Fracture

by K L Hughes

  “True,” J agreed, “But girl, that look you gave her. The whole damn club went cold.”

  “Damn, I’m an ice queen,” Leigh admitted, letting her head bob down in feigned shame.

  “Yes, but you certainly know how to own it!” J exclaimed, before tipping his martini glass and clinking it with hers.

  J’s return along with the approach of the rest of her friends, snapped Leigh from her comical flashback, as she lifted her head to smile her greeting. J slid into the booth beside her, wrapping his right arm around her shoulders and getting comfy. The others followed suit, sliding in on either side of the two.

  “So, Leigh, what is the book about?” Jon, Rachel’s boyfriend, asked her, an expression of sincere intrigue painting his hard-angled, scruffy face. Before Leigh could even open her mouth to recite a short, well-practiced synopsis, J cut her off.

  “It’s about her pining away for her long-lost love,” J said, shooting a sideways glance at his friend to check her reaction. Leigh jammed her elbow into J’s side under the table so that no one would see. They didn’t miss his grunt of pain, though. She cleared her throat before making an attempt to clarify.

  “It’s fiction,” she told Jon, completely contradicting J’s previous statement.

  “And by fiction, she means it’s all true except she changed the names,” J chimed in again, earning him another shot to the ribs.

  “Ooo, I’m intrigued,” Katie, one of the girls from J’s office, said. “I smell a secret.” Leigh felt the blush creeping up again as she realized the truth in Katie’s tease. It was a secret. The entire book was a secret, a precious, painful secret that was now going to be made entirely too public. A flutter of anxiety stirred uncomfortably in her stomach as suddenly, the joy of finally getting her manuscript published leeched away to be replaced by her realization of exactly what that meant. She swallowed the unease and let J’s suddenly soft hand stroking her back comfort her. He could sense her discomfort immediately, knowing the exact thought that had only now popped into her mind.

  “Well, you will just have to read it,” J said, speaking up for Leigh since her voice was momentarily jammed in her throat, unable to escape. “It’s brilliant, Katie. Truly, the most riveting work I’ve read in a long time. Our girl is going to be huge.” They all raised their glasses in a toast to their soon-to-be published friend once more, before settling into lighter conversations, and after a while, they slowly began to dissipate once more. When it was only she and J left, he turned and wrapped his arms around her.

  “All secrets have to unfold eventually,” he whispered, pressing his lips against her ear to ensure that she heard him over the bump of the base. Leigh relaxed her head onto J’s shoulder and absorbed his comfort.

  “I know. It just didn’t hit me until now.”

  “Honey, look, there’s a good chance she won’t even find out about it, let alone read it. Especially not coming from that hole in the wall you thankfully managed to crawl out of.” Leigh laughed at that, nodding in agreement with her friend. She’d grown up in a horribly small, horribly bigoted, horribly limiting small town in the bible belt of the U.S., a place that now seemed more like a surreal, nearly forgotten bad dream, but that unfortunately held her childhood, not to mention her family. She’d been estranged from most of them for a while, since she came out as a lesbian. Really only her mom and sister had been supportive. She maintained contact with them, and sent them plane tickets to visit whenever they could, but she never went home. She wouldn’t, couldn’t. That place was her personal hell, and she refused to be dragged down into the burning ache of it ever again.

  “Oh, trust me, she’ll read it,” Leigh assured him, her stomach lurching uncomfortably again as the words crawled out of her mouth.

  “Yeah, I know,” he said, squeezing her even tighter. A small smile turned up the corners of her mouth as she buried her head into J’s shoulder. Of course he would try to comfort her by saying that maybe the woman who had haunted the memories of her past wouldn’t read the book that heart-wrenchingly broke open all their secrets when he knew damn well that she would. Leigh had told him enough stories about her for him to know better than to think otherwise. They both laughed together as they continued to embrace. J silently prayed that he would have enough strength to get his best friend through the next few months. Normally, the publishing process took at least a year, but he’d recognized the fire in Brad’s eyes after he’d read Leigh’s manuscript. He was going to push it through as quickly as possible. Her name would be plastered across the windows of every bookstore in the country within a few short months. It was going to be one hell of an interesting ride; that much, he knew for sure.

