by Virna DePaul
It had never mattered with other people, at least that’s what I told myself, but with Sara, it did matter.
She mattered.
“We’ll talk later,” I murmured, gesturing to Vickie. Ben’s jaw went tight, but he nodded in understanding.
I sprawled on the couch as Ben grabbed a counter stool from the kitchen and sat next to Vickie. As Ben told me what he’d been up to recently, I tried to focus on what he was saying. The truth was, however, I couldn’t think about anything other than Sara.
Or rather, Sara One and Sara Two, the two women I seemed to have met. Both were amazing, but one still felt constrained by what her family expected of her and one boldly surrendered herself to her own needs and desires.
I could relate more to Sara Two.
Ben would always be one of my best friends and someone I’d shared amazing experiences with and yes, given that I was going to have to break his heart I should be focusing on him, but right now, all I could smell was Sara’s freesia body spray. All I could think about were her soft locks of wild auburn hair.
After catching up a bit, my friends and I set up a table and got to playing poker at Vickie’s insistence, because it reminded her of the good ol’ days, and Vickie was all about the good ol’ days.
I felt uneasy as we tried to play poker like it was any other night. Even the beer tasted flat and bitter against my tongue. On the outside, everything seemed the same, but on the inside, something had changed, and I was pretty sure that something was emanating from me.
“So,” Vickie said, taking a long sip out of her beer bottle. “Ben, old buddy, you’ve been back for hours, and Wes is holding out on you.”
I gave her a narrow glare.
Ben’s eyes narrowed back at me.
“Planning to fold, Victoria?” My voice was laced with arsenic, a strong warning in my tone. She’d better not make me talk about Sara when I wasn’t ready. I needed more time to ponder my life before discussing it with Ben. He deserved more than for it to be just casual talk over a game of cards.
“Holding out?” Ben said. “I didn’t know Wes had news. So, tell me, what’s the big secret? Vickie is acting complicit.”
I glanced up from my cards. “She could be acting that way to distract you so she can win again.”
“Normally,” she practically cooed, “I wouldn’t put that above me, but this time you do have news, especially of the romantic variety. Don’t you?”
“Excuse me?” I stared at Vickie. “What makes you think there’s anything serious going on in my life?”
“I never said it was serious. I said it was romantic.” She shrugged.
Color drained from Ben’s cheeks. Though he tried to act unaffected, his hands shook just a little. “Wait, you found a groupie you wanted to have sex with more than once? Should we get some confetti and champagne?”
“Ha-ha, so fucking funny,” I said, seeing and raising his bet.
“She must be a big deal.” Vickie put in a few more chips for her bet. “Because suddenly Wes is acting like he’s Snow White and has to stay oh-so-pure.”
“Who said I’ve been staying pure? Just because I didn’t want to have sex with you?” I snapped back. Ben knew Vickie and I fucked as friends so that was no secret.
“Oh, a nerve’s been hit. I fold.” Ben set his cards down and moved back to the sofa, but I knew the real nerve had been hit with him, not me. “You’ve really met someone?” he asked, his tight jaw set in a fake smile.
“Look.” I sighed, folding my cards also. “Can you come out to the balcony? I want to talk with you.” I got up and shot Vickie some side-eye. Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut for once?
“I’d love to.” He stood and followed me out.
Ben immediately lit a cigarette, which made me wince. I’d worked so hard to quit, and it was hard enough without other cancer-stick puffers puffing to their heart’s delight.
“That’ll kill you, you know?”
He glared at me and put his free hand on the railing. “Look, we said we’d talk about our relationship in three months. It’s been three months. You were honest about not being ready for more, needing to think about it, but I figured you were just scared. I know I’ve been the dirty little secret you can’t tell the guys, but I thought you respected me enough to let me know when things changed. And you know I’m not talking about casual fucks, Wes. Casual fucks are just that. But if you’ve fallen for someone, you should have told me.”
“I just met her, Ben.”
“No, Wes, don’t give me that excuse. It only takes seconds to call me,” he said, starting to pace, the red tip of his lit cigarette flashing in the night. “I gave you space to think things through about us, but apparently too much space. Now I’ve lost you.”
“You’re my best friend. You always will be.”
“And that’s your bullshit line with the rest of the band. That I’m just ‘a friend,’ but I know we were more. There was magic.”
I hated to break his heart, but there was never magic. He was my closest guy friend and there was sex, and yeah, love, but there was no magic. Not on my end.
“So, who is it? You’re in love? Just like that?”
I sighed and shoved my hand through my hair. “I like her. What can I say?”
“Say the truth. Call me, tell me about her, and prove to me we’re best friends, but no—Vickie finds shit out before I do,” he said, a desperate edge to his voice. “How is that fair?”
“It’s not. I should’ve told you.” I reached out to touch his shoulder.
But Ben jumped back like I’d burned him. I couldn’t feel more like an asshole if I’d tried.
