by Kat Fletcher
After the heat, the cool of the water feels wonderful. She turns onto her back so we’re facing one another, but even that way she’s a better swimmer and keeps just out of my reach until we’re in over our heads and she relents and lets me catch her. I swim up and we tread water lightly, letting ourselves bob up and down in the gentle undulations of the waves.
“Sarah?” she says, her voice serious and soft as she can make it and still be heard over the sounds of the waves.
“Yeah,” I nod.
“I’m like really glad we met.”
“So am I,” I reach out and take her hand under the water. We try to tread water one armed for a few minutes until we miss a stroke at the wrong moment and a wave goes over our faces and we let go with a laugh.
“I’m sorry if I gave you a hard time the other day, pushing to find out if you were gay. I thought you were cute and I caught a vibe, even the first night. Well, the way you were looking at me.”
“I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t you. Then I saw the rainbows.”
“Dork,” she smirks, then reaches out and squeezes my hand again and swims back toward the beach.
We towel off while we bask in the hot sun, then crawl under the cool shade of the tent. This close to Rach, I’m suddenly and vividly aware of how little of my body the two-piece covers and I sling the white shirt around my shoulders.
“So today is my turn,” she says. “How long have you known?”
“Forever?” I muse. “At least since junior high school.”
“Do you friends know?”
“As of two days ago, yeah.”
“Because of me?” she asks, her voice clearly amused.
“Maybe.” I say and rub my foot against hers, trying to pinch with my toes.
“They’re cool with it?”
“Well, Justin’s gay. I told you that. And Sierra had already figured it out and was really psyched. They don’t know that we are, well, whatever we are. I have like a million messages from them.”
“Am I going to meet them when we go home?”
I smile and gasp a little. “Yeah. Definitely.”
“You sounded weird there for a sec,” she says, curiously.
“Well. I was hoping, but I didn’t know for sure you wanted this to keep going on when we got home.”
“It better keep going. I really like you Sarah. I’m not bored or something. You’re the next town over. We both have licenses. Though I have another month until I can drive with other people in the car, but I can at least come over or meet you places or whatevs.”
“The whole not driving with people is so dumb,” I say. “When we first got licenses, Justin and I both had jobs at this restaurant and I couldn’t give him a ride home from work. Instead, it was two cars and driving alone. We hit our six months a while ago, so at least I don’t have to deal with that anymore.”
“It’s because boys do stupid things,” she says.
“Yeah,” I intertwine my fingers with hers, “boys screw everything up.”
“Except your friend Justin.”
“Oh yeah,” I laugh, “he’s okay. Actually, he’s kind of a terrible driver.”
“I’ll remember that,” she says.
I pull out a book and she pulls out her Kindle. “You’re going to have to tell me the names of some of those books. The girl-girl ones.”
“Sure. Have you told your parents? They’re probably going to wonder why you’re reading them.”
“No,” I say with a sigh. “I got to work on that one.”
“I haven’t told my parents about us either. Coming out. It’s not as bad as you think and I think it’ll be okay. Like I said the other day, if they were all haters about it, they wouldn’t be setting you up to hang out for two weeks with this scary dyke girl.”
“You’re not scary.”
Rach sits up, “Damn. Then I’m not doing it right. I’m supposed to be scary. It’s in the lesbian manual.”
“Can I get that as an e-book too?”
“Definitely,” she leans toward me and our lips meet. After a few hours of reading and another swim, we head back to the house. This time Rach lets me carry the umbrella thingie.
* * *
“Have a nice time at the beach? I hope you’re being careful about keeping the sunscreen on,” my mom says as we walk in looking for lunch.
“Yes, Mom,” I pout. “Is there anything for lunch.”
“There’s a car and a thousand restaurants if you want to join me.”
Rach and I look at each other. I kind of want to be alone with her, but getting some real food instead of a quick sandwich sounds kind of good too.
