Second Chance for Romance

Chapter 16

The next evening I was reading in my studio when Christy tapped on the doorframe. I closed the book and held my place with a finger.

“What’s up?” I said.

She shrugged. “I was next door by myself and thought you might like some company.”

“Sure, whatever.” I opened my book and picked up where I’d left off.

She slid into the empty chair. “Whatcha reading?”

I showed her the cover.

“Sappho: A New Translation,” she read aloud. “A new translation of what?”

“Poetry.”

“Really?”

“Mmm hmm.” I went back to reading. Translation: leave me alone.

She took the hint and opened her sketchbook. She shifted in her chair to get a better view of me and began drawing.

I tried to ignore her.

After a while she stopped and simply looked at me. She wanted my attention. When that didn’t work, she nudged my foot with her toe.

I glanced at her briefly before returning to my book.

She nudged me again.

I crossed my legs the other way.

“Do you have a favorite?” she asked.

I didn’t look up. “Favorite what?”

“Poem.”

I held my place in the book and looked at her.

“Sorry. I was just curious. I just thought you might like to share.”

“Not really. No, wait.” I turned back several pages until I found what I was looking for. “Yeah, this is perfect for you.”

Why am I crying?

Am I still sad

because of my

lost maidenhead?

I gave her a flat look, not the least bit friendly.

She stared at her hands. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No, of course not.”

“Only… I feel like I have.”

I shrugged.

“It’s because of yesterday, isn’t it? When I went to church?”

“Nope,” I lied. “Didn’t bother me a bit.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why does it bother you?”

“It doesn’t. You’re you and I’m me. We’re different people.” Very different.

“Is it because I’m Catholic?”

“Is what because you’re Catholic?”

“Why you’re upset.”

“Why should I be upset?”

“Because… I thought… I mean…” She looked down again. “I guess I don’t know what I mean.”

I gazed at her with silent animosity.

“Sorry. I’ll let you get back to your book.”

“Thanks.” I opened it and found where I’d left off.

When she’d gone, I closed it for good and stared out the window at the dark sky. I sat for a long time, wondering why I’d been such an unmitigated ass.

I knew why, of course. I just didn’t want to admit it. I thought about it during my morning run on Tuesday and again on Wednesday. I thought about it between classes and at the gym. I was still thinking about it that evening when the phone rang.

Christy yelled up the stairs.

My thoughts were lost in the dark sky.

She appeared at the door. “Sorry to bother you. Phone.”

“Thanks.” I set my book aside and followed her down.

The phone in my room was Erin’s old one, a white Princess model with pink and yellow flower stickers on the handset. I kept it because it made me think of her and smile. I picked up the receiver and covered the mouthpiece.

“I got it,” I called to Christy.

She hung up the extension in her room.

“Hello?”

“Well, it’s about time.”

I smiled at the tone but frowned because I didn’t recognize the voice.

“Sorry, who is this?”

“Sara.”

“Um… I think you might have the wrong number. Who’re you looking for?”

“You! It’s me, your favorite dyke bitch.”

The penny dropped, but I decided to mess with her anyway. “Hmm, lemme see. My favorite dyke? Gertrude? No, she’s in Paris. Virginia? Uh-uh.

London, I think. Who else…?”

“Very funny.”

“Hey, Sara,” I said warmly. “How’re you? Where are you?”

“I’m fine. How’re you?”

“Good.” I kicked my door closed and flopped onto the bed. “I thought you moved to California.”

“We did. San Francisco.”

“So Daphne went with you? That’s awesome. How’s she?”

“Thinking with your dick again?”

“No. Just asking one friend about another.”

She laughed, happy and nostalgic. “She’s fine.”

“So… everything’s okay?”

“Yeah. I just wanted to hear a friendly voice.”

“And you called me? ”

“Is that so crazy?”

“Not from my perspective. I know I’m a nice guy. But from yours…?”

“I know you’re a nice guy.”

I thought of something out of the blue. “Hold on… how’d you get my number? Not that I mind or anything, but I’m curious.”

“From Jamie.” She laughed. “You’re getting quite a reputation.”

My brow creased at the non sequitur. “Reputation? How?”

“The queer grapevine in Knoxville. Seems you’re all the talk among Jamie and friends.”

“Okay,” I said cautiously. “Is that good or bad?”

“Oh, good. He raved about the party at your house this weekend.”

“Yeah. Halloween. A costume party.”

