by Nell Stark
Sarah’s smile was tentative. “Really?”
“Yeah. And I don’t even mind if you stare at me while I’m undressing. I’m a hottie, it’s just a fact.”
Rory felt a surge of relief when Sarah laughed. It was a good sound, and one that, she realized belatedly, she hadn’t heard very often.
“Good to know,” Sarah said. She reached both hands up to rub her neck and shoulders. Rory fleetingly thought of offering a massage, but decided that in the present context, it would come off as weird.
“So, dontcha want to know about these girls who are falling all over themselves for you?” she teased.
“Uh, you were serious about that?” Sarah looked genuinely surprised.
“Well, you really should talk to Matt,” Rory said. “But he gave me the impression that you’re considered…what was the word he used? Hunky.”
“Hunky?” She sounded incredulous. “Are you sure he wasn’t joking?”
“Oh, I’m sure.” Rory found herself surprised in turn. Had Matt been right? Did Sarah really not know just how attractive—scratch that, hot—she was? How could she not know? Sure, Sarah was no willowy blond supermodel, but she was tall and lean and striking. And she radiated a sort of barely contained intensity, a tautness in her bearing that was subtly charismatic. Like gravity. Rory had no doubt that Sarah was the proverbial talk of the town among the queer women on campus. And if she really was blind to all of the attention, that would make her even more attractive.
“What about you?” Sarah asked.
Rory frowned. “What about me, what?”
“I just realized…” She faltered. “I mean, I guess I don’t know. Do you have a boyfriend?”
Rory decided to let Sarah change the subject, and allowed herself a self-deprecating laugh as she got up to snag a soda from their mini-fridge. She tossed one to Sarah, too. “Ah, no. I’m a hopeless romantic. I want…I need grand passion, you know? It’s all or nothing for me.”
“Grand passion. Like, feelings that are all-consuming?”
“Yeah.” Rory was suddenly unable to meet Sarah’s intent gaze. She focused instead on a nick in one leg of her chair. “I want to love someone with everything in me, and I want them to love me back the very same way.”
When Sarah didn’t reply for several seconds, Rory looked up. Sarah had a distant expression on her face—as though she were looking at something far away. Something that made her sad.
“I get that,” she said. “Have you ever had it?”
Rory decided that this conversation had gotten much too serious. “Naw,” she said, flicking open the tab of her soda and taking a long sip. “I specialize in unrequited love. Like, for a little over a year now, I’ve been carrying a torch for Jeff Lee. How unoriginal, right?”
“Who’s Jeff Lee?”
“Senior. Music major. Fucking brilliant violinist. One of those broody artist types—smokes and drinks too much, but you don’t care because he’s an incredible listener and a goddamn genius. I fell head over heels for him freshman spring, when we were in the same study group for a class on nineteenth-century novels—” Rory suddenly realized that she was saying more than she’d meant to, and shrugged off a familiar pang of longing. “I want to save him from himself, you know? Me and about a thousand other women.” She met Sarah’s sympathetic look and cracked a half-smile. She’s a good listener, too.
“He sounds cool. Maybe you can introduce me someday.” When Rory nodded, Sarah took a deep breath. “And look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. About me. It’s a tricky thing, you know?”
Rory nodded again. She wanted to ask Sarah her story—how she had realized, when she had come out, what that had been like. But now didn’t feel like the right time. “I can imagine” was all she said.
“Yeah. So…back to work?”
Rory blew out a heavy sigh. “Ugh. No thanks.”
“Still studying bio?” Sarah got up to look at the papers scattered on Rory’s desk. “Anything I can help with?”
“Not bio right now. Taking a break from the cramming to brainstorm for my documentary class. I’m totally stuck.”
“Hmm,” Sarah said, leaning her butt against the desk and folded her arms across her chest. In that position, her resemblance to James Dean was positively spooky. “What do you have to do?”
