The Broken Hearts' Society of Suite 17C

by LeighAnn Kopans

  Amy hadn’t even thought about the possibility of Arielle kissing another girl, let alone having sex with one. How did lesbians even do that? The thought made Amy swallow hard, because she couldn’t even begin to grasp it–she’d spent her whole life being taught to never, ever even think about same-sex couples as anything besides an abomination, let alone considering them kissing.

  Arielle looked up at Amy cautiously, as if she’d been reading her mind. Amy’s heart twisted, because she realized that when she looked at Arielle, she didn’t see a sinner or someone disgusting. She saw a friend, who’d had her heart shattered just like Amy had. Most of all, she saw someone who clearly had someone she was interested in, and needed a way to talk about it.

  It was Amy’s turn to tease. She cleared her throat and smiled. “This person you’ve been meeting for lunch before we walk to Biology. You’re always so happy when I meet you after that. It’s her, isn’t it?”

  “We’re just friends …” Arielle started, when Rion cracked up.

  “Bullshit. You are crushing so hard. Is she hot?”

  Arielle’s eyes flashed to Amy’s, then focused on Rion. “Yes. I mean…definitely.” Then a grin broke out on her face. “We really are just friends. Nothing’s happened. And she’s nothing like Rachel. But…I don’t know. Amy’s right. She makes me happy.”

  Amy’s cheeks stretched with a smile, like Arielle’s happiness was pushing right through her, too. She let it sweep over her, and reached a hand out to squeeze Arielle’s. “You’ll keep us posted, right?”

  Arielle caught Amy’s eyes and nodded, still smiling. She blew out a long breath that sounded like relief and contentment mixed together. Then she looked at Rion. “So. This test you’re giving poor Tattoo Guy. I want to be there. You know, for moral support.”

  “For me?” Rion said. “Because, what? You think I care what the results are?”

  “Not for you, for him. Poor guy.” Arielle’s eyes danced with laughter, and Amy giggled. She did feel bad for the guy, even though she totally understood why Rion wanted the test.

  “Sure. Might as well bring the whole fucking Broken Hearts’ Society Welcome Wagon,” Rion grumbled. She hoisted herself up to standing and looked down at the other two girls. “Are we done? I have to go …” She clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. “Whatever.”

  Then she stalked into her room and slammed the door.

  Arielle smiled at Amy like they had a secret. Amy shook her head, smiling too. “I thought the Society was supposed to keep us from getting our hearts broken,” Amy said. “Not finding us new boyfriends–er…sorry. People to date,” she finished when Arielle’s eyes flashed to hers at the word “boyfriend.” Even though Amy wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of two girls being romantic with each other– even talking about that kind of thing could cause trouble in her hometown–Amy liked Arielle. She liked her good-natured teasing, admired the way Arielle seemed to be willing to drop everything for her roommates. The idea of making her into a real friend was more attractive than the whole lesbian thing was disturbing, by far.

  “I don’t know,” Arielle said, offering a small smile to Amy. “I think letting the right person get away could be just as heartbreaking as getting dumped.”

  Matt’s words bounced around in Amy’s memory. How he liked her because she was her. She had never even asked Adam why he loved her, and he’d never offered to tell her. And here was Matt, giving her this gift without expecting anything in return.

  Amy sighed.

  “What?” Arielle asked.

  “Nothing,” Amy said, determined not to put words to thoughts that she couldn’t even grasp. She pushed herself to standing and started collecting the tops to the pints of ice cream. “It would be heartbreaking for the rest of this ice cream to melt, don’t you think?”

  “Devastatingly,” Arielle agreed as she bent down to help.

  My roommate sat me down one day & gently told me that it was OK to cry... but could I please cry in private because the vet suspected the amount of my tears in the living room was the cause of her cat going bald from stress.

  ~Jen Ellision

  Arielle

  “I don’t even have workout clothes,” Arielle protested, trying to keep her voice in a complaint tone instead of a whine. Theoretically, she didn’t really care what anyone thought of how she looked. At least, that’s how she had been back home, when she was with Rachel. So proud, so sure of herself. So certain about who she was, and what she wanted.