“Mmm hmm. He said you made a point to invite him.”

“Yeah. Him, Andy, Tom, a couple of other guys I met at your party. What about it?”

“He said you were cool with it. Not many straights are. Not once they realize… you know.”

“That you’re normal?”

“Christ, why is every conversation such a fencing match with you?”

“Sorry. I guess you bring out my combative nature.”

“Yeah? Well, give it a rest.”

“Will do. So, Jamie gave you my number?”

“Yeah.” She laughed. “I wanted to talk to him about… what’s going on in my life. He said it wasn’t his department. Call you.”

“What department?”

“Women.”

“Got it. So, what’s going on?”

“I guess I just wanted someone to talk to.”

“And you picked me? ”

“Yes! I picked you. Now, do you want to listen or what?”

“Sorry. I’ll cool it. I swear.”

“Yeah, well… whatever. Anyway, things haven’t been so great since we moved out here.”

I sat up. “Sorry to hear it. Anything I can do?”

“I don’t know.” I heard the shrug in her voice. “Nothing, really. Maybe just listen and tell me things’ll work out.”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s… Daphne.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah. She’s fine. But…”

I put two and two together. “Lemme guess,” I said, “same problem you had when she met me?”

“Yeah. Only this time…”

“The guy’s a jerk?”

“No. He’s nice enough. And that’s the problem.”

“Ah. Is it serious?”

“I think so. He’s nice-looking, single, decent job.”

I nodded.

“And he actually treats her right. Wants to rescue her.” Her contempt came through loud and clear. “At least you never thought of her as some sort of charity case.”

“No. But in a way, I think we both wanted to save her.”

“Who? You and this guy—?”

“No. You and me. I mean, that’s why you were with her, right? You wanted to save her.”

She was silent for a long time. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“I’m sure you loved her too—still do, obviously—but you wanted to take care of her.”

“Yeah.”

“And now this guy is trying to push you out?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then… what?”

She sighed. “I’m going to have to tell you everything, huh?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“Might as well.” She took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts.

“When we moved out here, I thought everything would be great. San Francisco! Woo-hoo!” She laughed bitterly. “They don’t tell you how expensive it is. Or how dirty. Or how no one gives a shit about you.”

I nodded silently.

“I had a couple of jobs lined up, and we stayed at the YWCA.” She snorted. “The irony is pretty thick, I know.”

I didn’t know, but I didn’t want to interrupt either.

“Then we started looking for a place to live,” she continued. “We couldn’t afford much, not and still eat. The best we could find was a dingy

little one-room apartment in the Hate—”

“Hold on. The what?”

“The Haight.” She spelled it. “Haight-Ashbury? Hippies? Counterculture?

Don’t tell me you never heard of it.”

“Never heard of it,” I admitted. “My parents weren’t exactly hippies.

Kinda the opposite, actually. My dad was in the military. Hawks versus doves. I’m a hawk.”

“Oh. That’s explains a lot. About you, I mean. You’re so clean-cut and Dudley Do-Right.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It kinda was, actually. Anyway, we have a crappy apartment in the Haight. It costs a small fortune, along with everything else. We blew through our savings in a couple of months, even with me getting jobs.”

“How’s that going, by the way? I know it’s off the subject, but… I guess I’m curious. You’re a really good photographer.”

“Thank you. It’s going well. Most of what I’m doing is commercial. For now, at least. Until I get a name with some of the gallery owners. But they’re starting to notice.” She laughed. “You remember those pictures I took of you? The silhouettes of you and your best friend?”

I laughed at her description of my hard-on. “I remember.”

“Those sold first thing.” She laughed too. “Let me know if you ever want to come to San Francisco.”

“You’ll find me a job?”

“Hell no! I’ll keep you to myself. Take pictures of you all day.”

“You’ll have to give me some inspiration,” I said.

“I’ll shoot naked and spread-eagle if it makes you happy.”

“Nude is fine. And then after…?”

She laughed. “Sorry, still not interested. I guarantee I can get you laid, though. Are you picky about who? Does it hafta be a girl?”

“Yeah, it does!” I laughed. “You know what I like.”

“I do,” she said, a smile in her voice. “I’m only kidding. Not about the work, but about getting you laid.”

“I figured. That’s okay.” I paused. “So work’s going well?”

“Yeah, it is. About the only thing, though.”

“Right. So. Back to Daphne.”