Rory twisted the tab on her can. “It’s a yearlong class. First semester’s all about history of the documentary, technique, stuff like that. Second semester is spent creating a film and workshopping it with the rest of the class.” She slouched down in her chair. “Sounds so great in theory, right? Thing is, the prof wants us to write up a proposal of what we want to do by next week. And I don’t have a clue.”
Sarah frowned in thought. “Well, is there anything you don’t want to do?”
“Plenty,” Rory said. “I don’t want to do anything on, like…like saving the fucking whales, you know? Not that saving the whales isn’t a good cause, because I’m sure they deserve it, but I want to make a film about something really pertinent. Relevant to my life, my friends.” She rubbed her tired eyes. “Nothing I can think of seems right.” And I am seriously running out of time.
She started as Sarah propelled herself away from the desk and spun back around, clearly excited. “I know—GLAD!”
“Glad?” Rory shook her head, puzzled. “What? Like sandwich-bag Glad?”
Sarah laughed again. “No, no, the acronym. G-L-A-D—Gay and Lesbian Advocates and Defenders. They’re an organization. I volunteer for them. They have all kinds of projects going on throughout New England, but right now they’re especially vested in campaigning against this referendum in the spring—”
“Oh, yeah, Matt was telling me about that. Some bullshit proposal to limit the definition of marriage, right?”
“Yeah, and to make it so that Rhode Island wouldn’t be able to create civil unions or anything like them. GLAD has this subcommittee that’s trying to get the word out to Rhode Island students to vote against the bill. They’re splitting time between here and Providence, trying to hit as many schools as possible.”
“Very cool.” Rory nodded as the idea sank in. Important—check. And the timing is perfect. Jeez…this could actually work. “How did you get involved with them?”
“Chelsea made an announcement at the GLBT student center open house,” Sarah said, “and I decided that it’d be a good thing to do. I mean…it’s not just about getting married, you know?” She was staring off toward the darkened window now, clearly lost in thought. “What if I had a partner someday, and she was hospitalized for some reason, and her family wouldn’t let me see her?” She shuddered. “Or…did you know that there’s no clear law on the books in Rhode Island about joint gay adoption? One parent is allowed to adopt, but it’s all murky as to whether the other can, and how awful would it be if you were blocked from doing that?”
Rory touched Sarah’s arm lightly, wanting to offer comfort. There had been real pain in her voice, and fear. “Yeah. That would really, really suck.”
Sarah grinned—a little sheepishly—and took a step away from the desk. “Sorry. I got a little carried away, there. I guess…I mean, if someone doesn’t like that I’m queer—fine. That’s their problem. But the state and federally sanctioned discrimination is just plain unconstitutional. Volunteering with GLAD lets me fight the good fight.”
Rory nodded. “And you think I should make a film about them?”
“Oh, I’m not telling you what to do,” Sarah said quickly. “But it does seem to fit your criteria.”
“That it does.” Rory turned back to her computer. “They must have a Web site, right? I’ll check it out.”
“Look, why not just come along with me tomorrow night when I go to volunteer? We’re going to put up posters all over campus about an info session that’s being held next week. Someone from GLAD’s Boston office will be there to give us the posters and help out. You can talk to them and scope out the whole thing.”
“Sure,
all right,” Rory said. She looked over her shoulder at Sarah and gave her the thumbs-up. “Sounds great. Thanks.”
Sarah smiled in return and went back to her desk. A moment later, Rory heard her shuffling papers. Resolutely, she turned back to her biology textbook and flipped it open. Earlier, her discouragement about the documentary had been a distraction, but now that she had settled on a topic, she felt that sense of quiet purpose that made doing any task easier. Including studying for this goddamned exam.
*
The group that gathered on the stairs outside Roger Williams Dining Hall the next evening was small. When everyone greeted Sarah by name, Rory realized that she had been fundamentally wrong earlier about Sarah not having any friends. It’s not just me. People are drawn to her. Good energy.
“Hey, everyone,” Sarah said. She withdrew one hand from the pocket of her windbreaker to gesture at Rory. “I brought my roommate.”
