Selena sits down next to her, wrapping her arms around Demi and whispering that she loves her into Demi’s ear she knows this time she didn’t run away.
She knows you can’t have Demi without Selena.
She knows she finally had the courage to run home.
Character/Pairing: Demi, Demi/Selena (femslash)
Summary: So she took one shaky step and found that the next one was easier.
Rating: PG-13, I guess
Word Count: ~4,500
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is entirely fictitious.
i.
Demi was five years old and had no desire to take a bath.
She was enjoying the cooling of the summer heat as the day faded into evening, the sun just beginning its descent down the sky. Running in circles on the sidewalk, she shrieked, laughed and sang with the other kids in the neighborhood, her tiny feet making small thuds on the pavement, hair twirling all around her, fanning out, her glasses slipping slightly down her nose.
And then she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, halting her movements, and she blinked a few times to stop the world from spinning. Demi looked up at her mom who smiled at her, saying, “It’s time to come inside. It’s getting late and you need a bath.”
Sticking out her bottom lip as far as it would go, Demi tried to look as sad as possible. “Please, I want to play some more.”
“Fine,” her mother sighed, running a hand over the tangled hair on the top of her daughter’s head, “I’ll run the water and get you in a few minutes.”
“Okay,” Demi nodded, already hating this idea. She watched her mother begin to stroll into the apartment building and quickly turned around, seeing all the other kids race across the healthy summer grass, playing tag and tripping over their own feet.
She didn’t even think she was dirty, and she had bathed three days ago anyway. So she took one shaky step and found that the next one was easier. And before she even knew it, she was walking down the street, alone, determined that this would work.
She could easily live in the park, sleep with her legs curled up to her chest on the covered slide and play all day long. It was perfect, the kind of life that was just what a rebellious five year old would dream about. It wasn’t until she turned a corner that she realized she wasn’t exactly sure where she was or how to get to the playground.
But no, she couldn’t turn back, so Demi took a deep breath and concentrated on walking, looking down at her feet, at the familiar pink shoes with sparkly white laces that her mother had chosen for her. She hated these shoes. Her feet felt like they were suffocating in the close confines, and her mom always tied them too tight. Plus, they were pink. Which was an ugly color, if you asked her.
But her mother didn’t. She just laughed out loud when Demi picked a pair of light blue and green sneakers, prying them out of her daughter’s hands and placing them back on the shelf of the too expensive children’s shoe store, saying something about how they weren’t pageant girl shoes.
And as Demi thought of pageants, how she hated being dressed up and told what to do and forced to smile, she became steadier as she walked farther and farther away from her mother and her older sister (whom she decided she would miss an awful lot). The only part she’d miss about pageants would be getting to stand up on stage, everyone looking at her, while she sang her heart out, trying to be as good as she could be. Hearing everyone applaud and seeing the judges smile. Yes, Demi would definitely miss that part.
But she could sing as she sat on the swings, so it was okay.
When her mother finally found Demi she had tears pooling in her eyes,and she looked out of breath. And when she asked what in the world Demi was doing, Demi denied running away, denied not wanting to take a bath, denied remembering her mother telling her anything about washing up. She just told her she wanted to play in park.
She was grounded for a week.
ii.
Demi wanted to go to the Barney auditions more than anything. And when her mother told her it was a great idea, Demi grinned widely, showing all of her pearly white teeth. That night her mother cooked spaghetti and even prepared homemade tomato sauce. Demi felt so happy she could barely sit still in her chair, swinging her legs back and forth, talking at a rapid pace with her mouth full.
It was the day before the audition when her mother announced that she couldn’t take Demi because she had a meeting with a cheerleading director about Demi joining the squad. Apparently it was very exclusive and expensive and her mom said that the Barney thing was a long shot; there would be tons of kids there.
But Demi didn’t care. It was the only thing she wanted, it was the thing she prayed for every night when her mother switched off her bedroom light and she couldn’t fall asleep because it was only eight o’clock, and Demi liked to stay up until eight-thirty.
“Mom, you said I could go!” Demi yelled at her mother, placing her hands on her hips and stomping her foot for emphasis, much like she’d seen Dallas and girls on television do from time to time.
“I’m sorry. I’ve changed my mind.” Her mother crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her daughter sternly, her lips drawn into a thin, straight line.
“But it isn’t fair!”