  Chapter 3

  *Twelve Years Earlier*

  “Why are you so afraid to tell me?” Beautiful, blue eyes flashed as the words slipped across perfectly pink, thin lips. A cool, soft, silky hand slipped into another and squeezed. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

  “I’m afraid that it might change what you think of me,” the young woman’s voice was fearful, timid. Her gaze darted around the quiet, book-cluttered room, eventually focusing on the floor. It was easier not to make eye contact when you had something to confess, because then it was like admitting something to yourself out loud rather than to another person.

  “Nothing you could ever say to me would change what I think of you, Leigh. You know you’re very special to me. I think you’re an incredible, smart, funny, beautiful girl, and that won’t change no matter what you say.” The blonde woman slipped a hand sweetly under the girl’s chin, lifting her head so that she could look into her pained, terrified expression. The worry in the girl’s eyes made the woman’s heart ache. The young brunette had already been through a lifetime’s worth of tragedies and hardships despite the fact that she was only sixteen. “Sweetie, don’t look so scared. It’ll be okay. Now come on, tell me.”

  “I’m different,” Leigh whispered, her voice cracking as she tried desperately to swallow the growing lump in her throat.

  “Different how?”

  “I don’t want to tell you.”

  “Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, honey, but you know I’m here. I want to listen. I want to help you if I can, but I can’t do that unless you talk to me about whatever it is that’s bothering you so much.”

  Leigh’s foot tapped nervously against the tiled floor, a steady rhythm lulling her into the back of her mind, where all of her fears wrestled with her need to burst open, to share the truth she’d suspected for a while now, that she’d hidden for so terribly long. She ducked her head again, avoiding the woman’s gaze. What if she told her and it changed everything? What if she lost the only genuine friend she’d ever made? She knew what the people in the town said about them. They both knew. It was inappropriate for a woman of her age to be such close friends with a teenaged girl, but none of those people understood.

  Leigh wasn’t a normal teenaged girl. She was an aged soul trapped in the body of a 16-year-old. After everything she’d been through, all the suffering she’d endured, all the responsibility she’d had to take on at such a young age, she’d matured far beyond her years. She’d never met a single person her own age that she could connect with. There were none on her level, none that stimulated her intellect or that valued the same things she did. She’d always bonded with adults rather than her peers, and because of that, she’d been utterly alone. That is, until Beth had come along.

  They’d met in the public library where Beth had worked at the time. Leigh spent every day after school in that library, reading all she could, devouring books like sustenance. Before long, she and Beth had begun to talk. They’d bonded over classic literature, poetry (including Leigh’s own original poetry), music, everything, until their souls had become so intertwined that Leigh couldn’t imagine her life without the older woman. It was the truest, most beautiful friendship she’d ever known.

  “What if…” Leigh let out a long, deep sigh, her breath ra
gged on her trembling lips, as she began again. “What if I told you I was gay?” The teenaged girl immediately thrust her hands up to cover her face, hiding her tears and her shame from the woman she’d so grown to love.

  “I’d tell you that that doesn’t matter,” Beth responded, reaching up to pull Leigh’s tear-soaked fingers from her eyes so that she could look into the girl’s face. She wanted Leigh to see that she meant every word she was saying, that no part of Leigh’s confession changed how she felt about her.

  “Really? You don’t…you’re not disgusted?”

  “No, I’m not disgusted, Leigh. Do you really believe that you’re gay?” The older woman sweetly wiped the tears from Leigh’s cheeks as she spoke, keeping her tone gentle and welcoming. She knew this was a big step for Leigh. It wasn’t easy to be gay, she knew that much, but being gay in a tiny town like the one they lived in? It was impossible. She knew how people would react, how Leigh’s own family would react, so she wanted her to know that even if nobody else understood or accepted it, she did. She would always support Leigh no matter what.

