Chapter Fifty-Six
Adrienne was unusually quiet the next few days, and I was too immersed in my political science texts to notice. It wasn’t until a knock on the door and Sean waiting in the hallway that I looked up from my textbook.
“Are we meeting for supper later?” I asked.
“I’ll be at Sean’s.” She shut the door behind her.
I exhaled painfully, really missing her.
* * *
When Adrienne returned to the room that night, I was already settled in bed, about to go to sleep. “What’re you doing back? I thought you’d be at his place.”
“I couldn’t. I got class tomorrow.” She slipped into her FSU nightshirt, the one with football numbers on it.
“You go to class?” I joked, sliding under the covers.
“Shut up.”
When the lights were out, the room was quiet, and no one seemed to be breathing. If our thoughts could be heard, the noise would have cracked the walls. But no one said anything. An hour passed. Maybe two. I wasn’t falling asleep, but eventually I heard her soft, rhythmic breathing on her side of the room.
I pulled off my sheet and went over to her bed. I stroked her hair, watching her sleep. I smiled down at her, looking at the peaceful face, the only time she ever looked truly innocent. Then I bent down and kissed her forehead and, slowly, her cheek. Adrienne’s eyes opened, but she wasn’t startled; it was like she’d been awake the whole time. Then I gave her a soft kiss on the lips. That kiss led to another, her lips answering mine. It felt so easy, so…natural.
In the shower the next morning, I thought about what we’d done and how Adrienne seemed to want it too. They were only innocent kisses, I told myself, like a drug addict insisting she only looked at some heroin. I was so lost in thought I didn’t realize how long I’d been in the shower. I was blinded by the cloud of steam.
When I got back to the room wrapped up in my white cotton bathrobe, I saw Adrienne all ready for class, looking like she was waiting for me to come back.
“What happened last night?” Her face was expressionless.
I was startled. “Well, you were there.” I was scared she was going to tell me she’d been dreaming the whole time.
Adrienne grabbed her backpack, and the way she looked, I could tell she wanted to say something but didn’t.
I held her arm, stopping her before the door. “I miss you.” I touched the line of her jaw with my fingertips and before I reached her chin, she leaned down to kiss me. It was a kiss that told me she’d been very much awake last night. Our lips met again and again, as we moved backward, toward the bed…
“I missed you too.” She dropped her bag and wrapped her arms tightly around my waist, encircling me possessively. I didn’t mind.
We fell upon her bed, where I opened my robe, inviting her in. I couldn’t get enough. I craved the feel of her silky body against mine. The way she moved, the way her breasts felt so soft in my hands. It was pure desire, washing over me. Where I came from, all the teachings back home, were all lost on me. It was as though I was living a double life.
Time and space were lost in that little room until we realized the morning sun had changed to a hazy pink afternoon sun through the window.
She woke from a long, peaceful slumber. As soon as she opened her eyes, she looked at me. I watched her in the pink light.
“I missed Western Civ,” she said.
I started to laugh. “I’m sure you’re heartbroken.”
She smiled at me, holding my hand, watching our fingers intertwined. “It was just review. You can’t make me miss the test next week, though.”
“I’ll try to restrain myself.”
“You’re such a liar!” Adrienne exclaimed, slamming me with a pillow, then imitating me: “We can only be friends. I was just drinking…you liar!”
Of course I thought about how she said she “wasn’t queer,” but I decided not to bring it up. We laughed and playfully smothered each other with pillows.
* * *
That’s how it was for the rest of the winter. We were living in our own private, secret world, and no one else on the floor knew anything about it. Sean had stopped coming around, and I was starting to feel bolder about imagining my life in a new way. I still couldn’t imagine broaching the subject with my father, or my mother, for that matter. But here in the safety of our dorm room, nothing and no one else mattered. I didn’t have to think about my family or the reality waiting outside. I could just be. And I was starting to feel more empowered.
Sitting through my classes, I’d smile to myself just knowing I was going to see her face at the end of each day. It was really heaven on earth, something I’d never come close to experiencing in my careful life before, the life of a scared girl in a small Atlanta suburb.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Adrienne turned around, wearing a court jester hat. “You like?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I answered. “It’s definitely you.”
She offered me a hat. “Come on. It’s for the Mardi Gras party.”
“No,” I said firmly. “I don’t do hats. No one in my family does hats. It’s the shape of our faces or something. We look really weird in them.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’d like to meet your family sometime.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“You’d say they were uptight. You think everyone but you is uptight.”
“Because they are.” Adrienne laughed and took off the hat, running her hand roughly through her long hair. “Tell me you’re going to the party.”
“When is it?”
“Tonight.”
“I’ll think about it,” I stammered, feeling oddly jealous. Who would be at the party? I’d become accustomed to having her all to myself. But I had to relax and not become some possessive weirdo. I lowered my shoulders and took a deep breath. It was only a party. Maybe it was her history with boys, one boy in particular, that made me so ill at ease.
Next thing I knew, Carol burst into our room without knocking. “Hey, kiddo.” She plopped on my bed. We’d left the door unlocked, and Carol wasn’t much for formalities.
