by Kat Fletcher
“No sense of adventure.”
“I’m all about adventure, just not about gasoline.”
“The clam thing good?”
“Amazing,” she says, taking another bite.
I wrinkle my nose at it. I remember what those things tasted like. Not for me.
We finish eating our lunch and we sit back, leaning against each other, and gaze out on the bay as we play with each other’s fingers.
“Whales?” I ask. I’m not really that into it, but I want to give her a chance if she is. I mean, it wouldn’t be terrible, but looking at the boats, they’re crowded and I don’t want to share Rach with anyone. I know running around town we’re not going to be alone, but at least shopping we’re mostly anonymous. Well, as long as we don’t block the sidewalk making out. You know. Like we did before lunch. That’s kind of not anonymous at all. I shudder inside at the memory, but kind of squeal in delight too.
“More shopping.” The way she says it is halfway between a question and a statement.
“Sure.”
* * *
After disposing of the trash from lunch, we stop at the public bathrooms. That seems like it should be a simple enough thing? It’s not. It’s beyond embarrassing. Like horrific. It’s a little building and there’s a line a mile long.
“Not loving that root beer right now,” I mumble to Rach as we wait in line for what feels like forever with the sun beating down on us. Naturally, it’s only our side of the building. As we walked up, I could see guys going in and out with no wait. Unfair.
Finally, we step inside. The smell of disinfectant is overwhelming, but the cool is kind of nice. However nice being out of the sun is, this is where it goes from merely annoying to mortifying. There’s an older woman sitting on a stool and monitoring everything. I step forward for what I guess is too far and she barks, “Wait!” at me. I cast a glance back at Rach and she gives me a funny expression as if to say, “Glad it wasn’t me.”
When a door to a stall opens, before the woman can even get out, the attendant barks, “Seven open!” at me. I march over, feeling like everyone is watching me. The plumbing belongs in a museum it’s so old, but I have to admit, it is clean. I guess the attendant probably takes care of that too.
What a great job, bossing people around in a toilet and cleaning up for them. I make a note to study for the SATs.
I finish things and wash up quickly, then go out and wait for Rach, who from the order issued after mine, I gather was assigned stall twelve. She, of course, comes out looking cool as usual, like it was nothing out of the ordinary.
I raise my eyebrows in a silent question.
“That was quite special,” she says dryly.
* * *
We head back into the center of town, darting in and out of shops. Most of the clothing stores are for men, to be more specific for gay men—my dad is so not shopping here. I manage to find a little linen hoodie at what seems to be sort of a stoner store straight out of some movie about the 1960s and at a little jewelry shop, Rach buys a pair of earrings.
I see a bead store and notice a little sign in the window and get an idea. Rach is looking at some sunglasses at a kiosk. “Hey I’m just going to pop in there,” I say, pointing at the store.
“Just a sec and I’ll come with.”
“No,” I pat her on the shoulder, “you can keep looking. I know you’re not the arts and crafts type. I’ll only be a minute.” I dash in and talk to the owner quickly and head back out before Rach gets bored and comes in. “All set,” I say.
“What’d you get?”
“Nothing. They didn’t have what I was looking for.”
The next moment a girl a couple of years older than us rolls up on skates. Not blades, but the four-wheel kind that roller derby players wear. “Party tonight girls,” she says, presses a postcard into my hand, and skates off with a spin.
“What’s that?” Rach asks.
We tuck ourselves in close to the wall to let others pass by and I hold it so we both can read. Apparently there’s a lesbian dance party at a bar and we’re invited. Except we’re not. “Twenty-one and over,” I sigh.
“What? No fake ID?”
“Really? You have one?” I blurt out, embarrassed that I’ve never even thought of it, much less had one.
“Are you serious? No. I’m seventeen. Who’d believe it anyway? Trust me, no bouncer is going to be as bad at guessing our age as skater girl was.”
I study her appearance. She’s never seemed like she was in high school to me. “They’d believe you. Not me.”
“Sarah. You treat me like I’m so different, but I’m not. I’m just the same as you. Stop acting like I’m this great thing.”
“I’m not, like, ‘hot alt girl’ like you.”
She shrugs. “You’re you. Works for me.” She runs a hand across my bottom. “Really works for me.”
I giggle and squirm away before we end up attracting attention again. She chases after me and I run out into the street and break out into a sprint. She follows, but however cool those leather boots look, they aren’t great for running and she can’t quite catch up to me.
I get a bit of a lead, turn around, and let her catch up, then dodge out of her touch and run away again. Finally, I take pity on her. We’re in a section with a little more space by the sidewalk and I run onto a little brick patio and stop. She runs up, grabs me, and we share a quick kiss between laughs and panting.
She points at a shop. “Perfect!” she exclaims and, taking my hand, pulls me toward the door. The sign says “Over The Rainbow” and in the window, there are pride T-shirts, rainbow stickers, that kind of thing. The shopkeeper is a big heavy guy with a flowing beard, who thanks to Justin I know is called a Bear. He greets us with a hearty, “Hi, girls,” and an offer to help us find anything.
I start looking around and grab a little rainbow flag sticker. “For my locker,” I tell Rach.
