by Ann Bannon
Suddenly Beth pulled away from her and stood up with a with wordless passion, [Sentence ommitted] quick movement as if that were the only way it could be accomplished.
"Beth!” said Laura like a hurt child, as if she were about to lose her.
"Got to fix the bed. Somebody might come in. My God, they can't find us like this. Open the couch, honey. I'll get the blankets.” She leaned over to kiss her once more and then she went out of the room.
In a few minutes she was back with the bedclothes. Laura couldn't look at her without touching her. She went over and put her head down on Beth's shoulder, and Beth let her burdens drop around her to free her arms for Laura. After a while they got the bed made up and the light turned out and themselves tucked in. There was still a little noise in the halls.
"What if somebody comes in?” whispered Laura.
"Nobody will. Besides, if somebody does, it won't matter. They won't know. The dorm is cold as hell tonight. A lot of kids are sleeping in their rooms. Don't worry, don't worry,” she whispered and drew her closer in her arms.
"Oh, Beth,” said Laura, and her voice was light as a breath and as warm. “I love you. I love you so much."
Beth bent down and kissed her. Hush,” she said. “Sleep."
CHAPTER EIGHT
LAURA THOUGHT NOTHING could ever awaken her. The days that followed were dreams. She wrapped herself in her secret; she wore it in her eyes, on her lips, in her stomach where it welled up hotly to ignite the star in her heart. Her moments with Beth were brief but beautiful, precarious and precious.
It took Beth some time to recover from her astonishment. In one swift strange night with Laura she had found that powerful delight that was supposed to be the crown and glory of romantic love. It had been effortless, inevitable, more wonderful than she had dared to hope. But it had been ironic, too, that it had come like this unbidden, so easily, with a girl. Beth thought of the many men she had looked to for it; the countless times she had searched, tried for it, even worked for it, with nothing for her pains but fatigue and eventually boredom. How had a simple girl like Laura been able to spring her emotions free of their trap? It was a little uncanny. Beth eyed her with a new respect, but she couldn't help wondering ... if it had been Charlie she had slept with instead of Laura, would it have happened anyway? Would it have been as good, or better? Maybe Beth was just ready for it when Laura happened to come along. Or maybe she needed a woman to teach her how a woman can feel. Beth couldn't find the answer, and the more she looked for it the more perplexed she became.
Laura and Beth found all sorts of odd little gratifications. At house meetings Laura liked to sit behind Beth and scratch her back. It went unnoticed, since half the others were doing it too. At the Union they met each other for coffee in the afternoon and they walked home together for dinner. During the long quiet evenings they studied; beside each other on the couch when they could, across the room from each other when Emily got to the couch first.
Emily was now a thorn in the side, now the spice of danger. Her presence inhibited them and at the same time made the least glance, the least casual touch almost unbearably sweet. If Emily sat down at the desk to write, their eyes met over her back and their lips smiled behind her. If she sat in the chair and left them the couch they found means to let their bodies touch somewhere, gently, with seeming carelessness. When she left the room they had a sublime moment to kiss and caress and tease.
Still, Emily wasn't the only threat. Beth was pursued regularly by phone calls and visitors to the room. Someone might walk in at any time. Her minutes with Laura had to be brief. And yet she made time or found it somehow. Then she would hold Laura in her arms, whisper to her, tell her how often she thought of her, kiss her, comfort her, make love to her. And Laura would pour her passion over Beth like honey—rich and sweet and natural, and yet somehow ensnaring. It was delightful, a balm and a succor to Beth, but it wasn't all-engrossing, all-satisfying, as it was for Laura.
Beth knew this, and she knew she had to be honest with Laura before she broke her heart. Once or twice she tried to explain her feelings, but her uncertainty stopped her. She was afraid of hurting Laura, even though she knew that a small hurt now was far better than a great hurt later. But just then any hurt at all seemed too much. It wasn't fair to hurt her so soon. Beth stuffed her logic into this ill-fitting mold, not just to spare Laura, but partly to preserve her own pleasure. It was selfish, and she knew that, but for a while her need was as great as Laura's—different, but just as strong.
