by Nell Stark
Sarah shrugged. “Depends on how well Brown and Providence College advertised.” She grinned faintly. “I just hope they brought enough candles.”
“It’s too bad Kate Clinton couldn’t make it,” Rory pressed, wanting to keep Sarah talking.
“Yeah,” Sarah said. “She would have lightened it up some.” She glanced briefly at Rory. “Did you watch some of her stuff on YouTube?”
“Hilarious,” Rory said. “Though I still think that Margaret Cho routine about the Asian chicken salad is the best I’ve seen.”
When Sarah laughed, Rory started doing an impersonation. That made her laugh even harder, and they almost missed their exit. A few minutes later, Rory opened her door and stepped out onto Brown’s campus feeling much more lighthearted than she had earlier…only to watch Sarah’s smile fade as soon as she took a good look around.
Was it because they were at Brown? Did it remind her of Yale? Or was it because Chelsea, who had just climbed out of Nancy’s van, was all over some sophomore kid who was unlucky enough to be her rebound girl? Rory kicked at a rock in frustration and only managed to stub her toe on the curb. I want to make you happy, and I have no idea how.
“Okay, everyone,” Sarah said, calling the group to order. “Be back here at five fifteen to get your candles. Nancy, Kelly, and I are going into the Union to meet with the other organizers.” She lowered her voice and turned to Rory. “What’s your filming plan? Are you going to hang out with the others or come in with us?” She leaned a little closer, and Rory clenched her hands into fists against the overwhelming impulse to slide one finger into a belt loop of Sarah’s jeans and tug. “Just to warn you—the meeting will probably be boring.”
Boring or not, the choice was a no-brainer. “I’m sticking with you,” Rory said.
Sarah smiled. “Sounds good.”
And just like that, Rory reflected as she popped the trunk to grab her equipment, hope sprang eternal.
*
“See you soon,” Sarah said as Rory broke away from the procession and hurried toward the steps of the capitol building. From there, she would be able to capture the full effect of their approach. Sarah turned slightly, glancing behind her at the long train of supporters who had turned out to protest the proposed amendment. There were well over a hundred people present—maybe even closer to two hundred. When they gathered at the base of the stairs and lit their candles, they’d look even more impressive.
Pride at the success of the event rushed through Sarah. This had been her idea, and although the majority of the planning had ultimately fallen to FRI’s Providence branch, the University of Rhode Island had managed to bring the largest student contingent. That felt good.
“This is an impressive turnout,” said Lee, the executive director of GLAD, who was walking to Nancy’s right. She pointed to several vans that had parked near the steps. “And look, the media’s here. What an excellent way for us to get some much-needed attention.”
Behind her, Matt started a rhyming chant about voting no that was taken up by most of the line. Sarah joined in enthusiastically, exhilarated by the sound of so many voices in unison. Right here, right now, she was a part of something extraordinary. It was like being part of a sports team again, only better.
The sensation of belonging was a relief. She had felt so alone for the past few weeks. Guilt for hurting Chelsea had mingled with the hopelessness of her feelings for Rory. She had wanted to talk to someone, anyone…but Rory was out of the question, and it wasn’t safe to spill her guts to Matt. What she had really wanted was to be able to call her mother—to lay everything at her mom’s feet the way she had when she was in high school. To be comforted and reassured. To know that she was okay, and that things were going to get better.
But that door was closed to her. Should I try to open it? Sarah wondered. Maybe enough time had passed. Maybe she doesn’t feel ashamed of me anymore. But if that were true, then wouldn’t she have reached out? For the thousandth time, Sarah wished that she had been brave enough to tell her parents about Dar before they had discovered the truth. Maybe if she had taken control of her coming-out process, it would have gone more smoothly. By keeping Dar a secret, did I help convince them that our relationship was…wrong, somehow?
“Hey,” Nancy said, jostling her lightly with her elbow. “You okay?”
Sarah blinked, realizing that she had sunk so deep into introspection that she’d stopped chanting along with the others. She tried to give Nancy a reassuring smile. “Yeah, sorry. Lost in thought.”