“That would be great Mrs. Fisher. Just give me ten minutes to change and get some money,” Rach says, taking the lead.
“Yeah. Sounds great, Mom,” I kick in.
Rach and I stand awkwardly for a few seconds. I know it’s just running back to her cottage, but I want to take her hand or kiss her or something before she goes. I even think about it for a minute, but I’m not crazy. My mom would have a heart attack. In the end, she gives me a little wave and I return it.
I go up to my room and rinse off in the shower and leave the swimsuit drying. I need to clean up, but at least the tiny two-piece should dry quickly, even in the moist seaside air. Every time I step into it, my bedroom seems like more of a mess. Or maybe I just want it to be clean for Rachel sleeping over tonight. That thought, the very idea of her staying the night, sends a shiver through me. I’m not sure whether it’s excitement or nervousness. Maybe a little terror? Looking through my clothes, I also need to do laundry. There’s a little machine down in the kitchen, thank goodness. The last time we came to Cape, we spent a day in the laundromat. If spending a week doing boring things with my parents was boring, washing clothes while we were supposed to be on vacation was the ultimate in boring.
Watching the clothes go round with Rach doesn’t sound that terrible though. Neither does anything else if you add the words “with Rach” onto the end.
I have a red peasant shirt and a tank. I decide to go for that and my last clean pair of jeans. They’re kind of loose and schlubby, but I feel like that goes with the shirt. Checking myself out in the mirror, once I have my hair back in order, I don’t look half bad.
Rach is already there when I get down and my mom grabs the keys.
“Where’s Dad?” I ask.
“He’s two hundred pages into a detective novel. I thought we’d have it be a girls’ lunch out.”
“Sure,” I nod. “Where are we going?”
“There’s a place in the center of town that Trip Advisor said is good. They make their own bread and use local ingredients. Is that okay? Rachel?”
“I’ll eat anything,” she says and my mind goes there, making me suppress a giggle.
“Okay then!” my mom says and we head to the car.
I know it’s hopeless, but I have to try. “Can I drive?”
“Sure,” she says, hands me the keys, and gets in back.
I stand fingering the keys as Rach gets into the front passenger door. They’re purely symbolic; it’s one of the push-button start models. As long as they’re somewhere close to the car, it will go. Doesn’t matter. It feels good to have them handed to me anyway. I stick them in my purse, get in, and start the SUV up.
“Don’t forget to adjust the mirrors,” my mom kicks in unhelpfully.
“I know Mom,” I whine. Rach looks over at me, clearly amused. “And you stop smirking,” I say and give her an affectionate poke on her arm.
* * *
When we step into the restaurant, the scent of fresh bread hits me and I’m instantly starving. The place is great. I have no idea how my mom chose it because it’s not the kind of quaint old-fashioned place she seems to want to go to on Cape Cod. It’s in a little storefront and the walls and old wooden trim around the windows are painted in contrasting bright colors. The tables are mismatched, but have the same bright paint job. The best part is
they’ve got a huge rainbow painted on one wall surrounding a blackboard with the specials.
“Your kind of place,” I say giving a nudge to Rach and nodding toward the rainbow. She raises an eyebrow back and laughs.
“I don’t think I’m alone on the rainbow front. Am I?” she raises an eyebrow. My mom seems oblivious, but I feel a little moment of panic before Rach takes pity on me and motions toward a waitress. It’s not how short her hair is or the ink on her arms. There’s a vibe and I know right away. Somehow it feels different seeing her. Something inside of me has changed and I’m now thinking of her as one of us, not one of them.
“Isn’t this beautiful?” my mom says after we sit at a table in the front.
“It’s funky,” Rach says, nodding her head and leaning back in the chair. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“Well I’m very glad you could come. You’ve been keeping Sarah company.”
Wow, Mom. Way to make me sound like I’m eight years old and she’s babysitting me. Apparently Rach has the same thought because she gives me a little glance of bemused pity.