  She didn’t even know why she had agreed to go to this damn class. Yes, she wanted to be friends with Amy, and obviously her infectious smile given over several pints of ice cream had convinced Arielle that self-defense class would be a great building block. Now she and Amy were standing outside the humungous Indiana Northern athletic complex. Arielle was wearing stretched out, baggy yoga pants, which she was pretty certain had at least one tiny hole in the butt. And the t-shirt mom had bought her when she’d gotten into Northern off the wait list. The soft, deep burgundy v-neck with distressed lettering was cute, at least.

  She sighed as Amy tugged her by the upper arm. “Just remember, you’re doing this because we’re in the Society. I need you.” Her face didn’t match her words—she grinned, as if mocking Arielle’s misery.

  “I don’t work out,” Arielle repeated for the fifteenth time since they left their dorm.

  “Just…try to do the moves. And maybe smile a little bit. You know, so people don’t think you’re completely miserable. Plus you have such a pretty face when you’re not scowling.” Amy beamed at Arielle, like that was supposed to be a compliment or something.

  “Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I have to smile,” Arielle grumbled.

  Amy rolled her eyes and pulled Arielle into a side hug. “Oh, Ari. I know.”

  “Well look who actually showed. I seriously was not expecting to see you.”

  Matt had a tenor voice that sounded almost musical when he talked. Arielle’s eyebrows tented up when she turned to see him. Rion’s nickname for him, ‘Freckles,’ was overkill—he definitely had them, but just a modest spattering across his cheeks. In fact, he had really great skin—it was fair, for sure, but he didn’t have a trace of acne, and that ruddy brown hair offset his brownish-green eyes perfectly. Even for a girl who wasn’t attracted to guys at all, Matt was attractive.

  That didn’t change the fact that Amy’s claim that she wasn’t attracted to Matt at all was so obviously bullshit. The closer he got, the bigger Amy’s smile grew, and her ‘hi,’ had a breathy quality. Her shoulders edged up, her head tilted to the side, and she giggled at least three times in one minute. He looked at her from under his eyelashes, pulled a nonexistent loose hair from her hoodie, and listened to her words like they were gospel.

  Their obvious infatuation with each other would have been disgusting if it wasn’t so damn adorable.

  Amy and Matt melted pretty quickly into small talk about a statistics professor they apparently shared—some paper, some bad joke the professor constantly made. All of a sudden, Arielle was a third wheel.

  Great.

  She followed them to the third floor of the rec center, then wandered over to the class schedule to figure out where the hell they were supposed to be going. This was some kind of martial arts, Amy had said—self-defense. Theoretically, feminist Arielle was all about it. Defending herself. Taking back the power.

  But real life Arielle had fallen down at the ballet barre, tripped over her own two feet at second grade soccer practice, and never gotten past the easiest moves in some yoga class her mom had begged her to take. Her stomach started to twist as she went down the list. Yoga…spinning…power core…Zumba? What the hell was that? There was no self-defense, no tae kwon do, no muy thai listed. No Krav maga, even. Oh, this last class had to be it.

  Cardio kickboxing? She shot a glance over at Matt, who noticed and started heading over to her. “Cardio kickboxing? Amy. Seriously. Sleep is my cardio. And I am serious
about that. So serious I have a t-shirt that says it.” Arielle had imagined self-defense class teaching her a few swift punches and kicks, no sweating involved.

  Amy glared at her. “Arielle. Seriously. I already signed you up. And paid for you. The instructor is expecting you.”

  Matt chimed in. “And I promised my mom that I was bringing two girls. I trust Amy and Amy trusts you and my mom trusts me, so you have to kickbox. See?”

  “What is the relationship here, exactly?” Arielle asked as they walked down the hall. The room Matt led them to was covered in thick gray mats and studded with huge punching bags. A pile of humungous rubber bands sat in one corner and a rack in the corner held a dozen wooden poles. This looked more like a torture chamber than an exercise studio.