“None of that, now,” Nancy chided. “We need your voice.”
Sarah took a deep breath and joined back in, shaking off her anxiety. What’s done is done, she told herself as they crossed one last road and spilled onto the sidewalk in front of the capitol building. She couldn’t change how she had come out to her family, but she could make a decision to live bravely from now on.
*
Rory would have joined in the applause after Lee’s speech if she hadn’t needed both her hands to adjust the camera. Lee had spoken eloquently about the legal importance of the marriage question and had urged everyone present—and those who might see a clip on TV, Rory supposed—to continue spreading the word about why voting no was so critical. Her speech had followed one from Michael Bronski, a Dartmouth professor who had talked briefly about the history of LBGT rights and how marriage fit in. Rory had been at once fascinated by the topic and chagrined by her ignorance. These are my people now, she thought as Nancy took the microphone from Lee. I should buy one of Bronski’s books.
She zoomed out slightly in order to remind her audience just how many people were present. Nancy stood on the stairs with her back to the gleaming capitol building. Beneath her was a sea of flickering light.
“Thank you, Michael and Lee,” she said. “And thanks to all of you for showing your support by coming out on a chilly night.” A small cheer rose up from the crowd and she smiled. “We’ve just heard two perspectives on the proposed amendment from recognized experts. Now, I’d like to open up the microphone to anyone who would like to say a few words about why the Vote No campaign is important to them.” Nancy surveyed the audience, which had gone quiet. “Don’t be shy,” she said. “You’re all among family.”
Even so, you’d have to be crazy to get up there in front of everyone and just say something off the top of your head, Rory thought, leaning forward to double-check that her battery was holding up in the cold. She glanced over to her right, where two of the local news stations were also filming, and sighed. Their equipment was significantly cooler than hers. I have camera envy.
And then a ripple went through the crowd as someone stepped out, taking Nancy up on her offer. Rory’s jaw dropped. Sarah? Hurriedly, she focused in as much as she could. Sarah didn’t look nervous at all. In fact, she was smiling slightly. How she could manage to be that self-possessed in front of all those strangers was beyond Rory’s comprehension. God, you look so good.
“Oh good, Sarah,” Nancy was saying. “This is Sarah Storm, a junior at URI and the student intern for Fair Rhode Island’s Kingston office.”
“Yeah, Sarah!” shouted Matt, and Rory had to bite down hard on her lower lip to stifle her laughter.
“Hey, everyone,” Sarah said easily. She even gave Matt a little wave. The breeze gently ruffled her short black hair, and the candlelight made her eyes sparkle, and even though Rory knew it was medically impossible for her heart to be doing somersaults, that’s sure what it felt like.
“I learned a lot from our two speakers today about why voting no is important in general—for our legal system and for equal rights. As for why it’s important to me…” She paused briefly, and Rory saw then that she was nervous after all—just hiding it well.
“The closet bothers me,” she said, her voice growing stronger. “Most of us have probably been in it at some time or another, and it’s not inherently bad. Sometimes it’s necessary for survival, right?” The audience murmured its assent. Rory shiv
ered at the restrained emotion in Sarah’s voice, realizing that as she was speaking, Sarah was reliving her own closeted days. It’s in her nature to be genuine. Keeping a secret like that must have felt so wrong.
“But that’s the worst part about it,” Sarah continued. “When you’re in the closet, that’s all you’re doing—surviving. You’re not living. You’re just getting by, day to day, and you can’t stop and enjoy or savor anything because you’re always afraid. That’s why it’s so important to me that gay marriage be possible throughout the United States. When our relationships become legally acceptable—supported by society—there won’t be any more closets.” She ducked her head, grinning a little sheepishly. “Or at least…that’s my idealistic hope.”
She handed the microphone back to Nancy and returned to her place in the crowd to loud applause, cheers, and whistles. Rory’s breaths were shallow and her vision was blurry, but she managed to follow Sarah’s progress with the camera. My God, she thought, automatically working the controls as someone from Brown got up to speak next. It’s like she was talking to me.