“We’ve been having a good time,” I say. “Rach is going to stay over tonight so we can watch the new Doctor Who episode. Is that okay?”
“As long as it’s okay with Carol and Jim.”
“It will be,” Rach assures her.
“So are you going to be a senior as well?”
“Yes. I go to Valley,” Rach replies. She’s very polite and I have this thought of every teen movie where the girl’s date is talking to her parents and being so respectful. It’s weird because it seems like it clashes with her usual personality. It doesn’t seem forced or weird though. She’s still Rachel, only maybe more the Rachel I’m coming to know now.
“Do you know what colleges you’re applying to?” my mom asks.
“My mom wants me to apply to Harvard and Stanford, so I guess there.”
“Well, you can’t do much better than that,” my mom says, giving me a glance as if I’m some kind of underachiever.
“I’m not going to get into either,” Rach says, not sounding particularly disappointed. “I’m thinking of Colorado or Oregon or something. Something different.”
“Seriously?” I blurt out. “I so want to live in Portland.”
“Yeah, am I right?” Rach nods.
My mom looks defeated. She went to Smith and I know she hopes I’ll go too. I can probably get in, but I want to get away from New England. I want to see some other part of the country. Live in a city instead of a little town. Of course part of moving away was going to be coming out without my parents around. That isn’t going to wait. I really want to hold Rach’s hand right now. I don’t know if I’ll talk to them here or when we go back home, but unless Rachel dumps me, I can’t put off telling them or I’ll lose my mind.
The cute waitress with the green streaked hair comes over to our table. “Welcome to Artos, what can I get you ladies?” she says looking first at me.
“I think I’d like the chicken sandwich,” I say.
“What kind of bread would you like?”
I have absolutely no idea and scrutinize the menu. I don’t even know what half the types are, so I opt for the easiest. “French baguette?”
I cringe at the question in my voice, but the waitress smiles at me, taking it in stride. “Great and for you?” she turns to Rachel.
“The fried clam roll on flatbread.”
“You and the clam thing,” I say, nudging her, maybe a little too affectionately. The waitress gives us an amused and knowing expression. For a second I wonder if I’m going to be outed right here at the table, but she just writes the order on her pad.
“And I’d like the four-cheese grilled cheese on the ciabatta,” my mom finishes our order.
“Would you like tomato on that? We have local sweet yellow and an heirloom beefsteak.”
“Oh, beefsteak tomato sounds so good. And could we get a basket of fries to share?”
“Sure. They’re hand-cut and from a farm in Yarmouth. Anything to drink?”
“Root beer,” Rach and I say together.
“That sounds nice. Make it three,” my mom adds.
The waitress brings our root beers quickly and we all give them a taste. “Oh, that’s so good,” my mom says. “I love coming to Cape Cod. It reminds me of simple old-fashioned things.”
I cringe. She’s started on the Cape Cod thing again. Next we’ll be looking at a lighthouse or buying something with a fisherman or a clam on it.
“Rachel, are you having a good time?” she asks.
“Yeah. I’m having a great time. Mostly thanks to Sarah. It’s good to have someone to hang out with.”
I can feel the flush in my cheeks. There’s a whole line of thought that I don’t want to go into right now, so I change the subject back to the not-quite-as-fraught-with-danger subject of our impending college choices. “So Rach, you were thinking of Oregon? Have you ever been to Portland?”
“No. I read a book set in the city. It’s about this girl who works in a coffee shop and she meets this hot shot lawyer chick and they fall in love. But it’s really about how the lawyer figures out there’s more important things than money and her career. It made Portland sound cool, like a place where you just live and enjoy life. I think that’s a lot more me than Harvard. I read that and decided to check out schools. There’s a public university in Portland, but the big university is in Eugene, which also sounds cool.”