  “I think so. I’ve thought I was for a while now. It’s like it’s something I can just feel inside myself. Does that make sense? I just feel it. I think part of me has always known, even when I was just a kid. I just didn’t want to face it. I still don’t. My family will never understand, B. They’ll disown me.” Leigh’s face was strained with the fear Beth knew she was feeling. She reached out and pulled the girl into her, wrapping her arms around the petite brunette, and planted a small kiss on the top of her head.

  “Shh,” Beth whispered as she ran her fingers through the girl’s hair. She knew it would comfort her. It always did when she came in upset about something her dad had said to her or something the kids at school had done to her. She always came running to Beth, her only comfort. “It’ll be okay, sweetie. Just breathe.”

  “I don’t want to go to hell,” Leigh whispered against Beth’s rhythmic heartbeat. The voiced fear had been so quiet that the older woman had almost missed it. Leigh’s family was incredibly religious, and Beth knew that many of them would probably never accept the girl’s sexual orientation as natural or even as something that Leigh couldn’t change. They would see it as a choice, and they would judge her for it. The entire town would. This was the bible belt and “gay” wasn’t a word that many there took well to.

  Beth had never understood the general animosity toward gays. She knew what the scripture said about it, though she’d always interpreted it differently than most. She knew in her heart of hearts that being gay wasn’t a choice. No one would ever readily choose to estrange themselves from their family, to be a second-class citizen with no rights, no equality. No one would ever choose to be persecuted, unless they never had a choice to begin with, and that was how Beth had always seen it.

  The older woman gently pushed Leigh upright, and cupped her wet cheeks in her hands. “Hey, you are not going to hell for this. Do you hear me?”

  “But the Bi—” Leigh began to interject, but Beth placed a soft finger over her lips to quiet her.

  “Listen to me,” Beth continued. “There is nothing wrong with you, Leigh. A person’s sexual orientation isn’t something that he or she can choose or change. You understand? You didn’t choose this, and even if you could have, there is nothing wrong with it. God makes each and every person unique, and He never makes mistakes. If this is who you are, then this is who you were meant to be. Okay? You are beautiful, Leigh, and you’re perfect just the way you are, and being gay doesn’t change that. Not a bit.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise, honey. I promise.”

  Chapter 4

  “Whoa, uh, I have an issue with one of the dates, here,” Leigh interrupted, drawing all of the eyes present at the meeting to her. The slight quiver in her voice caught J’s attention, and he knew what was coming. He’d known this was going to happen the second he’d gotten the tour schedule from Brad’s assistant, Samuel. J had taken over as Leigh’s agent in the few, short months it took to run her manuscript through the system—editing, cover art, copyrights, etc. And he was damn good at his job, though he hadn’t had to bargain or fight much with the process, thankfully. Brad loved Leigh’s book enough that there wasn’t much he had to say in the way of changes, suggestions, and the like. And as far as her contract went, J couldn’t have struck deeper, richer gold than what Brad had offered, especially given that Leigh was a breakout new author, which Brad typically despised signing. It was clear, though, that he and everyone else in the office was entirely enamored with her work; so, she got whatever she wanted, but J knew that this little riff would not go the way Leigh hoped. There was no shaking it. The tour schedule was set in stone, and it wasn’t about to change.

  “The tour schedule is pretty solid, Leigh,” Brad told her, a look of concern momentarily contorting the weathered features of his face, the ill effect of years in the publishing industry and too many sleepless nights. “Which date do you have a problem with?”

  “October 16,” Leigh answered him, “and it isn’t the date that I have a problem with. It’s the site. I don’t see why it’s necessary that we present in St. Louis.”

  “St. Louis is a large city, Leigh,” Brad argued with her. “There is a large following for the arts there, especially literature. There’s a ton of potential, and we have had a lot of success there with past book tours. I don’t understand the issue here.” His face looked stern, which made Leigh slightly uncomfortable, and she even considered backing off for a moment, but the crawling feeling in her gut pushed her onward.

