“No dice!” said Hosannah, making a production out of it. I laughed at her audibly now. “You think I’m funny?” she asked teasingly, hands lifted, fingers giving a ‘come at me’ motion.
“Yes,” I admitted bashfully, looking away slightly. I had a tendency to break eye contact when I felt a little embarrassed.
“Good,” said Hosannah. “I’ve got a solid five minutes of material on the differences between freshmen and everybody else.”
“What?” I said, trying to hide my smile. “What are you talking about?”
“Stand up comedy,” said Hosannah with a laugh. “Like, have you seen the way these freshmen eat in the cafeteria?”
“Stop,” I said, giggling, holding my fingers over my mouth.
“They eat so much food,” continued Hosannah. “It’s like they’re bulking up now so when the student loan bills come due, they have the fat reserves to skip a meal.”
“Okay!” I said, laughing louder. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Thank you,” said Hosannah, bowing her head slightly and grinning.
“You should take your act on the road,” I said.
“You think?” she said sarcastically. “I’m sure audiences in Peoria are champing at the bit to hear comedy about freshmen college students.” I laughed again.
We laughed a little bit more together, our chuckles each fading into content sighs. And then we gave each other silent smiles. I gazed at Hosannah happily as we stood there, looking her up and down. She was athletic and pretty and I couldn’t help but notice that she was braless underneath her tank top, the little bumps of her nipples poking against the cotton fabric. I closed my eyes and looked off once I realized what I was doing.
“Hey!” she said, interrupting my guilt to change the subject. “I see you’ve brought a book with you.”
“Yeah,” I said, first looking down to the book in my hand and then raising it up to show her. “I thought you might like to read it. It’s a book my mother wrote. She’s a writer and an English teacher.”
“Really?” asked Hosannah, furrowing her brow and taking the book from me. She looked down into it. “Wait, your mother is Aislin Blake? I know her.”
“You do?” I asked.
“Yeah,” said Hosannah. “She teaches at Western, right? I had looked into their English program when I was applying to schools and I read one of her books then.”
“Weird,” I said, nervously laughing.
“If your mother teaches at Western, why did you come to State?” asked Hosannah. “You could have had your mother as a professor!”
“Well, one, that would be kind of strange,” I said. “And two, both my parents went to State, as did my older brother, so it’s kind of a tradition thing now.”
“Thanks,” said Hosannah, softly smiling, waving the book at me. “I’ll read this. I remember liking that other book I read of hers. I can’t remember the title, though.”
“It’s okay,” I said, shrugging.
“Natasha Blake,” mused Hosannah. “Your mother is Aislin Blake.”
“Yep,” I said, shrugging, probably looking dopey.
“Is your mother cool?” asked Hosannah, setting the book down on her desk, and then walking toward her bed. She didn’t have a couch or anything in her room, so she sat crosslegged on her bed and motioned for me to follow which I did dutifully.
“I guess,” I said, crawling up onto her bed and sitting next to her, legs stretched out, feet hanging off the side, as my back rested on some pillows against the wall. “My parents are all right, a little conservative sometimes even though my mother’s a writer. Irish Catholics,” I said.
“Ah,” said Hosannah knowingly. “Yes, that’s another thing we have in common. Have you gotten over the whole guilt thing yet?”
“No,” I said timidly.
“College will help with that,” she said. “Hey,” Hosannah said, interrupting our conversation. She picked up her laptop from the bed and held it up. “I was gonna watch something on here but we could just talk. What do you think?” Hosannah leaned over and put the laptop on her nightstand to get it out of the way.
“Yeah, talking’s fine,” I said, unscrewing the cap from my water bottle and taking a sip, a little bit of it spilling down my chin.
“Watch yourself,” she said with a laugh. Hosannah reached over and wiped the bead of water from my chin. I couldn’t help but freeze as she did this and look into her blue eyes. I suddenly felt cornered and concerned, not sure what to think or feel. All I knew is that I felt anxious and stimulated, like I’d had a little too much coffee.