It would have been nearly as hard for her to renounce the thing as for Laura, so she let things drift for a while and luck and happiness drifted along with them. They had each other and no one suspected anything.
Into the golden days sailed Charlie, like an unwelcome thunderhead. Laura had almost forgotten about him and the dance she had asked him to. She was ready to plead any strange malady to get out of it but Beth insisted that she go.
"You made that date almost two weeks ago, honey,” she said. “You can't just suddenly break it. You can't just quit going out. It'd look pretty damn queer if you did. Besides, you need a little male company now and then."
Laura disagreed by simply not answering. But she didn't say no when Charlie called.
"Does your roommate have a date?” Charlie had asked.
Laura bit her underlip. “Oh, yes, she's got a date,” she said brightly.
Charlie seemed to see through her ruse almost instinctively. “I don't mean the other one—Bud's girl—I mean Beth. She got a date?"
"Oh. Beth. No, I don't think so."
"Don't you know?” He laughed a little.
"No, she doesn't.” Her voice was sharp, but Charlie ignored it.
"Well, my roommate wants a date,” he said. Mitch—you remember?” The whole thing struck him as something of a joke. Even Mitch wasn't serious about it. Two such disparate characters as he and Beth would never last, but they might brighten up the Christmas Dance a little. Besides it would be fun to have Beth around, and Charlie couldn't very well take her himself.
"Mitch?” said Laura.
"Yeah. Beth there?"
"Not till dinner."
"Okay, he'll call her after dinner. Talk to her, will you, Laura?"
"Okay, Charlie. I'll tell her."
She did, of course; she had to. But she didn't like it. The whole thing seemed ominous to her.
"He's a very nice boy, I guess,” she said glumly. I don't think you'd like him, though. He didn't say a word at Maxie's that night."
"Oh, I thought he was adorable,” said Beth, and she reached out laughing and took Laura's hands. Laur, you're jealous!” she said.
"No I'm not! Really, Beth, I'm—you mustn't—Oh, I guess I am. Just a little."
Beth mussed her hair and said, “I'd be crashed if you weren't. Just a little.” She lighted a cigarette and said thoughtfully to the smoke, “Well, it might be fun to get back into circulation. Just for once."
"All right.” Laura looked at her hands. He s going to call you tonight after dinner.” She got up stiffly and started for the door.
"Laur—where're you going?"
Laura didn't know. She just wanted to express her dis—
"Oh, Laura, honey,” Beth said, laughing. She came up and stopped her and put her arms around Laura's waist. “You mustn't be so jealous. You've been going out all fall. How do you suppose that makes me feel?"
Laura hung her head.
"God, Laur, we'll double date. How could I possibly two-time you?"
Laura apologized. “I won't be jealous,” she said. “I swear I won't.” And she underscored her intention with a kiss.
Charlie and Mitch arrived together for the dance and waited in the living room for Beth and Laura. Charlie was imposing in a tuxedo, and he looked faintly amused and detached from the proceedings. Like Emmy s Bud, he was something of a ladies’ man, but unlike Bud, he didn't court crushes from every girl he knew.
The attitude became him, but he w
as hardly aware of it. It wasn't that he was immune to girls—far from it. It was simply that he was much more susceptible to women. Simpering college girls amused him. They were silly and scatterbrained, many of them, and once in a while he thought they were fun. But a beautiful woman, assured, alluring and feminine, was a wonder he could never wholly resist. He had begun to see the first signs of this mature loveliness in Beth, just as she had begun to find maturity in herself.
Charlie and Mitch stood off in a corner and surveyed the girls of Alpha Beta, and the girls milled about and returned the survey. Charlie was fun to look at because he was good to look at. His hair was wonderful stuff—a rich dark brown born of an early blond that left gold traces at his temples.
"A pretty nice-looking bunch,” said Mitch. He was enjoying his favorite spectator sport.
"Yeah. I've been away from this house too long."
They grinned at each other.
"Who's that one over there? By the fireplace?"
