Everything Grows

by Aimee Herman

  “Cool,” I smiled. “Should we head over to the movies? I’m actually not sure why we didn’t just meet there. I was thinking of that on the ride over.”

  “I thought maybe we could walk around Jamesway. That way we can actually talk to each other before sitting in a dark room, staring at a screen. Maybe grab some candy that’s not like a million bucks.”

  Jamesway was fourteen-thousand-suns-bright. I could see all of T’nea. Her almost hazel eyes and long, painted fingernails, slightly chipped. Her ripped jeans, the kind that you buy that way. Her bright red Doc Martens.

  “What do you think?” T’nea put on a wide-brimmed hat with a ribbon of dark purple wrapped around. It was the ugliest hat I’d ever seen, yet she looked even more beautiful.

  “Not as beautiful as you,” I said.

  She blushed, and I blushed from her blush.

  T’nea took off the hat and laughed.

  “Maybe we should grab our candy and—”

  T’nea didn’t let me finish my sentence. Instead, she leaned in close and pressed her lip-glossed watermelon-flavored lips against my plain ones. She tasted like a meal. Like every sugary candy I ever wanted but Shirley always forbid because she’s convinced it will rot our teeth.

  T’nea’s hands were wrapped around my neck, so I placed mine around her waist. Being so close to her like this made me feel so excited and—

  “Ew, lesbians.” We gave each other back our tongues and looked up. A guy around our age was beside us, making terrible faces. He called his friend over to stare at us as though we were zoo animals about to do our designated trick.

  “Do that again. That’s fucking hot,” the other one said.

  “Why don’t you both fuck off,” T’nea yelled back. “It’s dicks like you who remind us why we don’t fuck men.”

  I stood still, panicked and paralyzed, not wanting to cause any more attention to ourselves. I had forgotten that what we were doing—kissing—wasn’t normal. I forgot we were two girls. In my mind, she was just a girl and I was just a—

  “How about I change your mind, bitch?”

  My chest grew tall and heavy all at once. I hadn’t felt this fear since . . . since you pushed me, James.

  “Gross. Just walk away, boys,” T’nea said, looking at me as though I was supposed to say something, speak up or stand up for lesbians everywhere.

  “T’nea,” I finally muttered. “Let’s just . . . let’s just go, okay?”

  “I’m not letting them push us out. We can do whatever we want.” She grabbed my shoulders, bringing me into her and kissed me even harder. Her tongue went all the way down my throat (or it felt that way) and I was afraid I’d accidentally swallow it.

  I could feel the two boys digging their stares into us, and I pulled away.

  “Then, I’m gonna go,” I said. I started walking away, crushed that our date was ending before it had barely even begun.

  The boys just stood there in silence.

  “Eler, hey . . . sorry. Wait up, please.”

  T’nea grabbed my shoulder and pulled me into her. She hugged me by the shoe department and I melted into her arms.

  “I’m really not looking for that kind of attention,” I whispered into her ear. “I’m not trying to put on a show. I just . . . I just want to be next to you without an audience.”

  “I know. I mean, I’m not either. I just never want them to win, you know? Like why should we have to hide our kissing if they can just mack on their girls all over the place?”

  “Because that’s just how it is,” I said.

  “Hey, let’s just head out, okay? Please forgive me.”

  I smiled, weaving my fingers in with hers. My fingertips felt like they could fall asleep against her knuckles. Like tiny, soft hills.

  “Let’s head to the movies. Then, I can kiss you some more. It’ll be dark. No audience.”

  “Sounds like a much better plan,” I said.

  We walked toward the movie theater. We’d missed the first half hour, but neither of us seemed to mind. I bought a box of milk duds for her and twizzlers for me. We remained in the back row, interrupted only by the armrest between our seats. The theater wasn’t too crowded, and there wasn’t really anyone near us.

  It was dark, but I could feel all of T’nea beside me. All I could think about was kissing her again and she must have read my mind, because she turned toward me and leaned in.