For the past few weeks, she hadn’t been living. Not really. I’ve just been getting by. Her fear that Sarah would find out about her attraction had put a strain on their relationship. Well, no more, Rory vowed. I’m going to tell her. I’m going to figure out a plan—write a little speech if I have to—and tell her the truth.
Sarah deserved honesty from her, yes. But more importantly…I deserve it for myself.
Chapter Fifteen
March 23
Rory couldn’t stop whistling. It was unseasonably warm—forty degrees today—and after a cold snap in which the temperatures hadn’t reached above the teens, it felt positively balmy outside.
But the temperature was only icing on the cake. Today was Sarah’s birthday, and unbeknownst to her, Rory had organized a celebration. She couldn’t wait to see the expression on Sarah’s face when she walked into Kingston Pizza and saw all of her friends wearing corny party hats.
Rory took the steps up to FRI’s office two at a time. She paused briefly to extract a noisemaker from her pocket before shouldering open the door and blowing on it as loudly as possible. Sarah looked up from her desk, clearly startled. But then she saw Rory and burst out laughing. Rory grinned around the plastic tip of the toy. Best sound ever.
“Happy birthday, roomie! C’mon, I’m taking you out for cheesesteaks.”
Sarah’s smile became wistful. “Oh man, that sounds amazing. But I really should—”
“You should really go out to dinner on your birthday,” Nancy said, poking her head out of her office. “In fact, I insist.”
That big smile was back, and it was making Rory feel like it was difficult to catch her breath. I love her face. So expressive.
“Well,” Sarah said. “In that case, let me grab my coat.”
Nancy and Rory shared a look while Sarah’s back was turned. Meet you there, Nancy mouthed. And then Sarah was standing next to Rory, and Rory slipped one arm around her waist, ignoring the warning bells. Today’s the big day. Don’t be a coward, Song.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Sarah said as they walked out the door and turned left.
“You’re absolutely right,” Rory said. “I didn’t have to. Maybe I should just go home instead, huh?” She teasingly veered toward campus, but Sarah pulled her back on track.
“Too late now. You promised me a cheesesteak.”
“So I did.” She nudged Sarah playfully with her elbow, just because she could. “So, birthday girl. How’s your day been so far?”
Sarah launched into a description of the interesting discussion she’d been a part of in her political science class, but Rory found it difficult to concentrate on what she was saying. Instead, she soaked it all up—her shoulder occasionally brushing Sarah’s as they walked together in the—relatively—warm night: Sarah’s voice growing louder the more enthused she became; Sarah’s gentle tug on her arm, urging her back from the edge of the street while they waited at a crosswalk.
Their vibe had been much more relaxed ever since the night of the vigil. On the way home that night, Rory had resolved to come out to Sarah, for better or for worse, on her birthday. Maybe it had been a silly idea to wait for a special occasion, but it felt like the right thing to do. Of course, there was a risk that she was about to destabilize everything later tonight, but it was a risk she had to take. She was well aware that by admitting her newfound understanding of her own sexuality, she would also be confessing her attraction to Sarah. That prospect was scary as hell, but the alternative was stagnation. Sometimes over the past few weeks, Rory had caught Sarah looking at her with the same expression she’d had on her face that night at Matt’s party. Longing. If she was right—and God, how she hoped she was—Sarah wanted her right back. Of course, even if Sarah did reciprocate, she’d never make a move so long as she considered Rory to be straight. Good thing Matt jumped at the chance to help me plot a seduction.
Rory struggled to suppress a knowing grin when they reached the front door of Kingston Pizza. Surprise time, baby. Sarah lingered near the front of the restaurant, but Rory urged her farther inside.
“Shouldn’t we wait to be seated?” Sarah said, pointing to the sign in front of the hostess’s station.
“Already got a place,” Rory said tersely. “C’mon.” She took Sarah’s arm and dragged her around several tables, then down a short corridor. When they emerged into the back room a moment later, they were greeted by a loud cheer.
“Happy birthday, Sarah!”