“You’re coming out at school?”
“Definitely,” I say, mocking her.
“You don’t waste time do you?”
I look at her confused. “Shouldn’t I?”
“Well yeah. I think it’s awesome. It’s a big scary step for most people. Well, unless you go to Valley where it actually increases your social standing, but I’m guessing Sumner isn’t like that.”
“No, but it’s not like hate city or something. It won’t be a problem,” I smile. “Probably going to be some surprised people, but they’ll get over it.” I say all this like I’m completely confident, but by the end I’m starting to wonder if I’m just trying to convince myself. “Anyway, after being here with you, I can’t imagine going back to pretending I’m something I’m not. Or even just not saying something and letting people assume.”
“Cool,” she says. “If someone gives you shit, I’ll visit your school for the day and beat them up for you.”
At first I think she’s serious and I must have a look on my face, because she rolls her eyes and starts laughing. I slink away, embarrassed, and search through some T-shirts while she wanders off. They’re funny as hell, but tacky and overt with lots of references to clams and tacos or hot dogs and sausage, depending on your preference. There’s no way I’d ever wear something like that, but if they were a little cheaper I might buy one just to see my mother’s face. She would have a total nutty.
When I look up, Rach is handing over a credit card and stuffing something into her messenger bag. I give up on the shirts and pay for my sticker and we head back out.
“What’d you get?”
Rach gives me a funny look. “Oh nothing.”
“Come on?” I say, flirtingly.
“Okay,” she pulls out a little bag, slips a finger in, and comes out with a silver double-Venus necklace.
“Don’t you already have one of those?”
“You really are a dork,” she says and puts it around my neck and fastens it.
I can feel my eyes start to tear up and I don’t even know why. It’s just a necklace. It�
�s not like I don’t have any or nobody’s ever given me a present. But this is different.
“Sarah?” she says, her voice worried. “Are you okay?”
“Thank you,” I whimper out and throw my arms around her.
As we embrace, I glance around and can see people watching us. Provincetown is really getting me used to being the object of attention.
* * *
We’re sitting up against a tree in a little park, or actually I guess it’s the lawn for the Town Hall. It’s late afternoon, almost evening, and the sun is starting to get lower in the sky. The buildings are sending shadows over the narrow streets, making it seem later than it probably is. Either way, I’m starving and exhausted. We’ve been up and down the street at least three times, gone into every shop except the two adult stores that had an 18+ sign. Well, Rach dragged me into one and we got sent right back out by the clerk.
Right now, we’re just kicking back and relaxing. I run my finger across the edges of her hair. The sharp lines from this morning disappeared sometime during lunch, a victim of the ocean breeze, but I still think her cut looks pretty damned good.
She swats at my hand jokingly as if it was a bug crawling on her and after a quick kiss, I go through my bag and bring out my phone. I’ve been blowing off my friends pretty bad. Sierra and I chatted this morning and I told her about coming out to my parents, but Justin wasn’t around. Apparently she’s filled him in and now they both want details of what Rach and I are doing.
“Sierra wants to know about Provincetown. She says pix or it didn’t happen.”
“Definitely pix,” Rach says and we press our cheeks together so I can snap a quick picture and send it off. Then I start rattling off a report of what I’ve bought shopping. Rach digs her phone out and starts in as well.
After a few minutes, I pick up the bottle of water we got at a little news stand and realize it’s empty. “Food?” I ask.
“Definitely.”
I tell Sierra and Justin that we’re going for food and, standing up, take a quick picture of Commercial Street before packing up things. The crowd has thinned a little, but there’s still plenty of wildlife for them to see. Actually, it’s a little wilder, or at least a little gayer. I guess the straight people are afraid to be out with evening approaching.
“How about the crazy place with the neon?”
Rach looks a bit thoughtful. “It was kind of pricey.”
“It’s my treat,” I say, but I’m met with a skeptical glance.
“You already paid for lunch. It’s not fair that you’re paying for everything.”
“I’m not paying for anything, my dad is. He threw a bunch of money at me. I think it’s his attempt to be supportive and stuff.”
“Well, if my mom’s boss is forking over for it, I guess that’s okay,” she says, still looking a little dubious.
“Actually, that’s the whole point. He’s not her boss anymore. She’s a partner.”
“Yeah. Whatever. Legal stuff. Boring.”
“Now who’s the dork?” I give her a nudge with my hip. “And we have one more stop before eating.”
I lead us back to the bead shop, which thankfully is near the restaurant because I am dead on my feet tired. “You wait out here,” I order and scurry into the shop.
She eyes me curiously when I come back out. “And what was that about? I thought they didn’t have whatever it was you were looking for?”
“You’ll see later.”
* * *
We have to wait for a few minutes to get into the restaurant, but when we do I can tell it’s going to be worth it. There’s a beautiful view of the bay and the sun is setting on the water. We get a little table right at the window and even though it’s crowded and noisy, I can’t even imagine someplace could feel more romantic than this.
“Do you like lobster?”
“Oh yes,” she says, sending her tongue along her upper lip. It’s a gesture that leaves me thinking of something other than food, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of a response. “Can we afford it?” she asks.