“Life isn’t fair.”
“Mom!” Demi shouted loudly, feeling a slight burn at the base of her throat.
When her mother just glared at her for a moment and turned around, leaving to prepare dinner, muttering that she couldn’t deal with this right now, Demi curled her hands into fists and turned sharply in the opposite direction, hearing a loud squeak as the rubber of her shoes pivoted on the tile. Demi grabbed her jean jacket out of the closet, stranding on her tip-toes and jumping to get it off the hanger, and opened the front door slowly, trying to be as quiet as she could be. And when she stepped outside, she slammed the door behind her, feeling powerful.
This time Demi knew where she was going as she ran across the long, damp grass, her heart heaving in her chest, tears streaking down her face.
She was going anywhere that her mother wasn’t.
When her mother found Demi half an hour later, sitting calmly on a park bench, she apologized for getting so angry and agreed to take her to the audition, hugging Demi tightly and whispering into her ear that she was still in trouble for leaving without permission.
The next day as they waited, Demi fidgeted, feeling anxious, wishing she had someone to talk to. Turning her head slowly, she spotted a girl with dark hair that curled the way Demi always wished hers would. The girl was alone, standing next to her mom and trying not to bite her fingernails. Demi looked up at her own mom and asked for her crayons and coloring book.
“Here.” her mother handed them to her, smiling down at her daughter, running a hand through her hair impatiently. She really hated waiting.
“Thanks.” Demi returned the grin, feeling like this was the right thing to do. Taking a few steps, Demi tapped the girl on the shoulder lightly, “Hey, I’m Demi.”
“Hi, my name’s Selena,” the girl replied, her voice a little shaky.
“Do you want to color with me?” Demi asked, holding out the thick book filled with pages of Disney characters just waiting to be painted with bold colors, with rough crayon lines drawn erratically. She felt her heart pick up for a second, worried Selena would tell her no, like her new neighbor had a few weeks ago.
“Sure.” Selena smiled instantly, looking up at her mother for approval, who nodded before introducing herself to Demi’s mom.
Demi carefully took off her jean jacket, set it on the ground and sat down on half of it. “Here, you can sit,” Demi said, tucking some hair behind her ear.
“Thank you,” Selena got down and set down the book between them, opening it up to a random page and lifting the small cardboard tab off the crayon box, offering it to Demi, who picked a dark green one. “Hey, green’s my favorite color.”
“Really? What do you think of pink?”
Selena scrunched up her eyebrows and shook her head vigorously, “I don’t really like it.”
“Me either,” Demi declared.
She was really glad that she ran away, even if it was a one in a million chance that she would get to be on Barney, because she met Selena. The only other girl her age she’d ever known who didn’t like the color pink.
iii.
Demi hated middle school.
She hated how big her locker seemed, how everything got so lost in its vast space easily. She despised the crowded halls filled with people pushing and shoving, causing her to be late to math class every day. Mostly she hated that Selena wasn’t there and that no one else wanted to be her friend.
As she sat down at the end of one of the lunch tables, Demi opened the brown paper bag holding her food and took out her sandwich. She saw a group of girls passing by. On reflex, she bent her head down, staring at the fake wooden surface of the table, trying to find it fascinating. The girls marched by without so much as looking at her, and Demi sighed in relief.
She opened up her notebook and looked over some lyrics she had written the period before, scratching a few lines out, when she heard the familiar sound of throats clearing, and she looked up.
She wished she hadn’t.
“What’cha doing?” A girl with bright blonde hair snickered in a thick Texas accent, looking at her friends, a knowing smirk plastered on her face.
“N-nothing.”
The girl snatched Demi’s notebook up quickly, taking it easily as Demi’s hand landed flat on the table, too late. The girl’s eyes raked over the lyrics, and she raised her eyebrows, letting out a little laugh, and then she handed the notebook to her friends so they could appraise Demi’s work too.
“So, what is this? A song?” A girl with hair the same color as Selena’s asked, her eyes sparkling in a way that made Demi’s stomach turn over.
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Oh. Okay then.” The girl took the paper between her fingers and ripped it down the middle. “Oops.” She tossed it in a trash can behind her.
“See you later weirdo,” The blonde grinned widely, lacing her arms through her friends’, forming a chain, stalking off like they were the coolest people in the entire world.
