Waiting for the Punchline

by Natasha West

  ‘I know it is, but I’m scared shitless right now, Pheebs. I need it spelled out.’

  ‘Why are you scared?’ Phoebe said, at last looking at Megan. ‘I’m the one saying all this stuff.’

  ‘Because maybe I’ve thought about this too. And maybe I’ve tried not to because you’re my best friend and I didn’t want it to be like that. Me lusting after you while you never notice. And you’re gonna be gone soon.’

  ‘Lusting?’ Phoebe repeated. She didn’t notice the hammer drop out of her limp hand.

  Megan rolled her eyes. ‘Ugh. This is why I didn’t want to talk about this. I feel a right tool.’

  ‘How do you think I feel? I just broke the law!’

  ‘What, the alarm? I don’t think that’s actually illegal.’

  ‘Isn’t it? Well, it’s still very frowned upon. And I did it to stop Joy from… sexing you up!’

  Megan couldn’t help it. She started laughing. ‘Sexing me up?’

  ‘Stop it. It’s not funny’ Phoebe said seriously.

  Megan stopped laughing. ‘So what do we do now?’ Megan asked after she’d calmed down.

  ‘Fucked if I know’ Phoebe said.

  Megan gasped. ‘I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say the F word.’

  ‘I’ve been saving it for a good moment. This seems like the one’ Phoebe said, slumping back down to sit on the edge of her bed. Megan joined her and they sat on the bed together for a silent moment, trying to find some normality. But normality was gone. As soon as Phoebe had smashed that alarm, it had fled. Megan and Phoebe both felt like they would never see it again.

  But if that was the case, was there a chance they might find something else in its place?

  ‘Pheebs?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I’m gonna kiss you now.’

  Phoebe felt her stomach do something that reminded her of the time she’d gotten stuck in a faulty lift. It had dropped a little while they were trying to get it fixed. Just a few inches, but it had felt like she was plummeting to her death. That was what her gut was doing, dropping a little, feeling like it was falling forever.

  ‘OK. Yes’ she said uncertainly.

  Megan didn’t move. After a while, Phoebe couldn’t take the tension.

  ‘I thought you were going to kiss me?’

  ‘I’m working my way up to it’ Megan said irritably. ‘Don’t rush me.’

  Phoebe tutted. ‘Well, this is a romantic start to it, I must say.’

  Megan turned to Phoebe. ‘You’re a ballbreaker, Fitzgerald.’

  ‘And you’re a flake, Hunter.’

  ‘Only when I don’t want to do things. And I want to do this. But I can’t do it with you… looking at me like that.’

  Phoebe sighed. ‘I don’t think this was a good idea. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

  Megan felt the opportunity she’d never thought would ever come slipping away. And though she wasn’t good at seeing things through, nothing had ever really mattered like this. She turned quickly and put a slightly trembling hand out, touching Phoebe’s face, catching her quite by surprise. They’d never done this before but somehow, when Megan’s lips met Phoebe’s, they fitted together perfectly. Perhaps it was due to the length and depth of their friendship, perhaps because of the intensity of the situation. Perhaps just because.

  It was the first time Megan had kissed someone and the second time for Phoebe. But it wasn’t the fumbling moment that it could have been. It was lightening striking, intense and electric.

  A few sweaty, fiery minutes later, Phoebe broke the kiss, saying ‘I need a breather.’ She was being literal. She kept forgetting to breathe.

  Megan sat back, certain that was Phoebe’s code for I’m not into this. She should have known better. She was, after all, half of the kiss. And she couldn’t like it as much as she did if Phoebe hadn’t been there with her. But the stakes were high and paranoia ran rife through the situation. ‘Sorry’ Megan said.

  Phoebe blinked. ‘What are you sorry for?’

  ‘I’m not sure. But I am.’

  ‘I can’t think what you’ve got to apologise for.’

  ‘So you don’t hate this?’

  Phoebe’s eyebrows met in consternation. ‘Meg, you’re a good kisser but you can be pretty dense at times.’ Megan’s face broke into a grin and Phoebe leaned in to kiss her again. And this time, it was less fraught with worry. Either of them could have stopped this by now. And no one had any intention of doing so.

  Nineteen

  Megan awoke to the vague sensation of pain. Her arm hurt.

  As she came closer to the surface of consciousness, she realised the pain was because of Phoebe. She was asleep on top of it, causing it to go numb. But as sore as it was, Megan wasn’t about to move. She wanted to enjoy this moment alone before she woke Phoebe.

  She looked over at her best friend, still hazy, her veins running with a vague, pleasant feeling. But as she became sharper, she began to have the fear that everyone who has ever gotten the thing they want most eventually has. She started to wonder how long this could possibly last before she buggered it up.

  Last night had been special. But not so special that anyone had taken their clothes off. It had been fully-clothed, hands-above-the-waist, shoes-still-on-their-feet kissing. Not that Megan was complaining. Even though she’d started her evening with the possibility of having honest to god sex, she’d gotten something way better. Getting to kiss Phoebe beat whatever gymnastic porn star stuff Joy had to offer. Because she loved Phoebe.

