And now, on with the show.
First Time For Everything
by Cirrus Kain
Part 1
I wasn't a patron of the establishment and I didn't know who the regulars were, if any, but I knew enough to see that the girl who had just walked in wasn't a regular. Not a chance in hell. The way chocolate-brown eyes darted around just a little too fast to be familiar, and the way she didn't head straight for anyone or straight for the bar. The girl just stood by the door for a minute seeming awfully nervous. I didn't blame her, knowing I'd probably feel nervous too if I had just realized I looked completely out of place.
A lot of the women had their eyes on the girl the second she walked in, but I knew there was no way she would be leaving with any of them. Old dykes they were mostly, and the occasional bar bitch. Chicken hawks. The girl didn't carry herself with enough confidence to be a chicken. I watched idly, pretending not to be interested, as she moved to a barstool, carefully selecting one with two empty seats on each side. The expression on her face said she knew very well she was in the wrong place, but was too proud to back down and leave without at least having a drink.
"Um, Diet Coke, please," she ordered, being as quiet about the whole business as she could. The bartender stifled a bellylaugh. I made no such efforts, however, and chuckled to myself while shaking my head.
The girl noticed.
"What's so funny?" she asked, her tone firmer than it had been seconds before.
"You are, little girl," I replied, taking a sip from my bottle of Bud Lite. I slid off my stool across the bar and went over to where she was. She tensed when I sat beside her. "I'm surprised you can even get that shit here. I'd bet anything nobody's asked for a long time."
"There's a first time for everything," she said quietly.
"Indeed."
We existed in perfect silence after that. I nursed my beer while she nursed her Coke, and every once in a while I took a glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She was naïve as hell, but damn she was gorgeous too. Like something out of a cosmetics commercial. Something you'd never expect to see in a run down old lesbian bar on the side of the highway just outside of Pine Valley.
And then, just as I went to take another look at her, I saw that she was looking at me.
She turned away in a hurry and finished her Coke the same way. Then she left. Not a word. I watched her back with all the others until she disappeared outside, leaving the door swinging behind her. Turning back to my beer, I shook my head and proceeded to take a large swig. There was no doubt in my mind that no one in the bar, myself included, would ever see that little one again.
It never crossed me for an instant how wrong I was going to be.
Part 2
Bianca had found the bar, ironically enough, because of her mother. Later though, she would wonder if Fate didn't have a hand in it as well.
The evening had been normal enough at the start. She and Leo had gone to the hospital to pay Laura a visit, after which Bianca left with her mother. The girl could sense the second they were in the car together that Erica definitely wasn't in a good mood. She had been fighting with Brooke English over something. When Bianca asked her about it though, she just remained silent.
Finally, suddenly, however, she spoke.
"I don't think you should be spending so much time at the hospital Bianca. I mean, surely there are other things you need to be doing."
Bianca looked at her mother with disbelief. "Where'd that come from Mom?" she asked, careful of her tone while trying to feel her mother out.
Where it actually had come from was a heated conversation with Brooke. Erica was furious. How dare that ungrateful, unpleasant woman suggest that she would be so selfish! In a matter of life and death at that. Still, deep down inside, in that nagging voice she tried so hard to squash, she couldn't help wondering if it was true. But Erica said none of this of course. Instead she merely replied, "Nowhere honey, I just think you're there far too much. I wouldn't want you falling behind in your schoolwork or anything."
"You know I always keep up. There's more something more to this," Bianca stated. She didn't like where the exchange was going.
"Nonsense Bianca. Now tomorrow I want you to stay home, okay?"
"No Mom, not okay," Bianca shot back incredulously. "Laura needs her friends right now, she needs me. I'm sticking by her." She was getting angry. It was stupid, and hopeless, but she loved Laura. Bianca Montgomery would be damned if anyone was going to stop her from seeing someone she loved.
And that was exactly what Erica Kane saw in her daughter's eyes. It scared her.
"You don't need to be with her every day sweetie. Leo will stop in and see her, won't he? You can ask him how she's doing." She paused, and then added impulsively, "You're around that girl so much it's like she's your lover or something."
The way her mother choked on the word 'lover' wasn't lost to Bianca either.
"So that's what this," she said coldly. "You're upset because I have feelings for Laura. I thought you would be over this by now."
"Bianca I..."
"Stop the car," Bianca demanded.