“Stop.” His voice wavered, and his cigarette butt went shaky. “I’ve been naïve. I really hoped you’d grow some balls, that you’d be able to come clean about who you are—about who I am and have been to you. I mean, you have the guts to play in front of a stadium full of strangers. You explore your creative side. You’re not a scared person, Wes. I was so happy for you when you started those film directing classes. I encouraged you. But you’re hiding from everybody. Now this girl’s going to change that? Will you keep her in the dark about your sexuality, too? About who you are?”
“I can’t answer that right now. Hell, Ben, I haven’t even fucked her yet.”
“Wait—you mean to tell me you’ve fallen for someone you haven’t even fucked?” At my nod, Ben scoffed. “Whatever. You have to know how much this hurts, Wes. I can’t fucking breathe!”
“Ben, I’m sorry, but I’ve only known her a few days. Yeah, she’s awesome, but even you would agree with that if you met her. Look, it’s not like I set out to meet her. Or anybody, for that matter.”
“You didn’t turn your radar off, either,” he said, dropping his cigarette and stomping it out angrily.
“True,” I agreed, “but that was our agreement. Three months, no restrictions. See how we feel at the end. I know how I feel. And even if Sara didn’t exist, I can’t give you what you want. I love you, Ben, but I’d be entering into something that means way more to you than it would to me if we were to make things permanent. And in the end, you’d be hurt.”
Ben started to speak but I cut him off.
“You want me to be honest with who I am, and that’s what I’m doing now—telling you honestly that I can’t love you the way you love me. But I do love you.”
“Look, I can’t make you fall for me. That’s just not how the world works. I need to get over it, that’s all.”
We both stared at the crushed cigarette for several seconds, me wanting to say something, anything, to make things right between us.
Finally, however, Ben spoke first. “Tell me about her.”
Relief washed over me. That was the thing about Ben. We could talk things through and always come out the other side. As much as this was killing him, he loved me and wanted to see me happy.
“Her name’s Sara. She’s a student at NYU. She came to one of our shows, got stuck in an elevator w
ith me—”
“Seriously?”
“Yup. We were in there, just the two of us, for about a half hour. She was panicky, and in calming her down, I found we really clicked.” I shook my head. “Then when we were rescued, she took off. Maybe it was the way she disappeared, but for a week, all I could do was think about her.”
“For a whole week. Wow. That’s like ten years in Wes time.”
“Stop.”
Ben nodded and swiped at his eyes. “I can’t believe I came all the way out here for nothing. And now you’re hanging out with Sara Lee, a baker from NYU.”
I could see the smile curling his lips. I sighed. “Crawford, not Lee. A religious studies student, not a baker.”
Ben’s eyebrow raised. “Sara Crawford? Why does that name sound familiar?”
“Shit. Did everyone know about her dad but me?”
“Wait. Are you serious?” Ben’s eyes lit up. If he couldn’t make me love him, then getting the chance to make fun of me clearly was a close second. “As in, Peter Crawford? Dude. If you’ve watched any videos at all in the last few years, you’d know who he is. He’s everywhere. The biggest opponent there is to equal marriage.”
“I’m not dating Peter Crawford. I’m dating his daughter. She’s not like her father in any way.”
“She used to be in all his family videos. I can’t believe you haven’t seen them.”
“While you’re watching videos, I’m touring the world.” I shook my head. “Just trust me. Sara’s not like her father. She’s not a homophobe—I saw her smile at a gay couple, and she mentioned her roommate is gay. She’s cool, man.”
Ben snorted. “She’s cool, huh? Have you told her, though? About who you really are?”
“Not yet.”
“Of course not.”
“It’s too soon,” I argued. “We just met.”
“But you said you’re falling for her. Falling for her, Wes. As in, falling in love. But now you’re arguing that you just met and that’s why you haven’t shared that you’re bi?” Ben frowned. “Are you sure you’re that into this girl?”
“I’m into her,” I said between gritted teeth.
“But don’t you see how convenient this is? Because if you committed yourself to a girl, you’d never have to be truly open about your bisexuality. You can keep on letting the band”—he pointed to Vickie inside watching TV— “and your friends think you’re straight.”
“My sexuality is no one’s business but mine. And maybe a person I do end up committing too. If things between Sara and me progress, I’ll tell her. I won’t keep secrets from her. Not if we get serious.”
“Her family is going to hate you.”
“No shit,” I snapped. “I don’t fucking care if they hate me. As long as Sara doesn’t.”
“Don’t you get it?” Ben’s laugh came out harsh. “She’s part of the same family. She might be the different one, but eventually, she’s going to side with them, Wes. Good girls always side with their daddies.”
“I don’t believe that. Not about Sara.”
Ben shook his head. “Maybe you’re right, but if you’re involved with her, you will be involved with them. The family will find out. They’ll do all the research on you. By the end, they’ll know more about you than you do—credit scores, arrest records, the whole thing. They’ll use everything they can against you. Including your sexuality. This cannot end well.” He shook his head again and placed a hand on the side of my cheek. “I can’t believe you’re risking so much for a piece of ass.”
“She’s more than that.”
“That’s what I thought about you.”
