Back to school

Summer’s almost gone, uniforms still in the closet. Sanna and Bailey drag the old dresses out and step into them, tugging the fabric down. The moment Bailey drops her skirt, something switches. She turns toward Sanna, lower lip tucked between her teeth, and lets a shy giggle slip out. Her voice drops, barely above a whisper, and the tips of her fingers slide up Sanna’s thighs, slow enough to feel every inch. Another small, teasing laugh vibrates against Sanna’s ear as Bailey leans closer, squeezing her closer until their bare skin meets. Every half-step forward presses the front of the half-buttoned blouse against Sanna’s chest; heat races up Bailey’s neck while she keeps talking—so soft the words almost disappear between quick, nervous kisses along Sanna’s jaw. Laughter threads through each promise, and she keeps touching, tracing the elastic edge of Sanna’s underwear with bold little strokes that grow bolder, breath hitching every time the fabric stretches and snaps back.