"Honey..."
"Stop the car. I'm getting out."
"Sweetheart..."
"STOP THE DAMN CAR."
The car pulled to a halt. Erica, defeated, didn't look at her daughter as she got out and started down the road in the opposite direction. She had screwed up and she knew it. And Bianca did still love Laura, which meant that the nagging little voices were back, laughing at her imperfections. Yes, she was trying to keep Laura English away from her daughter. It was something she still wasn't ready for yet. Erica was being selfish.
She drove off towards home to fix herself a drink and wallow in self-pity for the night.
Bianca, meanwhile, walked until she found an intersection. Then she did what anyone who kept two hundred-dollar bills stuffed in their already-rather-full bra for emergencies would do. She called a cab. And not quite feeling up to going home just then, she told the cabbie to drive for a while. After all, if the price exceeded her mad money in the end, she could always pay him at the house. So they went, quietly, down the road, Bianca staring out the window into the night.
In twenty minutes they were just outside city limits on a lonely stretch of highway bordered by old, bent trees and yellow, dead fields. At first she almost missed the establishment entirely, for it was nothing but a run-down looking shack with light streaming from cracks in the boarded up windows. But something colorful caught her eye at the last moment. The rainbow strip painted up above the doorframe. The old ruin was a gay bar. Defiance being the afterglow of the fight with her mother, Bianca told the cabbie to pull over and let her out.
"Um... You sure about this... place?" he asked nervously.
"Yeah, I'm sure," she replied as she paid him his fee. She had enough left for a few drinks and the ride home too.
They didn't card her on her way in, but when she saw what she was getting into, she wished they had. The place, which a worn sign told her was 'The Watering Hole', illustrated perfectly for Bianca the difference between a gay club and a gay bar. Clubs generally had music, dancing, young people, and merriment. This was a building where people came to drink. The crowd was older and butcher than she preferred, and the way they stared made her want to run out as fast as she could. Pride though, something she acquired from her mother no doubt, got the best of her. She would have a drink.
Running like hell would come after.
She made her way to the bar, sitting where no one would bother her, and ordered a drink that wouldn't get her thrown out. That was when she heard the deep chuckle from across the bar. Bianca looked up, and was nearly stunned by the face she saw. The contrast between that woman and the others there was so spectacular she puzzled over how she had not noticed this one the second she walked through the door. She was young, for one, looking to be in her early twenties. She was clean, well-groomed, and well-dressed in shiny blue button-down shirt. Her left earlobe was pierced once and her right twice, all three bearing earrings with rainbow beads that were very attractive. The eyes that tilted up at Bianca were sparkling green, and her short hair was bleached blonde.
Lo and behold, Bianca ended up exchanging words with the stranger while she drank her Diet Coke. The woman's voice was husky and her tone was confident, two things Bianca couldn't help but find sexy. She caught herself sneaking sideways peeks at the woman when she sat beside her. She was wearing leather pants, and had toned arms that even lithe little Greenlee would be jealous of. Pangs of guilt formed in the back of her head. Bianca knew it was lame, but she felt as though she were betraying Laura by looking at this woman. Certainly emotion was playing no part in the encounter. It was all hormones. And Laura she loved with all her heart.
But when she saw the stranger staring back, the heat between them was too much to bear. Finishing her drink quickly, Bianca did the only thing she could think of and bolted.
Outside she called another cab and went straight home.
Part 3
"When your love is out at a dance with your best friend, the last thing you want to see is dancing."
I didn't quite know what she meant, but that was what the gorgeous girl with the big brown eyes answered when I asked what a nice girl like her was doing back in a place like this.
"I take it you're just up for drinking then," I said.
"Tonight, yeah."
I got the attention of the woman working the bar and ordered a Red Wolf. The girl was on a Diet Coke again, which was strange because it looked like she could use something a lot harder. She was sitting there, staring at the scuffed wooden counter. It was so old and worn you could see the beginnings of a groove where drinks had slid across the surface too many times. Her delicate looking hands fidgeted every now and then, manicured nails tapping. She looked surprised when I handed her my beer and order another.
"Well, they say drinking alone is one of the signs of an alcoholic. I figure as long as you join me, I'm in the clear." What a lame thing to say. All my other lines were obsolete though; the last thing this chick needed was to be hit on. She didn't come right out and show it, but her heart was breaking. I'd been there enough to know the signs.