  “My mom used to teach karate at a dojo before we moved to Chicago,” he explained, stepping out of his shoes and leaving them on a tray. The girls followed suit. Amy was watching him like every word he said came out of the goddamn Bible. Arielle’s mouth twisted. “So?”

  “So this girl, the one leading the class today, was in one of Mom’s classes, but she was a total failure at it. She stuck with it for awhile anyway, switched to MMA, and won some championship or something.”

  “I thought your mom was a pastor. She’s a karate teacher, too?” Amy asked.

  “No, my other mom is a karate instructor.”

  “You’re…adopted?”

  Arielle tried not to smirk. Poor Amy was so confused.

  Matt shook his head and smiled gently, like he was totally used to answering this question…one Arielle already knew the answer to.

  “Two moms. One is a pastor, the other is…well, let’s just call her an athletic entrepreneur. She owns a dojo, a yoga studio, and a women’s fitness center.”

  “Two moms,” Amy repeated, clearly trying hard to assemble all the puzzle pieces of Matt’s very interesting family life.

  “Yep. My moms are gay. Most of mom’s congregants think it’s pretty funny that her wife is a black belt. She’s even taught classes at the church.”

  Amy looked like someone had just told her that the earth was flat and losing a couple inches off the edge every day. “But I thought…I mean…for a pastor to…”

  “It’s okay, Ames,” Arielle said, chuckling as she pulled her sweatshirt off. “You’re living with one of them too.”

  “No, no, I just…seriously? A woman pastor? With a wife?” She didn’t look horrified, scared, or grossed out…more like her brain just needed some recalibrating.

  Matt laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mention it before.”

  “No, it doesn’t matter. I just…pictured your mom and dad. I’ve never met a female pastor, so I just assumed…”

  “You pictured meeting my folks?”

  “I didn’t stay that,” Amy said, concentrating way too hard on getting her own lace-up shoes off her feet.

  Arielle bent down to take her shoes off, and a shriek came from the other side of the room. “Matty!” A tall, muscular blur of a girl with shining black hair pulled back into a ponytail barreled across the mat and jumped into Matt’s arms. After a tight squeeze, she stepped back and grinned.

  And Arielle’s heart stopped. The squealing, hugging girl was Lauren.

  Not only was Lauren here, but she seemed to be Matt’s childhood friend. Which meant she was the one teaching this class.

  Which meant the girl that Arielle was slowly falling in love with was almost certainly going to be watching her fall on her ass in about five minutes.

  “Hey there! Geez, it’s good to have you here at Northern. How long has it been since I’ve seen you? You got so tall,” Matt said, standing on his tiptoes to try to gain some height on Lauren. Amy laughed.

  “Just a couple years, crazy.”

  “Nah, it’s been at least seven or eight. Look at you! I knew you were a champ, but geez. You’re buff.”

  “Well, you know how it is. If you want to be a fine physical specimen like myself, you have to eat your veggies. And kick ass at Nationals.”

  Jesus, Lauren’s smile was beautiful. Arielle’s stomach flipped and flopped and twisted into knots.

  “I’m going to show Amy all the equipment,” Matt said, motioning for Amy to follow him.

  “Be my guest,” Lauren said, finally turning and giving her full attention to Arielle.

  Arielle’s ears rang with a soft tinny strangeness when their eyes met, like the whole rest of the room, or the whole rest of the world for that matter, could just disappear and she wouldn’t care a bit.

  Lauren’s grin stretched wide as she stepped close to Arielle and said, “Hey. You found my class.”

  She looked so freaking happy about it that Arielle hated to tell her that she’d never been looking for her class, hated to explain the chain of connection between her and Amy, Amy and Matt, Matt and Lauren. And suddenly, with their eyes connected and Lauren’s gorgeous muscled shoulders just…out for her to look at…she couldn’t think of the words she would need anyway.

  After a couple seconds of baffled silence, though, Arielle had to say something. “I guess I did. I mean, it’s not like I was looking for it, but …”

  Lauren’s smile turned down just a bit, at the corners, and watching her go from happy to sad made Arielle’s heart twist again. “I mean, I wasn’t looking for you.”

  Now Lauren frowned.