  Her lips pushed against mine and I could taste everything she had eaten all day. Bubblegum. Peanut butter sandwich. The sweet caramel from the milk duds. I wondered what I tasted like to her. A few times, our teeth clinked together like glasses, but we just continued. It’s like we were desperate. As though our mouths had been waiting for this moment. And I forgot to breathe or maybe I was breathing inside her. We were inhaling each other’s exhales. This was what I’ve been reading about in Judy Blume books and watching on Shirley’s soap operas. The rage of tongues. It felt amazing.

  And then. T’nea, with tongue in my mouth, took her hands and began sliding them up my shirt. I jumped, unprepared for this dive from first base to second. Second, right? Yeah, this is definitely second. French kiss, up the shirt, then down the pants, then home run. What would even be our home run?

  She slowly parted her lips from mine and said, “You alright?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “I just . . . I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Your breasts feel so good to me. Want to feel mine?”

  Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. Maybe I gave too much breath away to her while we were kissing. I pulled my shirt down and fixed my bra, which I hate hate hate.

  “Uh, yeah, but . . . I don’t like that.”

  “What don’t you—”

  “Sshhh!” Someone from a few rows up turned around to scold us.

  “Sorry,” I whispered back.

  “I just . . . I kinda hate my breasts,” I said, in the thinnest whisper I could possibly make.

  “But they’re so nice. Damn, I wish mine were small like yours. Mine are so heavy. They hurt my back.”

  “Oh, well, yeah,” I clumsily said. I never thought about the weight of breasts and how they could affect the rest of you.

  “I just really want to touch you,” T’nea said.

  I smiled, though she couldn’t see this, feeling such pleasure from being wanted. From her wanting to explore me.

  “Well, you can touch me. Anywhere,” she added.

  And so I did, with her permission. We smacked our lips back together and I headed to second base. Her breasts were large, rolling around in my hands. I wanted it to be bright enough to see them, to understand what I was touching. But maybe it was the dark that encouraged our boldness.

  In the dark, she moaned. And I worried we would be shushed again, but no one seemed to pay any mind to us. I had no idea what was happening on screen even though I could hear the characters speak. But all of it just became background music to us.

  At some point in my second base exploration, she took my hand and placed it between her legs. I froze, completely unsure of what to do.

  “Unzip me,” she whispered.

  What?

  She had stolen all of my saliva and I couldn’t believe that we were doing what we were doing in the movie theater where my last kind-of-but-not really date was in sixth grade and I saw “The Little Mermaid” with Ryan Gregory. He asked me out, but I was too nervous to be alone with him, so I invited Dara along too. I sat between them and the next week in school, he asked Dara out on a date and they wound up being a couple for one whole month! I remember being so mad at Dara for taking Ryan from me, but also forgiving her since I didn’t really like him in the first place.

  T’nea was wearing lacey underwear. I couldn’t tell you the color because of the darkness, but I could feel with my fingers, the stitching and scratch of it. If blushing made a sound, the whole movie theater would have scolded me because I just know I was covered in head to toe skin flush.

  James, I had no idea what
to do next. None of this was talked about during health class where we had an abbreviated sex ed. I placed my hand against her underwear, which was peeking through her open zipper.

  “I give you permission,” she said.

  Permission to do what?

  “I really want you inside me, Eler.”

  The awkwardness of the arm rest and the movie projected in front of us and these strangers and my complete lack of knowledge on sex and this kind of sex and—

  T’nea grabbed my finger and slipped it beneath the elastic of her underwear and then and then pushed my finger into her.

  What? Oh my gosh oh my gosh.

  I couldn’t believe I was inside her. This person who I still barely knew. Were we having sex? Was my finger clean enough? Maybe it was sticky from the Twizzlers. I moved around and felt her get bigger on the inside. Like she was expanding. She was so wet and when I moved around I could actually feel the textures inside her. I was amazed at how turned on I was just from moving around inside her.