"Thanks," she murmured, pushing the Coke aside and toying with the bottle.
Then the uncomfortable silence settled in. There was a timing problem going on here. I could feel the heat we created in the space between us as we sat there, but nothing could be done about it. Sooner? Maybe. Later? Definitely. But not now. I shifted and glanced around the room at the booths against the walls, mostly empty because the night was still young for the kind of people that normally came in, and at the weird knickknacks all around. The gator's head made me feel like we were in some damn swamp somewhere instead of on the boarder of a high class sort of town. Other than that, there were pictures and newspaper articles about gay rights stuff. My attention snapped back like a rubber band when the girl next to me cleared her throat.
"If you're going to be buying me drinks I guess I should know your name," she said, quiet and timid. I coolly pretended not to think it was adorable.
"Graham. Graham Daeton," I replied, trying to sound like James Bond without sounding like I was trying to sound like James Bond. I didn't do a very good job of it.
"Bianca... Montgomery," she offered. She was hesitant about it, like she was expecting me to recognize her name.
So I said, "Never heard of you."
I lied, but Bianca seemed extremely relieved. I suppose I would have been too; if I had as many stories going around about me as she did, I'd have killed to meet someone with no knowledge of them and who could form an unbiased opinion of me. I had heard almost all the stories since coming to Pine Valley, and, just being that kind of person, had discounted them all immediately, but I learned right then that the lesbian daughter of superwoman Erica Kane was every bit as beautiful as the legends said. Even more so, in fact. It didn't surprise me that this girl would be someone that everybody talked about. Treasures like her were rarely seen.
"So, how long have you lived in Pine Valley?" she asked.
"About six days actually," I told her. "Came from Missouri. It was a conflict of interests to remain in the same state as my blood relations."
That was putting it mildly.
"Why here?"
"Was driving. No destination. Then my car broke down. Guess where," I responded, making a sweeping gesture to indicate 'here'. "I stopped in here for a drink one night and the damn thing wouldn't start afterwards. Hell it's still out there."
"The white Chrysler Cirrus?" she questioned with an amused expression.
I sighed. "Yes," then continued. "So I hitched into town, got myself a motel room, and the next day got a job waiting tables at this place called BJ's..."
"No way!" she interrupted. "Everyone goes there! I wonder why I haven't seen you."
"Well," I replied, "you probably weren't looking for me."
Just then my wristwatch beeped the hour, causing her to look at her own. Fancy little gold affair, that watch. It suited her.
"It's getting pretty late. I should get home. Wouldn't want Mom to worry." She set the beer, which she hadn't touched, aside.
"Does she know where you are? Cuz if she does, I'm sure she's worried already."
Bianca laughed for the first time in my presence, and I knew right then I could never go back. It was music. She got up from the barstool and turned to walk out, but at the last second spun around again and grabbed my hand. I couldn't breathe as she brought it to her beautiful full lips and kissed it softly. Then she smiled her great big smile at me.
"Thanks for the drink," she said. "I'll see you around."
I couldn't have said anything even if I had thought of something to say. Not that I really needed to though, because she left with swift grace, without waiting for my reply. I sat watching the door for several minutes once she disappeared beyond it. Then I noticed that everyone in the bar was staring at me. The place erupted in hoots and catcalls from these middle-aged lesbians who were, I knew, burning with jealousy.
"Oh jeez," I muttered, rolling my eyes but still blushing deeply as I went
back to my drink.
Part 4
Bianca Montgomery felt like shit.
She knew that it was possibly the biggest understatement there would ever be in the universe, but she had been unable to come up with anything in American English to properly describe her current state.
So Bianca Montgomery was stuck feeling like shit.
And while she felt like shit, she sat at a table in the darkest corner of BJ's, where she hoped no one could find her and talk to her, because she knew that the second she opened her mouth she would burst into tears. There was a hot Chai Latte in front of her that smelled very nice but that she wasn't really interested in drinking at the moment. She played with it instead, stirring it idly with a spoon, watching the tiny ripples intently. She played, and made a wish for the whole world to end right then and there. It didn't though. Sigh.
Then she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders.
"Hey..." a deep, familiar voice said behind her.