I winced, hating the hurt in his eyes. Before I could respond, however, he spun and went back inside, collecting his wallet and heading out the front door. Vickie waved through the glass, giving me the “I’ll call you” sign, and left with him.
All I could do was watch the people on the street below on a beautiful New York City evening, headed to dinner or out for a stroll. And all I could think about was the hurt in Ben’s eyes, and what he’d said: They’ll use everything they can against you. Including your sexuality. This cannot end well.
Fuck them.
Fuck them all, I thought.
I was sick of people trying to define who I was by who I was sexually attracted to. Of people telling me I wasn’t good for Sara or visa versa.
Sara and I were not going to end.
In fact, we were just beginning.
Chapter 9
Wes
I was busy with the band for a few days before I had a chance to see Sara. I’d texted her, but just light stuff, nothing too serious. A couple of funny memes, a few sexy goodnight texts. I’d been looking forward to spending some significant time with her but now… Fuck, work was messing things up again. I was even going to have to go out of town, but I didn’t want to tell her that over text.
I needed to see her.
When I’d called to ask her if we could meet up, she’d sounded excited. I’d offered to send her a car, but she’d insisted on taking public transportation again, and now we were walking through the Upper East Side in my neighborhood, East End. Lots of celebrities lived here in blissful harmony, like Hollywood in LA. There were no tourist attractions or college campuses nearby, so chances of getting attacked by fans were close to zero.
“I like this area. I hadn’t come here yet,” she said, checking out the surroundings. “I mean, I knew about the Upper East Side, but I didn’t even know East End existed.”
“Yeah, the neighborhood’s only eleven blocks, nice and quiet with a park right over there.”
“Is that where we’re going?”
“If you want, sure.” I stooped to pick up a random blossom that had fallen from a tree and tucked it behind her ear. “You don’t have to take public transportation to see me, you know. Next time I invite you somewhere, let me send a car to get you.”
“That’s okay. I like walking or taking the subway. Something grounding about it. My father used to have cars take us everywhere all the time, oftentimes with bodyguards, and I don’t know…it felt excessive. So I actually like this freedom.”
“I get it.” I offered my hand. It was the first time I’d tried to hold her hand in public, and Sara glanced at it momentarily, then looked at me with caution.
“I’m worried about being seen,” she explained. “Might sound crazy, but I oftentimes feel like my father has spies everywhere.”
I put my hand back in my pocket, pushing away my hurt. God, I was getting pathetic where this girl was concerned. “Doesn’t sound crazy. But let me ask you something. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“If your father were to see a photo of you with me, or with any other guy, for that matter? What would happen to you?”
She scoffed. “If the guy’s not part of our church, I’d be put on the next plane back to Texas and given an inquisition.”
“But you’re a woman, Sara. One with her own mind, who can decide for herself what she wants. You’re not a child anymore, and you’re not one of your father’s minions. He can’t just put you on a plane back to Texas.”
“He can and he would.”
I stopped and faced her, holding her by the shoulders. “No. He can’t. He doesn’t own you. He can ask to talk to you. He can say he’s worried and get mad at you. But he can’t make you go home.”
“You didn’t grow up with Peter Crawford.”
I let her shoulders go. True. I hadn’t walked a single step in her shoes. “I’m just saying, getting read the riot act is bad, but as a consequence it’s not that bad, is it?”
“Losing my family would be the worst,” she said solemnly.
“I get that. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset you.”
Yeah, losing her family would be shitty for her. It had been shitty for me. Still, I’d done what I’d needed to do to live the life I was meant to. To be free.
As we continued to walk, var
ious emotions washed over Sara’s gorgeous face. Finally, she sighed and stopped walking. “I know you’re right, Wes,” she said quietly. “I have to tell my family at some point that I’m not who they think. I’ll still love them, but if they don’t love me in return, then there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m just not ready, but I’m hoping to get there.”
“You will,” I said. “You’re strong, Sara. You’re amazing.”
She smiled, then reached down and took my hand, her warm fingers intertwining with mine. I squeezed her hand, and we continued down the street. Despite the heavy subject matter we were discussing, I soaked in the fact we were together, walking hand-in-hand on a beautiful New York City day, talking about things we could both relate to.
“So, why did you ask me to come over?” Sara asked. “You sounded like something was wrong.”
We stopped by a large shade tree to lean against it. Time to face the music and tell her the bad news. “Just wanted to see you before we left.”
“Left?” Sara’s eyes widened, her arm stiffening.
“Yeah, I wanted to tell you in person. An unexpected trip—we’ll have to put the music video on hold for now.” I rubbed her arm to ease her fears. “We’re recording with a musician friend of ours in LA starting tomorrow.”
“How long?”
“We’ll be back in about a week. Can I see you when I get back?”
“Yes, of course,” she finally said and I let out a sigh of relief.
Unable to stop myself, I steered her toward a nearby tree, pinned her against it, and kissed her. Passionately and meaningfully, with my hands against her face, giving her everything I had. Because I wanted it to last long into tomorrow and through the week. I wanted her to think about me every day while I was gone. And when I came back, after I told her the truth, I wanted her to accept me, stand by my side, believe in me.