  James, to be one hundred percent honest, I thought it would be Aggie. When I first started to understand my feelings about her, I hoped she would be my first time. If this was even it. I mean, was this sex? Just thinking that made me feel so utterly dumb, but all I knew was what they taught in health class and that was just about a penis entering a vagina. But if there was no penis, what counts as sex? I couldn’t dare ask anyone about this. This is what I was thinking about when I was fingering T’nea.

  I called Shirley from the payphone at the movie theater to let her know that T’nea’s brother would drive me home. She didn’t seem to mind, which I was relieved about. In the car, I sat in the back with T’nea in the front and her brother, Weston, driving. We sat in silence as Weston played his music really loudly. At one point, he asked us how the movie was and we both nervously giggled.

  “Really enjoyable,” T’nea uttered.

  “Yup,” I said.

  When we pulled up to my house, T’nea casually said goodbye to me. I was relieved because I didn’t exactly want to kiss her in front of her brother. And I’m sure she wouldn’t have wanted that anyway, since he didn’t even know this was a date.

  “Call me,” she yelled out the window as I walked toward the front door.

  I turned around and smiled, but it was dark, so once again the lack of light hid my emotions.

  “I will,” I yelled back.

  Friday, December 24

  Dear James,

  In the midt midst of my excitement over my date with T’nea, I forgot about the last assignment Ms. Raimondo gave us before Winter break, which I am now officially on! In class, we were talking about all of the stories and poems we’ve read so far.

  “I’ve got one task for all of you to start on during break,” Ms. Raimondo said. “And before your groans and moans, I think you might like this one. I want you to craft a reading list for someone. Someone you know, someone you’ve never met, someone who no longer exists. But keep in mind that this someone you choose has been chosen for a reason. What I mean by that is, choose books they could benefit from. Books they may not have known about but should. Maybe books or poems we’ve read or discussed here and even ones you’ve read independently. This is your opportunity to curate someone’s literary intake.”

  Of course I thought of you, James. I knew my list would be for you.

  Saturday, December 25

  Dear James,

  In the Fromme household, we don’t exactly celebrate today. We don’t even celebrate Hanukkah anymore, which was earlier this month. Although I do remember the days we used to. When Shirley and Dad still loved each other, we got presents on all eight days. Mostly books. Earrings for Greta because she got excited over that sort of thing. Usually a tape single or sometimes a whole album. Little things for the first seven nights and then on the last night of Hannukah, we’d get our big present. Fifth grade, I got the best gift ever (though my opinion on this has since changed) when they got me concert tickets to see Milli Vanilli. That was my first concert ever. Dad came with me. Of course, it wasn’t until later that we learned it was all a sham and they weren’t even singing. Do you remember that, James? I took down all my pictures of them that I’d hung up on my walls from magazines.

  Anyway, houses around us are all decorated, bright lights and candles in the windows. Blow-up Santa Clauses and even a Winnie the Pooh dressed as Santa on the Deffino’s lawn down the block. We used to drive around and look at the dressed-up houses. There is a neighborhood on the way to school that is full of mansions and they do like a crazy light show with projection on the houses. They play music too. I wonder if you ever went there. Did you decorate your house? I’ll have to ask Helaine.

  Since Flor has come into our life, we celebrate a little. She doesn’t really have family to be festive with. She has a few brothers and a sister, but they are scattered—Oregon, Texas, Michigan—so we do something at our house. Flor makes a ham (yum), Shirley usually makes a roast and then lots of sides. Basically, like a second Thanksgiving. This will be the first one without Greta, but she promised to call. And it will be the first one with Helaine. I asked her in group last week if she’d like to come over. Her first Christmas without you. And without Bert too.

  Lately, I’ve been wondering how different things would be if you were still here. Helaine wouldn’t be coming over, I wouldn’t be writing these letters. But you’d still be writing to me. Were you ever going to say anything? Maybe senior year, if we both made it there, you’d have let down your guard. Maybe we would have even applied to the same college. Peter says that maybes are dead ends. They lead us nowhere. We can only work with what we’ve got.