Bianca tilted her head back and found herself staring straight up into Graham Daeton's green eyes. A soft concerned smile was on her thin lips. All at once Bianca realized that she had stopped thinking about everything that had happened eariler on the beach, and was instead tracing the curves of the blonde woman's features with her mind. She snapped her head down and scolded herself harshly. With all that was going on, all that might happen, she was letting herself get caught up in what she had decided the night before was merely a fleeting attraction. Just an appreciation of the beauty of another human being. How could she be so immature?
The hands were gone from her back suddenly, and she glanced up again to see Graham moving to a chair next to her's.
"I know it's not my place... but if you need to talk, you can talk to me." Her voice was so soothing.
Bianca set her spoon down on the table and took a sip of her coffee to buy time. She stubbornly wanted to carry her burden, and get through it, all by herself. But Graham was warm and inviting. The blonde put no pressure on her to even answer. She just sat there, gazing to some other place in the restaurant. She was wearing black wool, short-sleeved for the warmer weather. Fairly form-fitting as well. Black slacks. A leather trench coat lay across her lap. Against all that darkness her eyes glittered even more like jade. Her hair looked more golden. Serenity radiated from her being.
"Not here..." Bianca finally whispered. She stood up.
Graham got to her feet as well. "So we're going to... my place then?" she asked, pulling on the coat.
"Sure," Bianca replied with a forced smile.
The blonde nodded. "Let's hit the..." Then she trailed off abruptly, staring past her companion with a dropped jaw towards the door. "Holy shit..." she muttered.
Bianca glanced swiftly over her shoulder, and went with her first instinct, which was to grimace as she saw Jake Martin, who was holding the door for Greenlee Smythe. Definitely the last person she wanted to see on such a day. Upon slightly closer inspection, she was able to derive some pleasure from the fact that her nemesis, while maintaining her cocky self-assurance, looked worn out and weary. Her dear mother's doing, she deduced. For Bianca, though, it wasn't enough. Not today. In fact, she was so far at her rope's end, she swore to herself that if Greenlee dared to start something, she would haul off and hit her. Bianca might have even gone into a brief fantasy on what that would be like, but then the question hit her, and she looked back and Graham. "You know her?" she asked.
"We're, um, old friends," Graham explained. "And oh look, here she comes."
"Hey there Binky," Greenlee said, as sweet as clover honey, with a venomous smirk on her face. "How's my favorite queer-as-folk?"
Erica Kane's teenage daughter balled her hand up into a fist and sucked in a deep breath, but was stopped by a gentle touch on her arm. Graham stepped casually in front of her.
"Greetings Greenlee Smythe," she said coolly.
Greenlee gasped, almost inaudibly, and stood gaping for several seconds. Then she let out a small choke, regained most of her composure, and sputtered, "I-I'm sorry, do I know you?"
The blonde feigned a frown. "Aw c'mon now, don't pull that with me Greens. You have to remember. St. Louis, seven years ago. You were vacationing. We had so many fun days together, you and I. And," she continued, leaning close to Greenlee's face, her voice getting lower and huskier, "even funner nights."
Greenlee just stood, her mouth open and eyes wide with fear... and recognition.
"Well," Graham said after a moment. "Perhaps this will jog your memory."
It looked almost as though she would kiss Greenlee, her face eased even closer, until there was no gap between them. But at the last second, she tilted her head and her lips hovered above one sensitive earlobe. Greenlee inhaled sharply. Bianca could no longer move a muscle, nor even think about doing so. The entire world seemed to drop away around the two women in front of her. Then the blonde began to sing, so softly.
"Stars fading, but I linger on dear, still craving your kiss... I'm longing to linger 'til dawn dear, just praying this... Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you... Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you... But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me..."
She pulled back, shattering the moment like so much glass on the hardwood floor. Greenlee blinked, everyone did, back into reality once more. Graham just grinned. There was a pause where world seemed to stand perfectly still, like some jungle cat ready to strike and wound, or possibly kill. And then Greenlee slapped that triumphant grin right off of Graham's face.
As though some unseen director had shouted "Cut!", with that, the scene was
over. The audience went once more about their business, hardly even
acknowledging what had happened, so stunned were they. Greenlee stalked by
angrily, slamming into Bianca's shoulder hard as she passed, without so much
as a breath. Jake followed cautiously, like most, uncertain of what exactly
had just taken place. Bianca gathered herself and moved to Graham's side.