“Thanks,” I said slowly, recapping my water and dropping it down onto her bed.
“Sorry,” said Hosannah. “I mean, I didn’t mean to do that. Just, kinda, habit… or something.”
“It’s okay,” I said quietly, averting my eyes, trying not to be nervous.
“What’s your story, Blake?” said Hosannah with a coy glance. “How did you get me to agree to let you hang out with me? I usually don’t hang with the freshmen ALOHAers outside of my job.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Should I go?”
“No,” said Hosannah, almost interrupting me. “It’s just… I normally keep to myself,” she said. “And somehow, I don’t know, you caught me at a particularly friendly time or something. Or maybe…” she said, trailing off in thought.
I looked over at her and tried to figure out what she was thinking. She just looked back at me with a slant in her eye, like she was suspicious of me, like I had some sort of secret I was hiding from her. Which, you know, I did have a secret I was hiding from her. The truth was, I was totally infatuated with Hosannah and I wanted so badly to know more about her, to befriend her, to see what it was that made her so alluring. And since you’re along with me for this ride, well, I can admit to you that I felt for Hosannah what I imagined Whitney was feeling for Justin. There was some sort of hysteria building up inside of me.
“Maybe?” I said, trying to follow her train of thought but not look too guilty.
“Maybe you’re a hypnotist,” she said seriously. We looked at her each in silence for a moment. Hosannah serious, me confused. And then she brightened up her face and leaned toward me, gleefully pinching my side.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, folding over and smacking at her hand. “Hey, cut it out! I’m ticklish!”
“I know what’s going on,” she said happily, pulling her hand back from me and crossing her arms. “I’m flattered,” said Hosannah, scooting off her bed and standing back up.
“What?” I asked with a hint of confusion.
Hosannah just let a knowing smile move across her face, standing there looking at me sitting on her bed.
“Let’s get to know each other a little better,” she said finally. “What do you think?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Okay.”
Hosannah began to slink around her small dorm room in a circle, sliding a foot and then stopping, sliding the opposite foot and stopping, her skirt waving with her legs as they moved. Her hair had started to dry out more, though it inspired a damp spot on the back of her tank top. I could see the thoughtfulness in her face as she moved. Something in her demeanor had changed since she proclaimed that she “knew what was going on.” But I didn’t know what she meant. I just figured I’d go along for the ride.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Hosannah asked with a bit of tact. She looked at me from the corner of her eye, a bit critical, a bit skeptical.
“No,” I said quietly, feeling a little ashamed. I started to wonder if my relationship with Hosannah would turn out just like my relationship with Whitney. Mixed with that, Hosannah’s question really brewed up some intense feelings inside of me. I was excited by her and whatever possibilities came along with her, not about boys and all that. I felt confused by her question, like I had misinterpreted something somewhere.
“Hmm,” Hosannah mused. She wandered over to a mirror attached to her wall and checked out her hair. Reaching behind he
r head, she began to loosely braid it as she maintained a thoughtful visage. “Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked, almost absentmindedly, as she came to the end of her loose braid and secured it with a small elastic band from her wrist.
“I don’t know,” I said. I could feel my heart thumping hard.
“Ah ha,” she said, turning from the mirror quickly, her damp braid bouncing, a grin on her face. I couldn’t help but adore her in that moment. Her face so fair and slight, hair flat and parted and pulled back, her tank top form-fitting and giving me an idea of what was going on underneath. Hosannah was just about the prettiest girl I’d ever seen.
“I’m a little confused, Hosannah,” I squeaked.
“Did somebody tell you I was a lesbian?” she asked as she sauntered back across the room, getting closer to me. “Is that why you came down to talk to me?”
“No,” I said. “No, I honestly had questions about the trip.” I could feel the anxiety deep inside me, the drum beating so loud, and the excitement from being put on the spot made my palms slightly sweaty. My thighs felt like they were quivering. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so much excitement.