Demi fought tears brewing in her eyes and chucked her lunch into the same trash can, seeing her food cover the ripped pages of her notebook, along with some chocolate milk and ketchup it had already been splashed in.
She made a point of straightening her back and walking slowly, naturally, out of the lunchroom and down the hall as if everything was alright. Demi was a little surprised by how simple it was to just walk out of school, and when the building was out of sight, she sat down on the curb, resting her head in her hands.
She didn’t cry, just sat there until she felt okay enough to take out her new cell phone- her first one ever- and call Selena. Demi heard the phone ring a few times before her best friend answered.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Sel? It’s me. Can your mom pick me up?” Demi sniffled a little and looked at the ground to stop the sun from blinding her. She felt better just being able to hear Selena’s voice.
“What happened?” Concern flooded the older girl’s tone and Demi knew she was thinking about the times when Demi had called her after school, asking her to come over. But she’d never called in the middle of the day before. Not ever.
“Please, just come,” Demi blinked a few times, feeling wetness on her eyelashes that she had to fight back. “I’ll tell you later.”
The line was silent for a minute and worry shot through Demi, she felt herself tense up, wondering if maybe Selena wouldn’t be there for her anymore, and if maybe she wasn’t coming to save her. “Sure, we’ll be there soon.” Selena said firmly, warmly. “Where are you?”
“Just outside my school.”
“Okay.”
As she hung up the phone and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans, Demi breathed in deeply.
She couldn’t go home to her mom, her (step)dad, and her sisters. She couldn’t take being told to toughen up, that it would all go away if she could just stand up for herself. She didn’t want to hear that the other girls were just jealous. Jealous of what, exactly? That she had no friends, that she had been on a children’s program that everyone in her school mocked now because they were too old and too cool for it?
All she wanted to do was live with Selena, have Selena’s mom hug her and make her hot chocolate and tell jokes that were really corny, but always made her laugh anyway. She wished she could eat the burritos that Selena’s step-dad cooked to perfection, tasting better each time she had them.
And she loved the way Selena hugged her tightly, pressing their bodies together so they were almost one person. It felt that way sometimes, like they were Demi and Selena, Selena and Demi, you couldn’t have one without the other.
iv.
When Demi suggested home-schooling her mother had a cow. Acting like Demi was such a burden, such a trouble child. Her mom just couldn’t understand; she had loved school, and she had been popular. She had had friends. Her experience was the exact opposite of Demi’s.
Her mother told her a teacher would cost a lot of money, that it would just be a hassle, that she could take a few more years of it; it really wasn’t that much time anyway. It would be over before she knew it.
Demi stalked up to her room and grabbed an empty backpack, shoveling piles of clothes into it: jeans, t-shirts, pajamas, anything that would fit. She threw in her make-up, her hairbrush and toothbrush. She chose her favorite CDs and her ipod, carefully placing them on top, and zipped it up.
This time running away was going to work. She wasn’t going to let Selena’s mom call her mother, tell her that she was at their house and that she should pick Demi up later. That Demi had missed the end of the school day and her mother should speak to her about it. She wouldn’t let it be like last time.
Demi took out her phone and dialed the number she had spent ten minutes memorizing when Selena programmed it into her phone. It wasn’t that she needed to be able to recall Selena’s cell number at the drop of a hat; Demi knew all she had to do was look through her contacts and pick Selena’s name. But she liked knowing the numbers, knowing she could tell them to anyone who asked without even blinking. It was nice, and sometimes when she couldn’t fall asleep, she recited them in her head.
When Selena picked up the phone all Demi did was inhale and Selena said that she’d have her mom come and pick her up right away. Demi told Mrs. Gomez that her mom knew she was staying with them for the weekend, that it was perfectly fine. Everything was just fine. Selena knotted her fingers through Demi’s and gently bumped their knees together, reassuring her that everything really would be fine soon enough.
*
“Home schooling is the best. I’m sure if you asked my mom she could really convince your parents that it’s a great idea.” Selena nodded before taking a big bite of the last pickle, “And it would give you more time for singing and acting lessons and stuff.”
“Yeah?” Demi asked skeptically. She knew her mother would like that part of the argument.
“Definitely.” Selena handed over the pickle, and Demi bit off a large mouthful, loving the crunchy sound and the feel juice running down her chin.