Adrienne glared at Carol like an overprotective grizzly.
“Carol, Adrienne. Adrienne, Carol.” I made the introductions, relishing Adrienne’s curiosity and apparent jealousy about Carol.
“Hey,” Adrienne said.
“Hey.” Carol took a drag off her cigarette, looking unimpressed. “I would’ve called,” she began, “but my phone’s busted.”
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Some film people are getting together later,” she said.
Bette Davis was smiling down on everyone. The tension in the room was palpable.
Adrienne looked at me, silently reminding me of my first party invitation.
“Where?” I asked.
“The beach,” Carol replied.
“That’s where ours is,” Adrienne said.
“Oh, well sure,” I said quickly. “I guess we’ll all be there.” A very diplomatic way to handle the situation, I thought.
“I doubt the film people will be hanging around the metalheads.” Carol had no filter at times. It would be safe to assume Adrienne didn’t like her much at all. So she did her own thing, sneering slightly while overhearing the conversation.
“I’m sure we can all hang out,” I kept repeating, trying to keep Carol calm and from saying anything too provocative. Both Carol and Adrienne had super hot tempers that should never be allowed in the same room—another reason why I was all about keeping the peace.
“If you think so,” Carol said sarcastically. “It’s gonna be real crowded tonight, too many people for my taste. But I’ll go if you go. They’re doing the Mardi Gras bullshit there.”
“Yeah, I’ll go.” I followed her to the door. “I’ll walk you out.”
In the hall, Carol glared at me. “I never see you anymore. Geez, I couldn’t say two words to you without Hawk Eye
s staring me down. What the fuck’s her problem?”
“We’re together now,” I said quietly. “Nobody knows, so don’t say anything.”
“You and metal chick? For real?” Carol wasn’t happy. She needed a minute on the couch in the lobby. “You’re kidding me.”
“No.” I took a seat next to her. “I don’t know why, but I sort of thought you’d be happy for me. At least I’m not confused about her feelings anymore.” I chuckled awkwardly.
“Right.” She seemed preoccupied. Something else was going on. “I don’t know. I guess in a twisted way, I’d hoped she’d be as messed up as I thought she was. Then you’d come running to me.”
“You wanted to be more than friends?” I asked.
Her cheeks reddened. She wouldn’t look at me. “I don’t know. I thought about it. Didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” Honestly, I had thought a few times about it, on those lonely nights in Carol’s room, the only place that had seemed welcoming when I was full of fear. “Rachmaninoff Concerto Number Two.”
“Huh?”
“You were playing that the first night I came over,” I said.
“I don’t remember, but sounds like something I’d play.”
“You’re the best friend I have,” I told her. “I don’t want to lose that.”
“Oh, c’mon.” She rose to her feet and wiped her hands on her extra faded jeans. “We don’t have to get dramatic. I’ll still be your friend. But I think she’s all wrong for you.”
“You’re probably right.” I smiled one of those dreamy smiles that Carol knew she couldn’t penetrate.
“Don’t let her mess with your head,” she warned.
Still smiling…
“Okay,” Carol said. “I got it. Promise me you’ll still talk to us little people at the party?”
I laughed. “Of course. You’re all my friends. I don’t like any of the girls she hangs out with anyway.”
“That’s a good sign,” she said sarcastically.
Before I could respond, she was out the door.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
At the Mardi Gras party, students gathered around a smoldering bonfire at a nearby beach, while a group of shirtless boys played volleyball. Some college kids, concealing their beers, sat together on the edges of lounge chairs that had been scooted together. Adrienne waved at her party crowd as she and I climbed down a steep sand dune. I always struggled to get traction in the sand and was one step away from falling on my butt. I was never what you’d call graceful in outdoor settings.
Nancy, one of Adrienne’s party friends, aimed a camera at us. “Say cheese!” she yelled.
Adrienne and I put our arms around each other and smiled big smiles with the bonfire flames shooting up behind us.
“Hey, how you doin’, girl?” Nancy was already a little drunk. She put an arm around Adrienne as all of us made our way over to the lounge chairs. “It’s been like forever!”
“I know!” Adrienne exclaimed. She opened the cooler nearby and immediately offered me a beer.
“No,” I replied sharply. “I don’t want one.”
She cracked open the can and took a swig, noticing Boyd seated among the partygoers.
“Crap,” I muttered, noticing him too. “I don’t want to go over there.”
“You’re such a diva.” Adrienne winked at me, handing me the can while she lit up a cigarette.
I noticed the flash of light from the tip of her cigarette against a backdrop of color-streaked sky, stripes of raspberry and orange sherbet over an ocean that, like me, was getting more agitated as the sun went down.
I kicked at the sand, already covering my flip-flops. “I’m not going over there.” I’m sure I sounded threatened because I was.
“So don’t.” Adrienne waved at some of her other party friends.
I didn’t really care. To me, Nancy, Becky and the others were a bunch of girls who liked to hang on each other and giggle and get as wasted as possible. I felt a bizarre satisfaction in knowing that Adrienne was the one I came here with tonight and the one she’d be leaving with. It didn’t matter if we had our separate social groups.