Charlie followed his gaze. “Oh, in the red? Boy, you're coming back to life.” He laughed and slapped Mitch on the back. “That's Mary Lou Baker, the house president. Nice gal."
"You know her?"
"Used to. Haven't seen her for a while. Let's go over."
Mitch hung back. He liked looking better than doing. But Charlie was striding across the living room and rather than be left stranded Mitch tagged after him. Charlie in action made a beautiful study in savoir faire. Mitch admired it, with secret envy.
Mary Lou looked up and smiled at Charlie as he came up. “Well, Charlie Ayers!” she said. “How are you? Gee, I haven't seen you for ages."
"Mary Lou, I'd forgotten how pretty you are.” She laughed a little, pleased and embarrassed. Mitch stood and looked at her in the same way he had stood and looked at Beth, with a sort of goodhearted and passive admiration that rarely asked for more than a look. “I hear you've been seeing Laura Landon,” Mary Lou said to Charlie.
"Um-hmm.” He smiled.
"Isn't she a sweet girl? She's one of our best pledges. We're really fond of her."
"Yes, she is a nice girl,” he said politely. “Here she comes,” said Mary Lou. Beth and Laura came in together in very different moods. Beth was luxuriously pretty. For once she had taken time for every detail of herself, to Laura's alarm.
"After all, I only go out once a year,” she explained. “Might as well do it up right."
"Well, if Mitch doesn't think you look terrific, he's blind,” said Emmy. “Isn't that so, Laura?"
"Yes."
Laura tried to keep Charlie occupied with her so that he wouldn't have time for Beth. She talked or trapped him into talking as steadily as she could. But the four of them sat together and the conversation jumped about frequently.
Laura couldn't help it if Charlie offered Beth a cigarette and lighted it for her, but Beth could help it if she took his hand to steady the light and watched him while she inhaled. Whenever she spoke or smiled or glanced at Charlie she aggravated Laura's irritation.
They went into the dining room to dance after a while, and Laura had Charlie to herself. Not that she wanted him, but for once she was happy to put up with him, just to keep him away from Beth. The dining room was romantically festive with green lights, and all the furniture had been cleared out to make a dance floor. At the rear of the room was a long elaborately decorated table loaded with punch and cookies. Now and then, at intermissions, Beth and Mitch met Laura and Charlie around the punch bowl. Inevitably, Charlie finally suggested that they trade partners. Laura hardly had time to think about it before Beth was swept masterfully onto the dance floor and she found herself moving off with Mitch.
Charlie was perfectly assured with women and he liked to be around them. It was almost second nature. They never gave him much trouble. He was easy and firm with Beth and she followed him docilely, faintly annoyed with him for attracting her and amused with his confidence.
"That's a very pretty dress,” he said, looking down significantly.
"Thanks.” She smiled at him.
"Good color for you."
"I think so, too."
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you always wear purple?"
"Urn-hmm,” she said, pursing her lips sagely and nodding.
He laughed. “Always?"
"Of course. Even my pajamas are purple."
He grinned and gave her a squeeze that brought back to her the strange sensations in the booth at Maxie's.
"Don't you believe me, Charlie?"
"No,” he said calmly. “A girl like you doesn't wear pajamas."
Beth had to smile at him but at the same time she wanted to shatter his beautiful composure. He seemed to know instinctively how to tease her and she couldn't catch him off guard. He thought he had her perfectly under control. She had to wait till the dance was nearly over for a chance to trip him up.
He bent down close to her and pulled her tighter in his arms and said softly, “Beth, my dear, you're beautiful."
It was just her cup of tea. “Thanks, Charlie, so are you,” she said.
For the space of a few shocked seconds he was silent. Beth waited for a tantrum, but she guessed wrong. He put his head down against hers as the music ended and laughed at her. And at himself.
"It's my criminal charm,” he said, and squeezed her again, and Beth looked up at him in surprise. And again she smiled at him against her will....
The four of them went out to dinner together at the Hotel Champlain. Laura became more and more quiet as her jealousy grew. Only Beth could see behind her deliberate courtesy to her hurt feelings.
