âSo I did some research,â Kara said without preamble, plowing into her apartment with a purpose. Kara turned around, dropping her purse on Lenaâs counter and her coat on the chair like she was here to stay.
Lena sighed. She had spilled every dark thought to Kara three nights ago, the sinking boat analogy coming out at the bottom of the whiskey bottle as she yelled and cried about every lie and every secret and Kara stood there and took it. She closed the door reluctantly as Kara twisted her lips, searching for the words. âResearch,â Lena prompted, not particularly in the mood but knowing Kara wouldnât leave til she was done.
âYou said our friendship was a boat that had sunk,â Kara said flatly, and Lena bit down on her tongue before nodding. âFine,â Kara said, with a finality that shocked Lena.
âYouâre giving up?â Lena asked, scoffing, her heartâs final few shreds falling apart and fluttering away. She could feel herself shaking, feel herself about to break, because if there was one thing, one senseless thing she counted on, it was Kara fighting âjust like that.â Lena swallowed. âFine then, see if I carââ
âYou know what other boat sunk?â Kara spoke over her, eyes fixed on Lenaâs, determined and a little red. âThe Merrimack.â
âThe Merrimack,â Lena repeated, deadpan. âThe ironclad in the Civil War, of that famous first ironclad battle? That Merrimack? The one that ended its battle in a stalemate?â
âThat Merrimack,â Kara confirmed. âIt started its life as a Union ship, did you know? It got captured and the Union sunk it to prevent it from being used by the Confederates.â Lena chewed her lip, waiting. âBut the Confederacy raised it,â Kara continued, her voice softer. âIt was one of the largest ships in the Union navy, and even when the Union set it on fire, the Confederacy saved the hull. They rebuilt the ship with a steam powered engine and iron armor. They changed the way naval battles were fought, because they didnât give up.â
Lena huffed against the unexpected lump in her throat. âYouâre comparing our friendship to a war vessel used to fight for slavery? Apt.â
Karaâs jaw clenched, slightly, but she rolled her eyes. âI wrote an editorial last year about the true purpose of secession in 1860, Lena, try again. Iâm drawing a parallel. Itâs a literary device writers use sometimes to get a point across.â Despite herself, Lena snorted. It was a tiny laugh, but Kara smiled wide at her success before biting it back contritely, fixing Lena with that halfway-to-puppy-dog eyes expression Lena was always a sucker for.
Damn her best friend sometimes. âItâs still a bad metaphor,â Lena said petulantly, her heartâs shredded pieces moving around hopefully, moving to get them glasses of water.
âWell, duh,â Kara said, following Lena to the counter, looking like she wasnât going anywhere, not until Lena smiled again, and it was familiar and made Lenaâs shredded heart whisper try, try, try. âNothingâs gonna compare to you. To us. But I had to start somewhere.â