Selena crawled over her bed a little and wrapped her arms around Demi, resting her head on her best friend’s shoulder. The room was really quiet all of the sudden, and the sound of her chewing the last piece of pickle resounded in Demi’s ears and she wondered if it was that loud to Selena too. The silence was comfortable though, so Demi rested her head on Selena’s, wrapping one arm around her best friend’s waist, feeling a little of her warm skin where her shirt had scrunched up a bit.
The change in the room was quick, almost instantaneous, the air was charged with something Demi couldn’t quite identify and her heart felt like it was about to burst from beating so fast, so out of tune with the rest of her.
“Hey, Demi?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you ever wonder what it’s like to kiss someone?” Selena asked softly, her voice not quite a whisper. They had talked before about what they hoped their first kisses would be like.
“Yeah.” Demi removed her hand from Selena’s waist and ran it through her hair, feeling the light resistance of tangles that had gathered at the ends and tugged her fingers through them gently.
“Have a lot of people at your school had their first kisses already?”
“I think so.” Demi bit her lip, not really knowing.
“A lot of people I know have too.” Selena moved her head a little, so Demi did too. And then Selena was looking at her, her eyes roaming over Demi’s face, curious, her cheeks were faintly pink. “I kind of want to get it over with.”
“Oh.” Demi said as she broke all physical contact with her best friend, crossing her legs and grabbing some of the light cotton sheets, twisting them in her fingers and looking down.
“Don’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Demi felt a lump in her throat and fire on her cheeks; she was sure that she was blushing so much more than her best friend had been. “But I don’t know anyone who wants to kiss me.”
Selena grew really quiet, and Demi looked up at her, seeing her carefully thinking through what she was going to say next, clearly trying a few options in her head, shaking it back and forth slightly and biting her lip a little when they didn’t seem right.
She smiled when she finally decided how to respond. “I do.”
Demi was so surprised she felt her mouth fall open. “Who?”
Selena blushed furiously before placing her hands gently on Demi’s shoulders, feather-light, like they almost weren’t there. “Me.”
And Selena kissed her softly, quickly, her lips tasting kind of like pickle juice and salt, and then she pulled away, hands gripping Demi’s shoulders a little harder now.
Selena’s mom was able to convince Demi’s that home schooling was for the best.
And Demi was happier than she had ever been. Partly because of that.
v.
Selena was moving to Los Angeles. Demi wasn’t.
That morning Selena had gotten a call from Disney, saying they wanted her to come out, they had some stuff they thought she could do. The open casting call had worked wonders for her best friend. But it was two o’clock and as far as Demi was convinced, she wasn’t going anywhere.
So she got up from her kitchen table, stopped staring at the phone and walked to Selena’s house, knowing she should be happy for her best friend. She wasn’t jealous, really, just crushed. Not because Disney didn’t want her, but because Selena would be so far away, too far away. She’d have to look up the miles and hours online, add those numbers to her late night repertoire.
It was a long walk and Demi thought about a lot of things: how Selena deserved this more than anyone else, how it would probably kill her having her best friend so far away, how she had kissed a few boys since that first one with Selena and how none of those boys had really left much of an impression. She wondered if that was normal.
When she finally arrived at Selena’s house she was kind of tired and her feet were a little sore, but she rang the doorbell with resolve and when Selena answered it a minute later, a wide smile plastered over her face, Demi knew what she had to do.
“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming,” Selena squealed, opening the door and moving aside as Demi came in.
“I’m so happy for you!” Demi pulled the older girl into a tight hug and rubbed circles into Selena’s back.
When they broke apart after what seemed like ages, Selena tucked some hair behind her ear and looked down at the ground, asking, “Did you hear anything?”
“No.” Demi took a deep breath, “but I’m coming with you.”
“Really? Your mom said that?” Hope flooded Selena’s chocolate eyes and they glistened with a happy wetness, her smile growing even wider, if that was even possible.
“No. But I am,” Demi said resolutely. And she leaned over, placing a kiss on Selena’s lips, tasting butter and popcorn this time, but it gave her the same butterflies the first one had. She grabbed Selena’s wrist and dragged her up the stairs. “I can help you pack.”
“Okay,” Selena murmured.
Demi’s mom got a call from Disney that evening. Yelled at Demi for leaving without telling her, and told her they were moving to Los Angeles and that they would live with Selena and Mrs. Gomez for a little while.