The two exchanged a glance, then lowered their gazes from each other
thoughtfully and walked out the door, starting off toward Graham's temporary
place of residence.
Part 5
As we trekked the seven blocks to my swanky Motel 6 address, I thought mostly about Greenlee. I don't suppose anyone who saw us at BJ's would have been surprised.
Everyone I've ever known has told me at some point that I have a certain amount of passion to my character, an amount that happens to be so large that most of the time it infects other people. What I mean by that is, when I get worked up, everyone witnessing it invariably ends up feeling some emotion parallel to my own, whatever that my be at the time. My joy makes them smile; my pain brings them down. In retrospect, I'm sure that was what first attracted Greenlee Smythe to me.
Also on that walk in utter silence, my mind often shifted to Bianca, who shuffled beside me. Her hair looked tangled, like someone's might after drying without being combed. It was a cry, even if not a very far one, from her usual physical perfection. It was her eyes that gave her away the most though. Their sparkle gone, those big sad chocolate eyes looked like the eyes of someone who had just seen far more than they would have ever liked to. They were the eyes of a girl who had just had the day from hell.
I was sure that my little occurrence with Greenlee hadn't helped that either. I could almost still feel the charge from that one vibrating in the air around us. It was something that, me apparently being contagious and all, couldn't have done anything but stir around some already volatile emotions that were brewing inside this young girl's heart. We stopped at an intersection, waiting to cross, and I put my hand on her shoulder blade. She looked up at me with those dull, sad eyes. I didn't try to fake a smile. At the moment, I was of the opinion that faked smiles cheapened serious situations. I think she appreciated it.
We finally got my room, and I opened the door for Bianca in a gentlemanly fashion.
"Make yourself comfortable. I'm sorry there's not much seating... but then this isn't exactly the Ritz-Carlton, is it?" I spoke softly, which was sort of a reflex caused by tension. I think she appreciated that too.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, back straight, hands folded in her lap. I made my way to the small closet and hung up my coat, then to the tiny refrigerator, which I was ever so thankful the room was equipped with, and pulled out the remainder of a six-pack of Diet Coke. I swear I had no idea why I had even bought it. For a moment it crossed my mind that more than just coincidence was at work when I handed her the can of what I had observed to be her favorite drink. But only for a moment. Then it passed in preference to more solemn matters.
I hunkered down in the room's one chair, which was opposite the bed, and cracked my soda. "All right kiddo," I said. "Time to spill."
She didn't talk for several minutes, but I knew better than to rush her, so I said nothing more. She would talk when she was ready.
And she did.
"The night you ordered me the beer," she began, not taking her gaze off the gaudy motel carpet, "do you remember why I was at the bar?"
"You said something about your love being out with someone else." I tried to sound like I didn't remember every word she had ever said to me. "This girl... She's my best friend... And...," Her voice fought off a break that was imminent. "She's dying."
My mind blanked. All I could manage to say was, "Bianca..."
"She needs a new heart..." the girl went on, tears now streaming down her cheeks. "And even if she gets one... she may not... She's at the hospital now, and I don't know what's going on! I don't know..." Then she burst into a fit of sobs that wracked her thin body and sent her quaking and convulsing.
I didn't even realize I had moved until I felt her shaking form in my arms. I wrapped them as tightly around her as I could. She turned and buried her face in my chest, soaking my shirt with her tears. I suppose some people would have minded that. Not I; I held her close and stroked her hair without saying a word. She calmed slowly, and began to pull away, but then stopped and leaned into me again. One of her soft hands came up and clung to my forearm.
"My mother doesn't get it," she stated suddenly, bitterly. "She wants me to go to Europe this summer... without Laura. Before that she tried to send Laura away. She told her mom that there were better doctors in Europe. She's trying to keep us apart... God, and just when Laura needs me that most!"
She shivered and I thought she might start crying again. It would have been understandable. "If it helps," I told her, "I know what it's like. I mean, to have everything just sort of... fall down on top of you. To have no one get it. I know what it's like." It was awkward to say, because of course nobody can ever really knows what someone else is going through. I just hoped that Bianca would take it to mean I was there for her and not be insulted.
Bianca responded by pressing herself harder to my body.
"Thank you," she whispered.