  “I can’t go to St. Louis, Brad. I just can’t.”

  “Would you care to elaborate on that, Leigh, or are you simply going to be a pain in the ass today?” Brad was normally a really respectful guy, but he hadn’t slept much recently, so Leigh didn’t hold the remark against him. After all, she was, in fact, being a pain in the ass. She knew it, but she didn’t care.

  “No, I would not. I just can’t go to St. Louis.”

  “Well, unless you have a solid reason, and by that, I mean unless you’re either getting married on that date or unless someone has a hit out on you in St. Louis and your life is in danger, you’re going.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he threw a hand up to stop her. J squeezed Leigh’s leg under the table to warn her to hold her tongue. “Don’t even, I’m serious. You’re going to St. Louis. End of discussion.”

  Shit. Leigh’s thoughts were one long string of expletives as her stomach painfully bottomed out. She leaned over to J and whispered in his ear, “You wouldn’t want to get married would you? October 16?” He laughed softly and patted her leg as her stomached painfully roared against the truth. I’m going to St. Louis.

  ****

  *Six Months Later*

  Leigh’s knee bounced uncomfortably fast and hard beneath her dancing pen as the plane touched down and pulled into the terminal at Lambert International Airport in St. Louis, MO. J reached over and rested a strong hand on her thigh, patting it lightly and lovingly.

  “Just relax, sweetie. Short and sweet—we’ll be in and out. This is one of the shortest presentations on the tour, so just try and take a breath.” He was worried that the woman was going to have a nervous breakdown in the middle of her reading, let alone if the unthinkable happened and the woman whose name and face and voice adorned the pages of Leigh’s book actually showed up for a signed copy of her own painful story told through someone else’s words. Thankfully, though, J knew that Leigh’s mother and sister were coming, which would probably help to set her at ease a bit. Their presentation in St. Louis was only scheduled to last around three hours, which to Leigh, was a solid enough reason to argue that the stop wasn’t necessary at all, but they both knew it had more to do with Brad’s obsession with time management than anything else. It was only about an hour-long flight to Chicago from St. Louis, so by cutting the St. Louis presentation short, Brad was able to schedule two cities in one day.

 
; They walked through the terminal, hand in hand, looking like something out of a magazine. They were impossible to miss with J decked out in a perfectly tailored Hugo Boss suit, complete with an ebony skinny tie that easily managed to accentuate the muscles of his chest. He was gay, true, and he could be feminine, also true, but J was a man through and through, with all the class and swagger of a true gentleman. Leigh’s heels clicked sinfully against the tiled floor of the terminal, calling attention to her 4-inch cherry-red pumps, which only further called attention to her slim, milky white calves, leading up to her toned thighs barely peeking out from beneath her tightly clad black pencil skirt, up over her petite hips, to her slim, muscled waist wrapped in a matching black button-up and blazer. Black on black on black with a shot of color—she was classy, but she was also unique, and she liked to show it off. She always could rock a skirt suit, and she stomped the terminal like a flaming runway, her confident strut daring anyone to say otherwise. She maintained composure, always, but it didn’t stop the butterflies in her stomach, painfully swooping left and right, up and down, making her throat tighten uncomfortably.

  “Relax,” J said soothingly, his voice soft and sweet as he spoke to his best friend. “If nothing else, you look fantastic.” Leigh couldn’t help but laugh a bit at J’s attempt to make her smile. He had always been such a wonderful friend, always taking care of her, always by her side. “Black on black on black, honey, you look like you’re dressed for a meeting with the President.”

  “Or for a funeral,” Leigh snorted, both of them laughing.

  “Thank God we flew first class,” J said as they made their way down the long corridors of Lambert International. “We have barely over an hour before the reading is scheduled to begin, and you know how wrinkled my suits always get in those cramped coach seats.”