The two girls went to the ladies’ room and Beth tried to talk some sense into the younger girl. “Are you all right, Laur?” she asked. “Yes, of course.” Laura looked down into the cascade of blue tulle flowing from her waist.
"Honey, tell me the truth. You look so unhappy.” Laura bit her lip, and then she said, “Beth, I told you I wouldn't be jealous, and I won't."
"Oh, Laura—” Beth couldn't help smiling. “You're such a foolish little girl. Do you know that?"
"Yes.” It meant no.
"Who's Charlie Ayers anyway? Just a guy.” Charlie was causing the trouble, of course. Not Mitch. “No more foolishness. Okay?” Beth talked to Laura as if she were a little child.
Laura nodded at her. The image of Charlie interfered with her every good intention, spoiled her every smile.
"Laura...” Beth's voice was very soft. “We'll be together tonight. We'll be together."
Laura looked full at her suddenly and momentarily forgot her rival till Beth gave her a little shake. “Come on, we've got to get back. They'll think we fell in."
And Laura followed her willingly then, as if a great weight had been lifted from her.
The evening went quickly after that, and everybody drank too much, except for Mitch, who was talking himself into a crush on Beth.
Beth had to stop Laura from a fifth Martini. “God, Charlie, what are you trying to do? Pickle her? She's not used to it,” she said.
Charlie grinned and shrugged. “Give the lady what she wants,” he said. His interest in Beth grew franker as his inhibitions grew fewer, but it didn't seem to matter. He couldn't stop himself. He began to get quiet and deliberate. When he got drunk he slowed down perceptibly, but there was nothing unmanageable or mean in him. He was quite pleasantly absorbed in pondering the enigma of Beth Cullison.
Now and then he would lean forward lightly on the table and study her as if she were a map. Beth gazed straight back at him in an effort to make him look away, but it was rather more like indicating the way to him; he wasn't in the least abashed. Beth was somehow half afraid that he would read in her eyes something of her concern for Laura; that he would see on her lips the illegal kisses, the extraordinary passion that the girl had inspired in her.
Charlie tried to ignore Beth out of regard for Mitch and Laura, but the other two simply didn't interest him. He asked Beth to dance with him again before the evenin
g was over. The floor was small and packed. He guided her away from Mitch and Laura so they couldn't see, and he spent the dance pretty much in one place, holding her hard against him and talking to her. She had to look up at him to catch the words, and she tried to protest.
"Charlie, we have to get back,” she said. And, “You're holding me too tight."
But he only shook his head and kept her there. He had never been so attracted to a girl. It just couldn't have happened any other way. He pulled her out of the crowd and into the shadow of the heavy drapes by the bandstand and gave her just time to say, ‘No—’ before he kissed her.
When he released her she said, “Charlie, please, for God's sake—"
"I know,” he said and gave her his handkerchief. “Don't talk about it. I know."
"No, you don't,” she said, wiping off the smeared lipstick. “You couldn't. Let's get back.” But she didn't want to.
It was a while before she could look at Laura again; the whole evening was different, irrevocably changed. It wasn't Laura she wanted that night, but it was Laura she would have.
CHAPTER NINE
MITCH WAS MAD. It happened very rarely, but Charlie had muscled in on his date. He walked stiffly into their apartment. Charlie sighed and followed him in.
"Okay, Mitch, I'm sorry. So we both like the girl. We both want the girl. Okay, so we both call her."
"But that's just the point. You act as if you own every woman you look at, damn it. You—"
"I act like it but I don't."
"You make them think—"
"Oh, Mitch, for God's sake, that's a lot of crap. That's a lot of damn crap. You go around with your nose out of joint because you think I'm better equipped to seduce women than you are."
"Well, let's face it."
"Oh, let's face it, hell. Do you think a girl like Beth would fall for a face? For a lot of crap? Well, do you?"
"Any girl could be fooled."
"Well, would you like to know how well I fooled your precious date? I danced with her, remember? Do you know what I said to her?"