  She wasn’t sure what kind of love that was yet. It was all too raw, fresh, new. Megan had gotten far too good at suppressing her feelings about Phoebe. She was still digging them all out. The kissing had expedited the process, that was for sure. But Megan was still a ball of confusion.

  While she was lying there, numb armed and needing a pee, thinking over her epic snog with Phoebe, the girl in question suddenly sat bolt upright.

  ‘Are they coming?’ she asked no one in particular.

  Megan put a hand to hers and asked ‘Who, Pheebs?’

  Phoebe turned around to see Megan and asked, ‘The police? Because I pulled the alarm.’

  ‘I think you were having a nightmare’ Megan explained.

  Phoebe examined her thoughts and realised it was true. And then reality began to settle into her mind. She looked down at Megan. ‘Oh my god! Did we...?’

  Megan’s eyes went wide. ‘Yeah. Is that OK?’

  Phoebe nodded. ‘I think so. Is it alright with you?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Well… Good, then.’

  Megan sat up, not sure what else to say on that subject. ‘I need to wee.’

  Phoebe watched her go into the bathroom and listened to the sound of water hitting water. And then Megan called from the toilet, ‘I’m starving. Can we go get a bacon sarnie?’

  Megan squeezed ketchup onto her sandwich. It was way too much sauce, Phoebe noted. But Megan had always treated ketchup as though it were a food group, applying it liberally to whatever she ate until the structural integrity of the meal was in danger.

  Phoebe wasn’t eating anything. She was just having a cup of tea. And as she watched Megan demolish her sandwich, washing it down with her usual breakfast coke, she was in a state of pure panic. She had about a billion questions that she would have liked the answers to, but if she could have sifted through to the main points, they were these:

  How do I feel about last night?

  If I turn out to be a lesbian, what’s my Mum going to say?

  Am I a decent kisser?

  What’ll we do now?

  ‘Are you freaking out?’ Megan asked, once she’d swallowed her current mouthful.

  ‘What? No. Why? Are you?’ came the quickfire responses.

  ‘I’m not sure. On the one hand, we’ve been friends for ages and I’ve heard people say that this sort of thing ruins friendships. On the other hand…’

  Phoebe waited for the rest of
the sentence but Megan simply took another bite of her sandwich. It took Phoebe every last bit of restraint not to scream out ‘On the other hand, what?!’ But she didn’t.

  But Megan, who had completely been playing for time with that bite, couldn’t deny the inevitable. She was going to have to finish her sentence. She chewed and swallowed. ‘On the other hand…’ She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Here’s the thing. We know I like girls. I’ve said it more than once. But I don’t know where your head is. If this was a once-in-a-lifetime trying-it-out thing, that’ll be alright. If you let me know now.’

  Phoebe knew Megan well enough to understand what she was doing. She’d provided Phoebe with the words to wrap this neatly up, with no egos bruised or feelings badly hurt. Phoebe hadn’t known what she wanted to say two minutes ago. But hearing the words laid out, the trapdoor for escape left open, she knew something. She didn’t want to get out.

  ‘And what if I didn’t say that? What if I said I really liked kissing you and I don’t think I want it to be the last time.’

  Megan put her sandwich down and dabbed her lips, preparing to lay herself out, to put it all on the line. ‘If you said that, then I’d say the same. Actually, screw it, I am saying that. It was amazing. And I want us to be more than friends-’

  Megan stopped talking as the deeply disconcerting sound of Phoebe bursting into a momentary shrill laugh broke her concentration. Phoebe held a hand up, trying to ask for mercy. ‘No, I’m not laughing at you. This is all just so…’

  Megan got it. ‘Yeah. I know. I’m losing it as well.’

  ‘Then let’s just get this part of the way’ Phoebe said, the laughter subsiding. It was her turn to be brave. She glanced around to check no one was looking and then leaned in and kissed Megan across the table, softly yet definitively. Megan returned the kiss without hesitation.

  A small cough from a nearby table broke it up and they sat back down quick. They smiled at each other conspiratorially across the table. Both of them were terrified.

  Twenty

  The weeks that came next passed in a blur. But a nice blur.

  Megan and Phoebe continued to do their jobs at Dinkles, Megan in the day, Phoebe in the night. But they couldn’t have been less present. That was par for the course for Megan, always one to phone it in. But even Phoebe, who lived every note she played, found herself drifting off in the middle of sets, her muscle memory and lower parts of her brain keeping the music going as her thoughts turned, again and again, to Megan. Even Joy couldn’t make much of a dent in the pleasure that filled Phoebe’s mind at the knowledge she’d soon be back in Megan’s arms and lips.