As it grew darker, the ocean disappeared, replaced by sounds of crashing waves. The sand was cooler and silky, brushing over my bare feet as I took off my flip-flops and tried to find Carol in the crowd. Smoke from the bonfire smothered the salty smell of the air, as I caught glimpses of faces in the flashes of light.
Suddenly there was Boyd’s wounded face. I remembered how I’d just run out of the apartment without a look back or another word. But he’d become too aggressive, and that memory tempered my guilt somewhat. He came closer. His hair was longer, frizzier, and his cheeks more sunken. He could have easily been shooting some drug; he looked as though he was wasting away.
“‘I really want to do it!’” he mocked. “‘Of course I want to!’” His high-pitched, terrible imitation of my southern voice made me sick to my stomach.
I stood my ground, holding my head high. I felt strong. And besides, we were surrounded by people. He’d never catch me alone again. “Boyd,” I said sternly. “Some things aren’t meant to be, like you and me.” Then I resumed walking.
But he followed. “There never was a ‘you and me.’” He climbed over the small hills of the beach unsteadily. “Was there?”
For a moment in the dark, I saw pain on his face. He lashed out at me because he didn’t know what to do with his hurt. I had given him hope I shouldn’t have.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It was my fault. I…had feelings for someone else, and I was trying to get over…him.”
“Huh.” That seemed to make it worse. “You’re just a cocktease!” he shouted to save his pride or ego or whatever else he was clinging to besides his beer.
I tried to be kind, I reasoned. At least I tried. “Whatever.” I moved on, coldly leaving him in the shadows.
Still searching for Carol, I turned, and over my shoulder I saw Adrienne on the edge of a lounge chair, laughing with Nancy and Sean. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Every inch of my skin felt cold in spite of being so near to the bonfire.
“Hey, kiddo.” It was Carol, standing a little too close to the soaring flames.
I motioned her over. “Let’s get away from this, okay? It’s too…fiery.”
She laughed at my description, and we moved closer to the water and darkness. Only a sliver of moon lit our way, and it took a while for our eyes to adjust.
“How’s your girlfriend?” Carol asked.
“Fine, I guess.”
“You guess? Where is she?”
I didn’t want to tell her. She’d have all kinds of rude things to say. I had a persistent, sickening feeling that I might be a character in a story where I was the only one living the story. One-sided feelings, one-sided thoughts. Even in our most intimate moments, how honest was Adrienne? She sometimes seemed like she was holding something back. Could I really trust her? When I gestured to the lounge chairs illuminated in bonfire light, Carol zeroed in immediately on the fact that Adrienne was now talking to her former boyfriend. And I had a strange sensation, wondering if we really would be leaving this party together.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” I insisted.
“You sure about that?”
Sean took off his shirt, inching closer to Adrienne. She was in her party mood, her charismatic smile drawing in everyone around her. She seemed to be at the center of the group the moment she arrived. She gulped down another beer, apparently enjoying the attention.
Without his shirt on, Sean was even more repugnant. Never mind that my visceral hatred of him sprang from deep-rooted jealousy, I also just plain didn’t like him. I sensed something sinister, maybe it was his angry eyes. Even when he was trying to be nice, his eyes still looked like those of something evil, dark and empty. I’d seen it before in some guys. And I saw it in him. They were entitled to everything—and everyone. His friends had the same look in their eyes, and several of them were ou
t tonight, looking for girls to take to one of their private parties. I knew the scene all too well.
I made sure that Adrienne caught a glimpse of me and Carol walking together by the shore. She glanced in my direction, but she didn’t leave her party crowd. Carol and I took a long walk, away from the noise and the lights. Everything was calmer under the moonlight, with nothing but the sound of waves tumbling over our feet.
“I shouldn’t have come,” I said. “I’m really not up for this.”
“All the dumbasses she hangs out with?”
I smiled. Her bluntness sometimes made me feel better. “I guess.”
“It’s okay. The film crowd is down this way, unless I lost my sense of direction, which is entirely possible.” She looked around, unable to tell if anyone was up ahead.
As we walked, we heard sounds of something going on, voices getting louder, until we could tell there was some kind of fight. Then an unbelievable scene suddenly unfolded right in front of us.
A gang of boys, some I recognized as friends of Sean’s, were beating up Andrew and kicking sand in his face. They were wearing jester hats from the Mardi Gras parade that afternoon. “Fuckin’ faggot!” I heard them yell. They were the same ones who had been waiting outside the Cobra Club that night.
“Stop it!” I screamed, running at them full speed. I nearly halted when I came face-to-face with the tallest one, who was standing on the edges of the gang, watching in amusement. “Get away from him!” I shouted.
Carol tried to pull me back. “You gotta be careful with these fuckers.”
But I felt brave; I didn’t care if they carried knives or if this was a secluded enough part of the beach where they might feel like they could get away with anything. It didn’t matter. All I knew was what was right and what was wrong. In the nighttime light, it was really clear.
Hurricane Days Page 26