  Okay, I’m back. Full. Very full. I ate too much ham, but you probably don’t care about that. Even though Greta wasn’t there, we had a crowded table. Shirley, Ted, Flor and Theresa—who I finally got to meet and really like, and Helaine. It’s been awhile since we had so many people over.

  Today reminded me of the end of Passover. Dad would pick up every kind of bagel imaginable, lox, pickled herring (yuck), all sorts of spreads, and cheeses. He’d cut onions and tomatoes, and the aunts and uncles and cousins would bring cookie platters and babka. So many people that we wouldn’t all fit in the dining room, so kids sat in the kitchen.

  Helaine shared news that she has decided to take some classes at the community college. Maybe learn bookkeeping.

  It didn’t take long for Flor to bring up last night.

  “Our Eleanor went on a date last night,” she said, proudly. I was annoyed because I definitely didn’t want to talk about it, but it also meant a lot that she aknowlege acknowledged it.

  Helaine was sitting beside me. “That’s so wonderful, Eleanor. You mentioned that you met someone. Did you enjoy yourself?”

  I could feel my organs blush. How do I describe a date where we went to the movies, but I didn’t see anything because we were having sex (I think).

  “Yeah,” was all I could say.

  “You think you’ll have a second?” Flor asked. For some reason, Shirley was remaining silent on the matter.

  “Maybe. Yeah, I guess. I hope so. Sure.” I think I was still digesting everything that happened. It was like swallowing a giant piece of cake without chewing. I love cake and I always want more of it. But if you eat it too fast, you get a stomach-ache.

  “I’m so . . . I’m so proud of you, Eleanor,” Shirley finally said.

  “For going on a date?” I asked.

  “You’ve just . . . grown so much in these months. I’m amazed everyday by you.”

  James, it was less than a year ago that Shirley tried to kill herself. Less than a year ago that my world felt like it had been pushed into one of those souvenir snow globes, turned upside down and all shook up. Nothing is the same, I’m not the same, you’re not here, you were barely even in my thoughts then. Now, I think about you every day.

  Sunday, December 26

  Dear James,

  I talked to Reigh today! She’s staying i
n Minneapolis with a friend who is about to have a baby.

  “Her belly is darker,” she told me. “She’s got this bruised color around her belly button from the stretching and I know I’ll never get to push one of ’em out of me, but me oh my, what a miraculous thing to have a little human inside you.”

  I felt like I could hear Reigh’s face stretch from her illuminating smile.

  “Well, I know I never want one inside me. It’s bad enough I bleed now,” I said.

  “So . . . did you go on your date with Prince?”

  “Yes, yes!” I said, excited to finally be able to give away some of the details. I had spoken to Aggie on the phone earlier and I felt a little bad that I kept some of the specifics to myself. I guess I felt weird talking about sex with the one person I thought I’d have it with. Does that make any sense, James?

  “Tell me everything. Of course, everything you feel comfortable with. I don’t want to pry.”

  I spent the next twenty minutes telling Reigh everything. Those stupid Jamesway boys. Getting mad at T’nea because I didn’t want to call extra attention to ourselves. And of course, the best part of all: what happened at the movie theater.

  “So, needless to say, you won’t be writing up a review of The Addams Family movie any time soon, eh?”

  I laughed. “I guess not. Hey, um, Reigh, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course, doll, anything.”

  “I’m so embarrassed to ask this but what counts as . . . sex when it’s between two . . . of the same bodies?”

  “A great question, because we all know our schools aren’t talking about that, are they? From what you shared, it sounds like you popped your—pardon me, changed your status from virgin to not. If I may be a bit more clinical, some—and I include myself in this group—believe it’s anytime you are penetrated.”

  James, I’ve blushed plenty in my life but what happened during this conversation was way beyond blushing. I was on fire. I was like what Smokey the Bear warned us about. My wildfire was spreading, and I could smell the melting of my skin. I was—

  “You okay out there?” Reigh interrupted my panic.