We sat like that for ages, there in my shabby motel room. Her breathing was shallow and rapid. Mine I kept even and calm. It occurred to me more than once during that short time that what was happening was insane and completely beyond my character. I was 16 the last time I let a lover burn me. The past seven years of my life had been spent on the run, never too long in one place. Never long enough to let anyone in. And now here I was, for some weird and unknown reason, comforting a girl I had only met three days ago and had no chance of sleeping with. Hell, I wasn't even sure I wanted to sleep with her. Sexual thoughts seemed to... ruin her somehow.
At some point in there I concluded that I must have been going crazy.
"How do you know Greenlee?"
"What?"
"How do you know Greenlee?"
The question came out of nowhere, and stunned me worse than oncoming headlights do to all the creatures that no one wants to run over. The strangest thing though, was that I wanted to answer it. Bianca had drawn her head back and was looking up at me, waiting. I took a deep breath. Then I began at the beginning.
"I told my parents I was gay when I was 16. They took it worse than I had anticipated. So I spent July of that year learning to sleep on concrete." "It wasn't really that bad," I added when Bianca's face took on a horrified expression.
I took a second to remind myself that she was rich.
"Anyway, I had a job working at this fast food place. But since I was so young, they didn't let me work as much as I needed to. I had to find some other way to make money, that didn't require too many hours. Back then I still planned on going to high school again in the fall. One evening I was sitting out in front of some apartment building, the future before me all bleak-looking, and to make myself feel better, I started to sing. Apparently the citizens of St. Louis thought I was pretty good at it." I smiled weakly. "People passing by tossed money at my feet. Some even stayed for awhile. Growing up I had always listened to a lot of music, so I could call up quite a few songs to sing. Occasionally I even got requests.
"I met Greenlee Smythe on a cool morning in mid-August. You heard the song I sang to her at BJ's?"
Bianca nodded.
"I was singing that when she came upon me. I noticed her standing there, staring, about three-quarters through the song. She applauded at the end. I didn't think anything of it, of course. People had done that before, then gave me what they thought the song was worth and went on their ways. But she stayed through four or five songs afterwards, not moving. Just smiling. When I finally took a break, she approached.
"She told me I had a gorgeous voice."
"I can't even imagine Greenlee that young and... well... nice," Bianca commented.
I laughed. "From what I saw today, I hardly can either. But that's what she said. She told me that my singing was powerful too. That it made her feel all sorts of things. I thanked her politely, not really knowing where she was going with all of it. Then she asked if I knew the city. Having grown up there my entire life I told her yes, I could get around pretty well. That was when she asked me to be her guide.
"Greenlee was on vacation for a week. A 'last hurrah before school' she called it. And though she was with grandfather, he had business and no time to take her out. She also mentioned money. I guess that was what got me in the end, because my funds were always dwindling. So I agreed to show her around."
I laughed again. "The first thing she did was buy me some nice clothes."
Bianca rolled her eyes. "Now that sounds like the Greenlee I know and love to hate."
"We spent all day touring, going to museums and monuments and malls. I never met anyone who loved to shop more than her. Finally, when the day was getting late, I accompanied her back to her hotel suite. It was a private room; her grandfather was in another across the hall..."
I paused to breathe. Memories flashed in my head, like some cheesy television montage.
"I wasn't exactly new to being asked up to someone's place for the night," I admitted, looking away from Bianca's face in shame. "And I thought that was why she wanted me there. So I went over to the bed, sat down, and took my shirt off. When she saw me, she looked shocked. She asked me what I was doing. I grabbed my shirt immediately and muttered all sorts of apologies. Said it was just a misunderstanding, and that I'd be on my way. I got up and bolted for the door... But she stopped me. And she kissed me."
Glancing back at Bianca, I saw her eyes widen.
"She took my hand... God, she was so shy. She said to me 'I've never done this before'. I told her I had. She pulled my hand towards her... Put it on the hip. 'Show me', she said. And I did."
Apparently the new Greenlee Smythe didn't have room in her life anymore for the ladies, for Bianca shook her head in disbelief. "No way..." she muttered.
"Heh, I shit you not girl," I replied. "We slept together that night, and every night after. We spent the entire week by each other's sides, and she spoiled me in ways I had never dreamed of. Then suddenly, before we had even begun it seemed, it was our last night. She had a flight in the morning that would take her back to... where ever. We never did trade life stories. We split up that afternoon, and by the time I arrived at the hotel that night, she had done the whole room up. There were candles everywhere. Rose petals. It was something out of a romance novel. When she made love to me I felt like I was flying..."