  And Megan was thinking about Phoebe. She’d be diving about in the ball pit, head to toe in stinky rabbit and her mind was on the other side of the building, where she knew Phoebe was. She could picture her, plucking the strings of her guitar, that focus in her eyes, music flowing from her fingers. Even when she was playing some crappy pop hit, Phoebe could add depth and beauty to it. Megan had always felt something happen to her when she watched Phoebe play. But now she didn’t feel a weird embarrassment about that sensation. She was allowed to get soppy about it. Because Phoebe, who’d always belonged to her, had become hers in a new way. The best way.

  They grabbed every moment together that they could. They’d always done that, of course. But now there was an unbearableness to their separation. Where once it had been a general desire to be together, now there was a sexual magnet pulling them like never before.

  Because once the awkward conversation had been gotten through, they transitioned into a couple with surprising ease. It made a kind of sense. For years, they’d understood each other and laughed together. And now those things had been sprinkled with hot make-out sessions. It was more than the cherry on a cake, it was an ice cream sundae thrown on top.

  But still, there was an unspoken topic that was a little troubling, a cloud hovering over paradise. Phoebe was leaving at the end of the summer, off to Manchester. And Megan was going back home.

  At midnight, on one particular night of lying together on Megan’s single bed, going hot and heavy in a session that was threatening to step over the line into something else, a something else they were both quite desperate for at this point, even if they weren’t completely sure how to get that something else started, Megan suddenly put on the breaks.

  ‘Pheebs?’

  Phoebe, whose hand had been quite high up Megan’s thigh, snatched it quickly back, thinking she’d gone too far. ‘Sorry!’

  ‘What for?’ Megan asked, confused.

  Phoebe realised she’d misread. ‘Oh. Nothing. What’s up?’

  ‘I was just thinking about the end of summer.’

  Phoebe nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking about that too.’

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘It’s making me feel kind of weird.’

  Phoebe nodded. ‘Yeah.’

  There was a silence. And then Megan decided to jump off the cliff. ‘I love you’ she said quietly.

  Phoebe felt her vision blur. ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then come with me to Manchester’ she said, glad of a chance to verbalise what she’d been thinking since Megan had first kissed her.

  ‘I… But what would I do?’

  ‘I don’t know. You definitely don’t want to go to uni?’

  ‘No. I can’t do three more years. I’ll go barmy.’

  ‘Then you could get a job.’

  ‘As what?’

  ‘You’re good with the kids, the whole costume thing. You could get a job like that in Manchester. Or something similar.’

  Megan looked dubious. ‘I don’t know…’

  ‘Look, we don’t know what’s going to happen. We’d be leaving home for the first time. But we did this whole thing, Dinkles, didn’t we? And you made it happen.’

  Megan realised she was right. She’d taken this leap and she’d taken it for Phoebe. And it had turned out good. It was better than good, actually, but Megan didn’t think there was a word in the dictionary to define how the last few weeks had been so she’d stick with ‘Good.’ And if she wanted to hold onto this feeling, she could do it again, the leap. She could make it work. It was worth just about anything to hold onto Phoebe and the way she made her feel.

  ‘You didn’t say anything’ Megan suddenly noted.

  ‘What?’

  ‘When I said I loved you. If I’m coming with you, I just need to know… I don’t expect you to say it back or anything. I guess I just want to know that you’re, that you’re, that you might, maybe, one day…’ Megan stuttered, not sure what she was trying to say.

  Phoebe was shocked. ‘Of course I love you. I’m sorry, I thought I’d said it. I guess I just said it in my head so loudly, I suppose I thought it had come out of my mouth.’

  Megan tried to suppress the enormous grin that was fighting to appear. But she couldn’t.

  ‘So you’re coming?’ Phoebe asked.

  ‘Yeah. I’m coming to Manchester.’

  Phoebe smiled and grabbed Megan for another kiss.

  A few minutes later, buoyed by the commitment they’d both made, things developed. Clothes started to lift and be pulled down, hands began to touch new parts. They were both scared but there was something stronger than their fear at work. It was need.

  Megan half wished she’d gotten a few pointers from Joy. But as she slipped her fingers down into Phoebe’s knickers, she heard an appreciative low moan and felt a shocking wetness and she knew that winging it was going well so far and maybe she should just try to go with the flow.

  A few minutes later, a confirmation came that she was on the right track. She felt Phoebe’s body begin to shake and then Phoebe gripped onto her arm, squeezing it tightly. It hurt a little but Megan barely noticed. She was too busy watching Phoebe squeeze her eyes shut and make a soft, breathless wail. And then Phoebe released her grip and her entire body went limp. Megan took that as her cue to
stop what she was doing.

  She looked down at Phoebe, whose eyes were still closed. She seemed to be trying to catch her breath. This was what it was like to make a girl come. Megan couldn’t imagine anything better to do or see on the entire planet. It was like having some sort of enormous life secret unlocked. This was what people talked about when they talked about ‘It’.

  Eventually, Phoebe’s eyes opened and she looked at Megan. She smiled, her eyes trying to focus. ‘I’ve never had… One of those before.’