  “No no no! That’s not what I meant. I mean, it is, but…oh, God…” Then, a gentle, cool hand rested on Arielle’s shoulder. She looked up and Lauren’s soft, understanding smile was back.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Lauren said softly, looking into Arielle’s eyes for a split second longer than she really had to. “I was starting to think I would only see you after class. I mean, I was happy you didn’t drop it after all, but, you know…”

  No. She didn’t know. She wanted so badly to know what Lauren was thinking, but she also really, really wanted to be able to just…be around her.

  Arielle would be lying to herself if she thought she’d stayed in the class for any reason other than Lauren. There was something about being close to her, the combination of the easy way she laughed, the strong, graceful way she held her body, her habit of calm, quiet listening with all her attention, like Arielle was the only other person in the world when they were together.

  Arielle refused to think of it as a crush. It wasn’t—not the head over heels, all-consuming feeling she’d had for Rachel. That was love. This was…something else. Something easier, but something less certain than Rachel, too. Like at any moment, Arielle would be happy to have Lauren around, but at the same time, she had no idea how Lauren felt about her.

  It was lovely and heart-pounding and happy and maddening all at once.

  After all, Arielle was too busy waiting for Lauren to grab her, passionately kiss her, and start pulling her shirt off to even start thinking about trying to be anything more than just friends.

  Jesus. She had to stop running all these thoughts in a loop. If she was going to manage that, she probably had to stop hanging out with Lauren, too. She really couldn’t imagine doing that. Not at all.

  When Lauren was around, Arielle didn’t feel like a tiny guppy in the huge ocean of Indiana Northern. Lauren didn’t make things better, exactly, or even easier, it was just that when Arielle was with her, she felt like she had finally found a place where she really fit.

  Could one single person be the same as a place? The same as a life? The same as home?

  She shook her head to bring her back to the moment. Lauren squeezed her shoulder, and Arielle tried to keep a straight face despite how heavenly it felt.

  “Matt!” Lauren called .

  “What’s up?” he said, hustling over to her from across the room where he’d been going over the equipment with Amy. As he walked, Amy’s eyes raked up and down his body like she was a hungry wolf and he was a piece of steak. Arielle tried to hide her amusement, even though Amy’s questioning look at her told her she wasn’t very successful.


  “Here’s the thing, Matty,” Lauren said. She jerked her head back toward the door. “Hattie did not do her research. Or my mom wasn’t listening to me when I told her about the class I got assigned to teach. This one is women’s only.”

  Arielle looked at the half-dozen other girls who had trickled into the room. They all eyed Matt like he was a humungous centipede—almost certainly not dangerous, but gross and unwanted anyway.

  “Seriously? It didn’t say that on the sign.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes. “Of course it didn’t. A couple of these girls are here because they have a history of violent relationships. Teaching them kickboxing empowers them. They don’t want their exes or whatever to be able to find them. So, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to partake of my brilliant instruction another time.”

  Matt’s mouth twisted in disappointment as Amy reached them. “What’s up?”

  “I can’t stay,” he said. “Girls only.”

  “Oh, no big deal,” Amy said. “We’ll just take a different class.”

  “I don’t teach any other ones,” Lauren said, frowning. “Maybe just tell Hattie you came and that I was amazing, as expected. The first one’s not a lie and the second, everyone already assumes.” Lauren beamed, and Arielle giggled at her cockiness.

  “True,” Matt said, ruffling the hair at the back of his neck. “Okay, so obviously I’ve gotta go. Ames, coffee after?”

  “No, no. I’ll go with you. I have work to do, anyway. And maybe you can give me some pointers on that bio professor.”

  Amy didn’t need pointers on biology class. Arielle didn’t know if she had a photographic memory or what, but she retained more information about single-celled organisms and the cellular structure of plants than Arielle could ever imagine learning.

  It was all she could do not to roll her eyes at Amy. They would be having a talk about this, though. Either she was lying to the Society about her crush on Matt, which completely defeated the purpose of meeting, or she was totally deluding herself. Either way, this wouldn’t end well. But, goddammit, Amy was already headed toward the door with Matt.