I closed my eyes, realizing I was about to cry. One tear escaped and trickled, isolated, down the left side of my face.
"Afterwards I held her. She was nearly asleep. And she yawned, and asked me to sing the song I was singing when we first met. I sang it quietly in her ear until she drifted off. Then I left."
Bianca frowned. "You left? Just like that?"
I shrugged. "She had an early flight. And I knew her grandfather would be around to rouse her. I didn't want to take the chance that I might not be out in time. So I took my jacket, the one she bought me, and just left. But here's the kicker: When I got down to the street it was cold, and I didn't have any gloves. So I shoved my hands in my pockets. And inside the right one, I found 10,000 dollars. Cash."
Bianca's jaw dropped.
"To this day I don't know where she got that much or when she put it in there. I bought the old Cirrus with that money, and the rest of it came in handy during the next few years. Eventually I quit my job at the fast food place to work in a real restaurant. Over time I learned how a kitchen was run, and everything else I could learn from the chefs I worked under. I moved on, lived different places. And now here I am, working the kitchen at BJ's. Oh, and yeah, that's why you never see me there. You never look in the kitchen." I grinned at her. She smiled back. It was a beautiful sight; she looked almost one hundred percent better than she had first coming in. Realizing that, a warmth flooded my being. It was so potent I had to catch my breath.
"Do you still sing?" she asked.
I shook my head. "I tried... for a little while. But after Greenlee left it... It just reminded me of her. I couldn't do it."
Bianca Montgomery touched my cheek, where the lone tear had been before, with her fingertips and stared into my eyes.
"You loved her, didn't you?"
"Yeah," I answered. "Her before all others."
We looked at each other a bit longer. I thought for a moment that I was going to be all right. But then I choked, and it was Bianca's turn to hold me in those surprisingly strong arms, as I cried more than I had ever imagined I could.
After seven years I had lost Greenlee Smythe again, and though I was no
longer in love with her, it still stung like hell.
Part 6
I didn't see Bianca for a month after our "intimate moment" together. And in those thirty days I wanted her desperately. Often I would find myself thinking of the distinct chill of her body in my arms. My own naturally low heat made it sort of soothing. She didn't scorch me like others had. Just cool and calm and peaceful. Of course it was selfish; considering the state she had been in when I had last seen her, I should have been worried about her. I was worried about her. But all I could ever seem to think of was her pressed against me like she was that afternoon.
During that time without her I thought about my life as well. Greenlee, though not my first lover, had been my first love. Those days with her were wildly romantic, more so than I had thought anything would ever be for me. It was like a fairy tale; the poor peasant girl gets swept up by the beautiful princess and carried off to the castle. Well... maybe not a run-of-the-mill fairy tale, but those had never worked for me much anyway. And after Greenlee, after the weeks of physical illness and months of emotional pain I experienced aching for her, was the handful of other lovers. But none came anywhere near the passion she and I had experienced. Where ever I happened to move on to, I would find a local bar. If someone looked good, I picked her up and we slept together. It was all in the name of releasing tension. There had been a few who wanted to make something more of it, but when they got too persistent, I left. I guess even though I didn't really think about it, I was always afraid to give my heart away and have it broken again.
And then all at once I realized that I was about to give my heart away again, if the opportunity presented itself. I had to marvel at the way she had come, so subtly, into my life and then thrown everything askew without even making me look up. My head and chest felt light just thinking about Bianca Montgomery, and she herself had done nothing directly to make it so. I had talked to her a total of three times. Jesus! I thought. Perhaps this was what the movies kept going on and on about. You meet someone, and you look at them... and you just know.
I was convinced it could be nothing else. And in spite of my fear of such a thing, I was happier than ever when she bounded up to me as I was leaving my place of employment on a darkening Saturday evening.
"Hey!" she called cheerfully. "Wait up!"
I glanced over my shoulder, keeping my expression in check when I saw that it was her. It just wouldn't have done to let on that my heart was skipping several beats. I paused without turning around and waited for her to catch up to me.
"Long time so see B," I stated, attempting to sound cool. Inwardly, part of myself was rolling its eyes at the rest of me.