“No, but my dad can.”
Our waiter comes by. “Hello ladies, what can we get you tonight?”
“Lobster for both of us?” we say in unison.
“And would you like to make it a Clam Bake?”
I have no idea what he’s asking and start to flush. I’m never good at these things. I look up at Rach and don’t find any answers in her face. Thankfully our gallant and pretty obviously gay waiter comes to our rescue. “The Clam Bake adds salad, potato, soup or chowder, and corn on the cob.” He glances over his shoulder, like he’s nervous about someone overhearing, then gives us a knowing glance. “It’s worth it,” he adds, “and not just because I work here.”
“I’m sold,” I shrug.
“Sounds good to me,” she adds.
* * *
After a salad and this really good “Portuguese soup,” whatever that is, that the waiter recommended, he returns and puts two enormous bright red crustaceans on the table along with an array of side dishes. Rach and I share a quick glance. There’s enough food here for a half-dozen people and I think both of us are feeling a little over our heads.
“Okay ladies, let me help give you a hand with your bibs,” the server says and shakes out a plastic bib with a dramatic flourish. He puts it around Rach’s head and the expression on her face is unbelievable. I pull my phone out and snap a quick picture.
“I’ll get you back for that,” she threatens with a slightly embarrassed grin.
“It’s totally you,” I say, but then the waiter wraps one around my neck as well and it’s Rach’s turn to grab her phone and snap a shot.
“Is there anything else I can get you ladies?”
“Can you get a picture of us, together, with the lobsters?” I blurt out.
“Oh no, no, no,” Rach objects, a huge smile betraying her.
“Certainly,” he says and takes the phone from me. “Okay you two, get closer.”
I pull my chair a little bit and lean over.
“Oh please,” he says, amusement in his voice. “I’m pretty sure you can get closer than that.”
I’m blushing, but at the same time having a great time and I scoot my chair over even closer to Rach and we put our arms around each other.
“Smile!” he says and clicks a picture.
I lean over to kiss Rach and the flash goes off a second time.
“There you go,” he says and hands it back, a big smile crossing his face.
Before I get myself covered in goo, I get the kiss picture and set it up to post with the caption ‘My Girlfriend Rach and I in P-Town.”
“Hey Rach, want to see me come out of the closet?”
“Huh?”
I hold my hand over the button and turn the phone so she can see the shot of us kissing. “I’m going to post the picture to my Instagram and Twitter.”
“You are not.”
“Yeah,” I nod. “Totes serious. If it’s okay with you. You are, you know, kind of in it.”
“You don’t have to do this for me you know.”
“I really want to,” I say, take a deep breath, then press my finger down onto the touch screen.
* * *
After the lobster we order dessert and while we’re waiting I check my phone. My feed is going nuts. There’s already a couple of dozen responses.
“So how’s being out of the closet feel?” she asks.
“It feels pretty out of the closet,” I laugh. “I think everyone in my high school has shared my post.”
“Any problems?”
“Not yet! Sierra thinks the bibs are hilarious by the way.”
“Yeah, she can laugh it up.”
“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”
“I wasn’t embarrassed,” she protests.
“Course not,” I tease, fingering the necklace she bought me. “I got something for you too,” I say quietly.
“Okay…” she loo
ks at me.
I pull out the bag from the bead shop and take out the piece of pink sea glass we found on the beach. The store did a great job and there’s now a string of silver wire surrounding it. “That’s why I didn’t want you to come in. They put a thing on it so you can wear it as a necklace. Sorry, I didn’t get a chain.”
She shakes her head a little in nervous surprise. “Seriously? For me? It’s beautiful.” She stares at me and I stare into those beautiful gray-blue eyes and catch the slight hint of a tear in the corner of one as she unfastens her necklace and adds it to the chain. “Sarah. Thank you. Totally thank you. Wait. Get a picture on my phone, I want to show people.”
Chapter 16
After spending the day in Provincetown, today was mandated to be a family day. We’ve just finished dinner and I’m chilling on the couch waiting for Rach to get home. To kill time, I’m messaging with Sierra and this girl Nicole who’s in the Rainbow Alliance at school. I don’t know her, but she seems to want to be instant BFFs since I’ve come out. At least I hope that’s all she wants. She doesn’t seem to be flirting, but sometimes I’m pretty dense about these things.
Other than that, I have nothing to do. I’m supposed to clean up after dinner, but my dad found out there was a gas grill and made us burgers, so there’s not much to do other than throw away the paper plates.
Correct that. He made burgers after almost blowing the whole neighborhood up trying to get the grill to light. A couple of years ago, we got him this monster grill with every widget possible for Father’s Day and you press a button and it fires up. The one at the rental is like a hundred dollar special from the Job Lot that barely stands up. He had to light it with matches and it went up with a big whoosh.
I hear a knock and glance up from my tablet. Rach is at the door. At the first glance, I know something terrible has happened. Her whole face is puffy and there are dark circles around her eyes. It could be makeup that ran, but I think she’s been crying. Dread wells up from my belly. The way she’s standing is alarming. She’s kind of slumped over and when I catch her eyes, she casts them down and doesn’t look directly at me.