“I told you how expensive it is here, right? Well, when we started to run out of money, Daphne talked about finding another job, maybe going back to

the clubs.”

“Why is that a problem?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, sort of. I mean, it’s Daphne’s body. If she wants to strip and make money, what’s the big deal?”

“The stripping isn’t so bad. It’s what happens in the back.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t thought about that.

“Some places aren’t so bad. Just handjobs and blowjobs. But other places have private rooms where anything goes. Management expects it. They take a cut of everything, and the more money a girl brings in…”

“Got it,” I said heavily. “Not good.”

“Exactly. Most girls are just meat to these guys. Chew ’em up and spit

’em out.”

“That sucks.”

“Daphne’s lucky, though… I guess. She’s pretty enough to work in one of the high-class clubs. Their clientele is better. VIPs and CEOs. That’s where she met this guy. His name is Austin. He’s some kind of finance hotshot.”

“And lemme guess,” I said, “he wants to ‘rescue his fallen angel’ or some other nonsense?”

“Pretty much.”

“Does he know about you?”

“Only that I’m her roommate.”

“What does she think?”

Sara paused for a long time, and her voice quavered when she finally spoke. “I think she’s happy. She’s… talking about the future again.”

“But one that doesn’t include you?”

“No.”

“I’m so sorry, Sara.”

She sniffed. “Yeah, well, what’d I expect!”

“Hey, don’t say that.”

“I knew how she was when I first met her. Stupid little—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! This is your girlfriend you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, well, what do you know?”

“I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.” It hurt me to say it too.

“And I know what it’s like to push someone away just to save yourself from pain.”

“I guess that makes you special,” she said with real bitterness. I knew it wasn’t for me, though.

“No. It makes me human. Just like you.”

“Aren’t you so smart.”

“I dunno. Wait till I tell you what’s going on in my life. Then you might not be so sure.”

“Yeah, let’s change the subject,” she said. “Too much about my problems for one night.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind…”

“I’m sure. Nothing you can do to help me anyway.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be your friend.”

She laughed and sniffed again. “You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad you are.”

“Me too. And I know what you mean. Surprising as hell, isn’t it?”

“To say the least. So… tell me about your fucked-up life.”

“Well… there’s a girl.”

“I knew it.”

“Hey, you’re one to talk!”

Her dark laugh was agreement enough.

“Anyway, this girl…” I told her a little about my history with Gina, up to the point where we’d broken up. “Then we saw each other again at her sister’s wedding.”

“And sparks flew?”

“Big time. As good as it ever was, only better. We’d both grown up a lot.”

“So… what’s the problem?”

“Well… there’s this other girl.”

“There always is.”

“Says the lesbian.”

“Ha! Okay. You got me there. Anyway, what about this other girl?”

“I like her.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“No, I mean I really like her.” I woofed like someone had punched me in the gut.

“What?”

“That’s the first time I’ve said that. Not just aloud, but even to myself.”

“Said what?”

“That I like her. And not just in a casual way, like any pretty girl.”

“Sure.”

“Hey, I may seem like a hound, but I’m actually pretty discriminating. I have ridiculously high standards. And my lifestyle… well, I’ll tell you later.

But take my word for it, it’s complicated.”

“So… what’s she like, this other girl?”

“You remember the girls who started all those rumors about you and Daphne?”

“Yes,” she said cautiously. “Hold on… you aren’t talking about that bitch Aisling.”

I laughed. “No.”

“So… the other one? The little blonde? What was her name?” She searched her memory. “Christy, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Good memory.”

“Thanks. So… you fell for her? Isn’t that why she started all those rumors in the first place? To get back at you? ”

“Yeah.”

“So… what happened?”

“Well, it turns out she had a crush on me.”

“Figures.”

“And I was kind of a jerk to her.”

“Figures.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Hey, what’re friends for? Anyway, what happened to change that?”

“I moved in with her.”

She laughed. “You what? ”

“Moved in with her. She’s my best friend’s girlfriend’s best friend.”

She laughed again and worked through the relationships. “Okay. So you live with her. This Christy.”

“That wouldn’t normally be a problem. I mean, I’m not really looking for a girlfriend or anything.”

“Well, you might not be, but your weenie probably is.”

“Yes and no. I don’t really have any shortage of… um… friends.”

“Friends like you and Daphne?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah. I get it.”

“And speaking of which,” I said, “remind me sometime to tell you why I

don’t think your sexual preferences are all that shocking.”

“Oh?” she said, titillated.