Demi unconsciously wiped at her mouth when her mom mentioned sharing a room with Selena.
vi.
Touring was fantastic, filming Camp Rock 2 was great, but being back with Selena was the best.
It had taken a long time for Demi to realize how messed up their relationship was. That normal best friends didn’t practice make-out techniques on each other and then date boys they like well enough, but didn’t really want to use such finely honed techniques on. Denial was apparently one thing Demi was good at, even if she didn’t know it.
The whole thing had inevitably caused a riff between them, and Demi was forced to see exactly how fucked up everything was and that maybe she didn’t want to be making-out with boys at all. But that she really wanted to date her best friend, who was the best kisser. Ever. If you asked her.
Everything had worked out.
Demi knotted her hands in Selena’s soft hair, tangling their legs together even more, slipping her tongue into her girlfriend’s mouth. Selena’s hands slipped under the soft cotton of her shirt, fingers running lightly over her stomach, causing Demi to press her hips into Selena’s, who hummed a little into Demi’s mouth.
Demi rolled over so she was on top of Selena and kissed down her girlfriend’s jaw, down her neck, sucking on her pulse point and hearing Selena moan a little, racking her nails over Demi’s back.
Then Demi heard the door to her room open and looked up at her mother’s shocked expression, hands having flown to her mouth, eyes wide and bulging.
Rolling off Selena, Demi couldn’t believe she had forgotten to lock the door. She’s guessing she can say good-bye to having sleepovers ever again. Selena mumbles something about leaving, grabs her jacket and purse from the floor, and kisses Demi lightly on the cheek, saying she’ll call later and moves past Demi’s mom who is glaring at Selena like she’s the incarnation evil.
Demi kind of hates how Selena already told her parents, who were both surprised and kind of uncomfortable around Demi for about two weeks, but had accepted it and were really nice about the whole thing. Who, for reasons Demi’s not really sure about, continued to allow her to sleepover at their house. While here she is, looking at her mom who is staring at her, eyes dark with rage, chest heaving up and down slightly.
“Sorry I didn’t tell you,” Demi whispers, looking down at the ground and breathing in deeply, trying to steady herself.
“Well,” her mother’s voice is sharp, “you won’t be seeing her again.”
“What?” Demi chokes out, feeling her heart skip a beat. Her legs feel really wobbly and she shakes her head a little, trying to focus on something. She chooses a miniscule crack in the paint behind her mother’s head.
“Clearly she is a corrupting influence,” her mother spits out, hate laced into her tone.
“Mom.” Demi wants her voice to sound louder, steadier, but it comes out strangled instead. “I love her.”
Her mother snorts at this, shaking her head furiously back and forth. “No. You aren’t allowed to love her. We do not allow such sinful behavior in this family.”
“God, you’re so ignorant.”
“Don’t-“
“No, mom. I love her, and just because you say I can’t, doesn’t make it not true.” Demi feels herself getting stronger, the shock of being found making out with her best friend by her mother wearing off and being replaced with anger.
But her mother simply states, “You need to cool down. We will discuss the rules later.” Then slams the door and walks quietly to her bedroom to call her husband.
Demi sits on her bed for a moment, resting her head in her hands, hoping her blood will start circulating normally again. But it only takes her a second to get back up, grab a suitcase to fill up with clothes, make-up, notebooks filled with songs about Selena, anything she might need.
Thirty minutes later she’s in a cab that’s pulled up to Selena’s driveway. Demi pays the cabdriver, takes her suitcase and rings the doorbell. When Selena’s mom answers she doesn’t ask what happened, just pulls Demi into a hug and tells her she can stay in the guest bedroom.
After unpacking, she hears a knock on the door and looks up when it opens slightly, Selena sticking her head in a little. “Hey?” She asks, studying her girlfriend’s face.
“Hey,” Demi whispers, sitting back on her legs and running a hand over her eyes. The floor is hard, but she doesn’t have the energy to get up and sit on the bed.
“Can I come in?”
Demi just nods, feeling tears pooling behind her eyes, knowing that they’re going to fall. When Selena sits down next to her, wrapping her arms around Demi and whispering that she loves her into Demi’s ear she knows this time she didn’t run away.
She knows you can’t have Demi without Selena.
She knows she finally had the courage to run home.