Sarah introduced Nancy, the GLAD representative, first. She was a lawyer from Boston who looked to be in about her mid-forties and had very impressive piercings along the shell of her right ear. Cool. Ow, but cool.
“That’s Travis, and there’s John,” Sarah continued. She turned to Chelsea, who was, as usual, dressed to the nines.
I’ve never seen her without heels on, Rory realized. Kinda scary.
“And this is—”
“Oh, Chelsea and I go way back,” Rory said, grinning. “We suffered through our freshman seminar together.”
“Hi, Rory,” Chelsea said, sparing her a quick glance before honing back in on Sarah.
Rory would have bet her collector’s edition copy of Dr. Strangelove that the only reason Chelsea was volunteering tonight was because she had known that Sarah would be there. Perfect chance for me to play Yente.
Nancy called their small meeting to order by handing each of them a stack of flyers and a box of tacks. “Before we head out,” she said, “I thought I’d give you all a heads up on an exciting development that will be announced next week. Given the spring referendum here, GLAD has decided to create an organization called Fair Rhode Island that will be exclusively devoted to the Vote No campaign. Your GLBT center has decided to fund a paid internship as part of this new initiative.”
“Really?” Sarah asked eagerly.
It was clear that she was fascinated by the opportunity. Rory fleetingly wondered how Sarah was going to find time for yet another job, in addition to classes and all this volunteering that she apparently did. You are some kind of superstar, Sarah Storm.
“So the internship is for students?”
Nancy nodded. “Only URI students can apply. And I’m here tonight because GLAD has made me the Fair Rhode Island point person for URI. I’m getting the lay of the land. Literally.” She rubbed her hands together. “So let’s pair up and divide the campus into thirds.”
Rory saw her opening and seized it. Sarah was going to spend the evening flirting with Chelsea, if she had anything to say about it. Or being flirted with, at any rate. “If you don’t mind me as a partner, Nancy,” she said, “I have some questions that I’d like to ask you about GLAD. For a school project.”
“No problem. Let’s take the west side.”
Rory suppressed a grin as she watched Chelsea turn to Sarah. Bingo. Checkmate. Yahtzee. But just to shorten the odds, when Chelsea moved away briefly to pick up her bag, Rory made sure to lean in close to Sarah, under the pretext of adjusting the collar of her shirt like a helpful roommate.
“She likes you,” she muttered. “Don’t be dense.” And then she quickly turned toward Nancy, pointing toward a cluster of buildings across the quad. “Shall we start over there?”
The groups drifted apart into the cool night. “So,” Nancy said as they began walking. “You said you have some questions. What’s this project that you’re working on?”
“It’s for my documentary film class,” Rory said. “At the end of the school year, I need to submit a documentary of my own. I’ve been racking my brains trying to figure out my topic.”
“And you’re thinking of choosing the upcoming election?”
“Yeah. When Sarah—she’s my roommate—told me about the whole Vote No campaign, it sounded great on a number of levels. Pertinent issue, perfect timing.” Rory slipped her hands into the front pocket of her hooded sweatshirt. Ball’s in your court. Fingers crossed.
“So what is it exactly that you need from me?” said Nancy. “I have to tell you, the prospect of having a film chronicler is exciting to me on several levels.”
“Oh?”
“This is all speculation, of course,” Nancy said, “but for one thing, I could imagine asking you to let us use parts of the piece for television advertising early next year. Assuming you’d have some workable material by that point, of course.”
Holy shit! Rory thought. How cool would that be? “That won’t be a problem,” she said. “If you give me the green light, I’m hoping to start filming as early as next month.”
“How much of the campaign would you be able to document?”
“All of it, I hope. The referendum is in mid-April, right?” At Nancy’s nod, Rory shrugged. “My deadline will be around the same time. It’ll be tight at the very end, there, but I work best under pressure.”
“All right, then. This all sounds good to me.”
“Does that mean I officially have your permission?” said Rory.
“It does indeed,” Nancy said.