“Yeah, but not tonight.”

“So you expect me to call back?”

“No, I’ll call you next time. I mean, I’m not rich or anything, but I can afford a couple of long-distance phone calls.”

“I don’t even wanna think about my phone bill this month.”

“No kidding. So I can call you if you’d like.”

“Um, yeah. That’d be nice.”

I laughed at the surprise in her voice.

She must have heard it too. “You’re a smug prick.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Let me give you my number.”

I wrote it down.

“So,” she said, “you were explaining your perverted sex life?”

“Be careful with the words you throw around,” I said. “Lots of people would say being a lesbian is perverted. So don’t judge me, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, chastened. “I’ll give you that… you never make me feel immoral or unnatural or anything.”

“You’re completely natural. Trust me. I haven’t met many true lesbians, but I know a lot of women who’re bi. Some are like Daphne, just doing it because men have really screwed ’em over.” I thought of Stacy when I’d first met her. “But others, like a friend of mine… She and my mom have been lovers for a long time. And I don’t mean ‘best friends’ or a girl-crush. I mean genuine love.”

“I knew you weren’t normal! I don’t mean that in a bad way,” she said quickly. “I just knew you had something in your past—”

“In my present.”

“—in your present, then… to where you weren’t a judgmental asshole.”

“Oh, I’m a judgmental asshole all right. Just not about sex and love.

Lemme finish my story about Christy. Then you’ll see.”

“Okay, but hurry it up. Daphne will be home soon.”

“Yeah.” I looked at my watch. “And it’s almost midnight here. So I have to go soon myself. Anyway, here’s my ‘judgmental asshole’ story.” I told her about the Halloween party, and especially after.

“Sounds like she likes you too,” Sara said.

“She does, but there’s a catch. She’s religious.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Exactly. Catholic.”

“No shit? Did I ever tell you I was raised Catholic?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah. Just outside of Pittsburgh. But anyway… Christy’s Catholic too?

She isn’t a bride-of-Christ type, is she?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“A nun.”

“Oh. No. Definitely not. But the problem is, she thinks she should be.”

“That’s pretty common. Catholic guilt. I lived with it till I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

“What’d you do?”

“Ran away, as far as I could get, started working the clubs. Some darker stuff too, that I’m not proud of. Then I got my shit together, got the hell out, and made something of myself. Isn’t that what all good Catholic girls do?”

“Um… no. Not this one, at least. Well, not the first part. The last part…?

Not sure yet.”

“It can be tough. I mean, they put a lot of pressure on you.”

“That’s part of the problem. She puts a lot of pressure on herself.”

“What’d she do? Wait, lemme guess. She went to confession the day after she fooled around with you.”

“Give the lady a prize!”

She laughed. “I actually believe it when you say that.”

“What?”

“When you call me a lady.”

“You are,” I said simply. “And one I like more and more as I get to know you.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.” She fell silent for a moment. “I have to go soon. Sorry. But I’m dying to hear what happened with you and Christy.”

“Well, I didn’t react very well when she went to church. I have a bit of a history with religious girls and their sexual hang-ups.”

“Tell me about it!”

“I figured you’d understand. Anyway, I was an absolute jackass to her the next day.” I told her about Monday evening. “I more or less told her to fuck off and die. Not in so many words, but that was the gist of it.”

“Sounds like it. And you’re right, you are a judgmental asshole.”

“Told you. But what do I do? I mean… I really like this girl. That’s why I

tried to push her away. Same thing you were doing with Daphne earlier.”

“Do you want to fix things with Christy? Or do you want the other girl, Gina?”

“I don’t know. That’s the problem. Gina is… awesome. She’s fun, she’s smart, she’s pretty, she’s everything. But Christy is… I dunno. It’s hard to explain. She’s exciting. She’s pretty too, and smart in a different way. But she’s also talented and creative. She puts me to shame.”

“I remember that. Everyone in the art department talked about her.”

I nodded. “She’s also… I dunno. I can’t figure it out. Something about her just gets me worked up. One minute I want to jump her bones, the next I’m so angry I turn into mega-jerk.”

“Sounds like you do have problems,” she laughed. “Makes mine seem insignificant.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” I said. “Your problems are plenty big.”

“Thanks for reminding me— Oh, shit! I gotta go. Call me tomorrow.

Before nine o’clock. Okay? Bye!”

The line clicked.

I stared at the phone and wondered if the past hour had really happened.