Rory stood aside and watched Sarah’s jaw hit the floor. Close to twenty people were gathered, most of them URI students affiliated in some way with the GLBT student center. A few FRI volunteers and employees had also been able to join them.
“How did you…but…” Sarah was having trouble speaking coherently. It was cute. Rory watched her focus on Nancy, who was seated in a corner with Kelly. “Nancy, how did you get here before we did?”
“This great invention called a car,” Nancy said, winking. “Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
Sarah laughed. She looked dazed and happy, and Rory felt a surge of pride. I did it. I’ve given her a good birthday.
“You guys are amazing,” Sarah said, finally managing to be coherent. “This is just too much. I don’t even know what to do to thank you!”
“You should start by sitting down and ordering a beer,” called Matt, “now that you’re twenty-one.”
“And don’t thank us,” Travis said. “Thank Rory. She organized the whole thing.”
Sarah turned to Rory then and hugged her fiercely. Rory smiled into Sarah’s shoulder, reveling in the sensation of being held. So good. You feel so damn good to me.
“Thank you,” Sarah said, whispering against Rory’s left ear. Her breath was warm and moist, and Rory couldn’t help but shiver. “You are the best. Thank you.”
“Happy birthday,” Rory murmured back. She wanted to say more—so much more—but now wasn’t the time. Later. When I give her the gift. Reluctantly, she pulled away. “Now c’mon, sit down and get them to card you.”
After that particular ritual had been observed, Sarah moved slowly around the room, chatting with each of her friends while proudly sipping a frosty mug of Miller Lite. Matt pulled his chair closer to Rory’s and bent his head toward hers.
“You done good, cowgirl,” he drawled. “Ready for tonight?”
Rory nodded, keeping one eye on Sarah. “Yeah. Nervous, though.”
“She’s into you,” Matt said confidently. “No doubt. That hug just now? Clearly not platonic. Hell, she practically starting sucking on your earlobe!”
Rory’s pulse jumped as she thought about what that would feel like. “Jesus,” she muttered. “That’d be nice.” She looked over to see Matt grinning wickedly at her, and slapped him lightly on the arm. “You’re really getting a kick out of this, aren’t you?”
Matt ignored the question. “What did you end up getting her
as a present?”
Rory reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small black box. Matt’s eyebrows shot into his neon green hairline when Rory opened it. A silver claddagh pendant lay on the faux velvet interior.
“Wow,” Matt said. “You are really serious, aren’t you? About her.”
“Yeah.” Rory closed the box with a click and secreted it away again. She felt a sudden spike of anxiety about Matt’s reaction. “Do you think it’s too much?”
“No,” he said. “I don’t. In fact, I think it’s brave of you to show Sarah your hopeless romantic side.”
“She knows it exists,” Rory said, remembering back to one of their earliest conversations. “I told her, back in the fall.”
“Showing is different from telling.”
But before Rory could ask him to elaborate, Sarah returned to her seat. Her eyes were bright and she was still smiling. “God, this is fun,” she said, slinging one arm around Rory’s shoulders. “Have I said thank you yet?”
Rory leaned back into Sarah’s touch, resisting the urge to close her eyes and bask like a cat in the sunshine. “You may have mentioned your gratitude a few times,” she said. “But keep it coming.”
Sarah laughed and took a long sip from her beer. “Thank you. A thousand times, thank you.”
Rory was about to make a witty rejoinder when their waitress showed up with the food. Unfortunately, the arrival of Sarah’s cheesesteak meant that she needed to withdraw her arm from around Rory’s neck. Rory masked her disappointment by reaching for a slice of pizza.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” the waitress asked.
Sarah looked at her nearly empty glass and grinned. “Actually, yeah. Could I get another beer?”
*
Sarah couldn’t believe that she had just walked into her own room. A disco ball hung from the ceiling, twinkling Christmas lights had been draped haphazardly over the bookcases, and music blared from Rory’s computer speakers. In one corner, Matt was standing behind a card table, mixing drinks. Unreal. She’s turned our room into a nightclub.