My mom nods, taking that all in when our waitress arrives with food and the conversation lags as we tear into it. Everything is amazing and I’m kind of loving the whole day so far. I don’t think I’ve ever had bread that tasted like this. It’s rich and earthy and crisp all at once.
When we’re done, my mom excuses herself to use the ladies room.
“I don’t believe your mom brought us to a gay-owned restaurant,” Rach says, her voice low, but amused.
“Is it?” I scan the room. The waitress, the rainbow. Now I notice the older woman making sandwiches. She’s about my parents’ age, but she couldn’t be more different. Her hair is slung back in a messy ponytail and she’s not wearing any makeup. There’s a couple of other women working and no guys and it’s like my vision shifts and I’m pretty sure she’s right.
“What did I tell you,” Rach says as I look around and she puts her hand over mine on the table. It’s warm and sends a pleasant shiver through me, but I can’t help myself and glance at the restroom, terrified for no apparent reason that my mom will see. It doesn’t stop me from letting our fingers intertwine, at least for a brief moment. Then I see the waitress heading for our table and I pull my hand back.
“Don’t let me interrupt you,” she says, giving us a broad knowing grin. “Just getting those dishes out of your way.”
* * *
After lunch, Rachel needs to go home. As we get out of the car and say our farewells, I want to grab her and smother her with goodbye kisses, but I’m afraid my mom can pick up on something going on, so instead I probably overcompensate with an awkwardly casual dismissal.
Back inside, I pay some attention to my phone. I still haven’t told Justin and Sierra that Rach and I are on instead of off. Ignoring their calls and messages the whole day was a bad idea because there’s like dozens of instant messages, failed video requests, and even a few old school phone calls. I feel bad for ignoring them, but I can’t deal. As the morning’s gone on, the messages get more frantic. They probably think I’m wading into the surf to drown myself or something.
I stalk over to the door and peer down. I can hear my parents talking in the den and I slowly close my door, trying to keep it as quiet as possible, then lie down on my bed, set up a new chat and drag Justin and Sierra to it.
“About time,” Sierra’s face appears on the screen, sitting in a car. “You left us hanging Sarah. What is going on? Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. Hold on, let’s see if Justin answers.”
“He’s not going to,” the
camera jerks around and I can see Justin at the wheel of the car. “Don’t text and drive and all that stuff.”
“Hi Sarah,” I hear his voice as the screen swings back to Sierra, “now spill. What’s up?”
“That’s kind of a long story,” I bite my lip. Yesterday I was just so happy that she actually liked me, but now that I have to explain the whole thing, it’s sort of embarrassing.
Sierra senses blood in the water. “We’re on our way back from Worcester. We have plenty of time. Wait. Let me get this on the car speakers so we can both hear.”
I squirm for a few moments on the bed until her slightly echoing voice says it’s set up. “Well I kind of got things wrong after kissing her. I sort of, well, sort of ran out of the room before she could say anything.”
Sierra shakes her head on the screen and I can hear Justin laughing out loud in the background. “She was surprised, not upset,” I add. “It was a huge mess.”
“Are you serious?” Sierra asks, a broad smile coming over her face. “You never even waited for her to say anything?”
“Yeah. Stupid, huh?”
“So, have you guys figured it out?” Justin asks.
“Yeah, she came over last night and we talked and…”
Sierra breaks out laughing again. “Oh my God, you are so into her. I could see that smile when you said she came over. Justin, you should see her. Out little girl is in love.”
I can feel myself blushing and wonder if the chat is good enough for them to see that. “Guilty. I’m sort of completely into her. We talked a lot and kissed a lot too. This morning we went to the beach, then my mom took us out to lunch.”
“You told your mom? No way!” Sierra shrieks in surprise.
“Way to go!” Justin adds from off screen.
“No! My mom doesn’t know. She thinks we’re just friends.”
Sierra cocks a look at me. “I can see your face Sarah. She’s going to figure it out. You can’t say her name without glowing. I’ll bet you two are crazy cute when you’re together.”