Yes! Rory didn’t bother trying to hold back her excited smile. She couldn’t believe that it had been so easy. This entire plan had come together in a matter of days. Like clockwork. Really good call, Sarah.
“Need me to fill out a form?” Nancy asked. “Paperwork is effortless for us lawyer types.”
“There will definitely be release forms. Everyone in range of the camera will have to sign one.” Rory rolled her eyes. “I get the point, but it’s a pain in the ass. Pardon my French.”
Nancy just laughed, her breath misting in the air. She had a good laugh—throaty and genuine. She’s fun. Thank God. I won’t mind hanging around her for the next several months.
“Why not just drop off the forms at our office, sometime in the near future?” Nancy said. “That way, you can get familiarized with how we work. Meet people, too.”
“Sure, that sounds good. Where is it?”
Nancy gave her the address and Rory paused to write it on the back of one of the flyers, which she then stuck in her pocket.
“How many staff members do you have there? I’ll want to interview them all, as long as they’re willing. And attend all of your events. Planning meetings, too, if that’s okay.”
Nancy laughed again. “Oh, you’re certainly welcome to come to any and all functions. We’re always looking for larger attendance numbers. As for interviews, I have a feeling that anyone affiliated with GLAD and FRI will be more than happy to give you their two cents.” She grinned. “We’re advocates and defenders. Not exactly a reticent bunch.”
“Excellent.” Nancy’s encouragement was only making Rory feel more enthused about the project. This is really going to work. And it’d be so sweet to get part of the film on television. That’d be a helluva line on the résumé.
“Oh, but you asked about numbers. It’s a small operation—myself, my assistant, and whoever ends up interning with us.”
Rory nodded, wondering if it would be appropriate to plug Sarah for the job. Aw hell, why not? Can’t hurt. “About that,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll get a lot of candidates for the position. I’m also sure that Sarah will apply. So just know that she’s awesome and deserving and such a hard worker…” She trailed off. “Point is, you can’t go wrong with her.”
“You’re dating her, aren’t you?” Nancy said dryly.
“Huh? What?” Rory spluttered. “Um, no. She’s honestly just my roommate. Don’t hold it against me, but I’m a straight chick.”
“No need to worry.” Nancy briefly rested one hand on her shoulder. A
smile played around the corners of her mouth. “Unlike plenty of other organizations, we don’t discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation.”
Rory made a show of wiping her forehead with the back of one hand, then gestured toward the set of double doors that they were about to pass. “That’s a residence hall.”
“And it looks sorely in need of postering.” Nancy led the way up the steps, then held open the front door. “Let’s get to it.”
Chapter Five
One week later
“Do I look okay?” Sarah smoothed the front of her pink oxford shirt and fiddled with the positioning of her belt buckle.
Rory paused her movie, turned, and raised her eyebrows. “Oh yeah. Smokin’.”
“I’m trying to look professional. Not hot.”
“Well, too bad. You look professionally hot.” Rory ducked when Sarah sent a crumpled piece of paper flying at her head. “I bet that the powers that be over there will offer you the position on sight.”
Sarah looked at her watch and started pacing. “Seriously, though, I’m up against some tough competition, and they all know this university a lot better than I do. I need to be sharp.”
Rory got to her feet and stretched. The movement exposed a tantalizing sliver of olive-toned skin. Soft, Sarah thought, before she quickly looked away. She had expected her initial attraction to Rory to wear off, but the feeling had only grown stronger. It was disconcerting, especially since she had no basis for comparison. None of her roommates at Yale had ever affected her this way.
“Listen,” Rory said, oblivious to the scrutiny. “I don’t think they’ll be quizzing you on URI trivia. They probably want what every employer wants—someone who’s passionate about the project and will work hard, you know?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Relax,” Rory insisted. “Nancy has a good sense of humor. Have a good time, will you? Joke around with her.”
“Good time. Right.” Sarah grabbed the miniature basketball from underneath her chair and halfheartedly aimed a shot at the small hoop that Rory had attached to the back of their door. The ball hit the rim and nearly knocked over the trash can. “Oops.”