“You’re cute,” said Hosannah as she stood in front of me. She lowered her hands and lightly placed them atop my socked feet. “Do you think I’m cute?”
“Mm hmm,” I said quietly, nodding, our eyes locked together.
“Are you nervous?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Don’t be,” said Hosannah with confidence. “If you’re not ready to talk about this kinda stuff yet, I understand,” she said, giving my toes a little squeeze. “But if you do want to talk, just know that I’m a safe person to talk with. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
“I like your hair,” said Hosannah, adroitly changing the subject. “It’s gotta be dyed, right?”
“Yeah,” I said with a sense of relief. I brought a hand up to my hair and ran my fingers through it. “I’m a redhead anyway, but I like this darker color of red more than my natural color.”
“It suits you,” she said. “It’s pretty.”
“Thank you.”
There was something incredibly sensual about the conversation between me and Hosannah and it only really came about when she began to figure me out. Her tenderness was apparent to me, and welcomed, and although I felt a strange sense of what I can only term as arousal, I also felt very reserved and enclosed, like my body wanted one thing and my nervous mind another. We talked casually for a little while longer, discussing classes and books, our likes and dislikes, and we laughed together. Hosannah was able to pull me out of my shell and as we talked further I could sense myself really growing close with her. She was a sweet person, loving and dear, and I felt some kind of gravitational pull toward her that I’d never felt with anyone else before.
“So I’ll walk you to class tomorrow morning,” she said as the two of us moved toward her dorm room door. It was getting late and I knew I had to get to bed. “I’ll be walking by Berkley Hall on my way to class, so it’ll work out perfect.”
“Great,” I said, standing next to the door. Hosannah reached around me and pulled the door open to let me out.
“I’m really happy to get to know you better,” she said, stepping toward me and wrapping her arms around me. Reflexively, I brought my arms up and returned her hug. I felt warm and fulfilled, sighing softly as I cradled against her.
“Me too,” I said. “Thanks Hosannah.”
“No problem,” she said. As we raised our heads up from the hug, Hosannah quickly leaned in and gave me a peck on the cheek, leaving a soft, wet imprint that went cool almost immediately. For a moment, I could only focus on the feeling of desire I felt after receiving that kiss. It felt good. Oh God, it felt good.
“Okay,” I said, the nervousness returning. “See you tomorrow morning.”
“Good night, Tasha,” she said with an ardent smile.
*
I had a very difficult time sleeping that night, unable to get Hosannah off my mind. There was something inside me, some kind of fire, that tried to convince me that I should have stayed longer in Hosannah’s room, that I should have gotten more physical with her. It was a very different feeling for me. It reminded me of the way I sometimes felt for one of my good friends back home. Even though Tiffany and I were always just close friends, there was always this lingering feeling inside of me telling me that I should kiss her. I never did, of course, as Tiffany had a boyfriend, and I never told her the way I felt. But those feelings that I had grown used to when hanging out with Tiffany were similar to what I was feeling for Hosannah.
Physical lust. I guess that’s the easiest, albeit somewhat crass, way to describe it. It was this kind of weird tingly feeling, a bodily desire, a need to be close to her. I mean, it wasn’t just some sex thing. Though that was certainly part of it — as far as I knew anyway, as I was quite inexperienced in that department. And honestly, I was kind of sad about being inexperienced sexually. I know that it happens at different times for different people, but a lot of my friends at home came of age while I just got left in the dust. I just didn’t know anybody like me, anybody who felt like I felt, and I think that’s what stuffed me further into my shell as I got older.
But I also felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. A sense that all of this pent up sexual energy could soon be released. I didn’t know how to make that happen exactly, I didn’t know how to navigate this uncharted territory, but I was thrilled that maybe Hosannah could show me the way. I had wanted to vocalize to her how I felt, but the words just wouldn’t come out. I hated that I held so tightly to this anxiety. It was totally at odds with what I wanted.
That next morning I had a quick breakfast in the caf’, showered, and got my stuff together in my backpack for my morning class. Throughout my morning routine, I’d missed Whitney every step of the way. She had an 8AM that morning, so our schedules were off. But as I was getting ready to leave the room and go meet Hosannah, Whitney strolled in through our door and her face brightened when she saw me.
“Hey Tash!” she said as she entered, tossing her bag down on her desk chair. “You came in late last night.”
“Yeah, sorry,” I said, putting a book in my backpack and then zipping it up. “I didn’t wake you up did I?”
“No,” she said. “You were quiet.”
“I should have texted you or something,” I said. “I lost track of time.”
“You were hanging out with that Hosannah girl?” asked Whitney, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” I said. “She’s got a single upstairs.”
“Hmm,” said Whitney, nodding along with the conversation. She traipsed further into the room until she neared the couch under the loft, plopping down into the cushions. “Is she cool?”
“Yes,” I said. “She’s super cool.”
“Natasha,” said Whitney with a serious look on her face. “I know we’re relatively new friends,” she said. “I know we’re just college roommates that got put together by the randomness of the universe.” She looked thoughtful and poised.
“I’m happy that we’re roommates,” I said. “I’m glad we got put together.”
“But I’m saying, you know, we’re new and maybe you find it hard to really trust me,” said Whitney.
“I don’t know,” I said in a low voice.
“I just want to let you know,” she went on. “You can totally trust me. I’m cool. I’m accepting,” Whitney said with a tender smile.
“All right,” I said.
We both remained quiet for a moment, each waiting for the other to speak.
“All right,” said Whitney finally.
“I’m gonna go to class,” I said. “I’ll catch you a bit later.”
“Cool,” said Whitney. “I’m always here, Tasha.”
Walking down the hall, my backpack slung over my shoulder, I thought about what Whitney had said. I hated playing like I was so naive. I knew what she was trying to say. I j
ust wish I had been strong enough to open up to her. I really didn’t know what I was worried about. She was totally trustworthy, totally somebody I could be honest with. Our friendship grew very fast and even though we lived in different worlds, I definitely felt like Whitney was someone I could tell my secrets to.
Pushing through the backdoor of Leopold Hall, I walked out into a beautiful September morning. It was still warm, the last remnants of summer, and the sun beamed down on me giving me a revitalized dose of energy. A little black squirrel hopped across my path as I ambled down a thin walkway, making my way around Kettering Hall. Kettering and Leopold were attached by their basements and by the cafeteria, though the inhabitants of Kettering weren’t associated with us ALOHA students.
As I neared the front parking lot of Kettering, I saw Hosannah in jeans and a t-shirt, leaning against a bike rack, looking down into her phone. I suddenly felt really happy, like goofy happy, and I just wanted to giggle. But I kept my composure, picked up my pace, and bounced down the walkway toward my new friend.
Looking up from her phone as I approached, Hosannah grinned slyly to me with big brown tortoiseshell sunglass over her eyes. She held her arm out wide like she was inviting me to come in for a hug, and without thinking too much more about it I fell into her, sliding my arms around her waist.
“Hey you,” she said, pulling me against her tightly and pressing her head against mine for a moment. After a few beats, we released each other and she stood up from her lean against the bike rack and straightened her shoulders.
“Hi Hosannah,” I said abashedly.
“Are you ready to get walking?”
“I am,” I said.
“Let’s do it,” said Hosannah, beginning her stride.
The two of us walked very close together as we moved down the concrete walkway among the many tress, their leaves just starting to change color as fall approached. Campus was bustling with students on their way to class, the air was fresh, the day bright. I was so happy that I’d chosen to come to State. It was a farm college with a huge campus, but it was such a pretty and secluded environment. The campus was its own world.
Dormitory Dearest: A Sweet Lesbian Romance Page 3