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. But I've been with Laura a lot lately," she said casually. Almost like it was no big deal. Was she talking about the same Laura as she had been crying over a month ago? Something had to be up.
"Laura? The one with the heart trouble? How is she?" I inquired carefully.
Bianca shot me a half smile and shrugged. "This heart just, like, fell into her lap. She got the transplant, and she's okay."
Funny, somehow I thought a thing like that would have had her jumping up and down. I didn't let on anything though; I just smiled very simply and stated, "That's great Bianca."
"Yeah," she agreed softly, and her smile broadened. She jerked her head in indication that I should follow her. I didn't seem to have a choice, however, because only a few seconds after we started walking, she slid her arm into mine and held it tightly.
"So... um... what exactly are we doing now?" I asked. "You seem to be dragging me one of the four cardinal directions here, and it's not the one that leads to my place."
"It isn't, is it?" she replied sweetly. "No dear Graham, we are going get some wicked Chinese food and then you are going to accompany me to my luxurious home, where we will celebrate the fact that my mother is out of town on business."
Needless to say, I was beyond puzzled. "Um... why?" I prodded slowly.
"Because I missed you!" she chirped back.
I tried a couple of times to respond, but quickly realized there wasn't much of anything coming out of my moving mouth. So I sighed and followed Bianca's lead in silence. I still felt like I had no idea what she was planning, or why she was planning it with me, but I figured I shouldn't be looking this gift horse in the mouth. Was it not, in fact, the very thing I had wanted to happen for numerous, torturous weeks? So I resigned myself to being happy I was with her and not to question my good fortune. She pulled me along to a little hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant, where she ordered an enormous amount of take-out, and then I was brought, arms full of fragrant food that set my stomach growling, to Bianca's residence.
Goddamn. I had never seen a house that freakin' big.
Seeing the saucers my eyes had because, Bianca grinned. "Tonight you dine at fabulous 238 Crescent View," she stated, bowing.
I rolled my eyes at her. "Goof," I said, play-smacking her in the head after shifting one hand free from the bags of provisions.
She looked up at me, trying to seem angry even though she was visibly grinning, and proceeded to rush at me in a threatening manner. I wasn't buying it though, and stood my ground. Bianca ended up stopping very sharply in front of me, her face inches away from my face. I smirked and stuck my tongue out at her. And that was when she kissed me. I didn't even have time to react before her lips were pressed against mine, wrapped around my outstretched tongue. She sucked on it sensually, and when I came to my senses and started kissing her back, she slid her tongue into my mouth. Her skin may have been cool, but that particular orifice was hotter than hot. I saw red behind my eyelids.
When she pulled back, she still had her eyes closed. Panting in her breath, which came ragged and short, Bianca turned away. Still without opening her eyes and with a shy "c'mon" she continued up to the house. I trailed her, my cheeks still flushed and burning. She unlocked the front door with her key and led me to a room. I have no idea what such a room would be officially called in a house so massive, but it had all the works to make it comfortable; entertainment center, an inviting sofa, and a large, low table which I thought was the best thing I had ever seen at the time, as it was something to set my load on. Bianca disappeared into the kitchen, and so I flopped down on the sofa to wait. My lips still tingled from her kiss, and almost without realizing it, I was tracing them with my fingertips.
When she emerged she was encumbered with plates, napkins, a couple six-packs of regular and diet sodas, and my choice of fork or chopsticks. The girl really knew how to make a barbarian like me feel at home. She laid her array out on the table next to the food and proceeded to grab several of the softer pillows from the couch and arranged them on the floor nearby. In this nest of pillows she settled herself, her back resting against the sofa, between my relaxedly spread legs. Bianca pulled a diet soda off its plastic ring.
"Help yourself," she said.
I shrugged and went about piling a plate high with spring rolls, fried rice, Mongolian beef, orange chicken, and sweet and sour pork. For coming from a hole-in-the-wall fast food restaurant, it was of a surprisingly high quality. Bianca, it seemed, had been prepared for this, because as I was still loading up on edibles, she had turned on the television and started a video that was already in the VCR. I took my heavy black boots off, put my feet up, and enjoyed it. It was my favorite movie actually. I suppose a lot of lesbians will claim Better Than Chocolate as their favorite movie though, so her tastes harmonizing with mine was a coincidence too likely to get worked up over. Still, as cheesy as it sounds, my heart fluttered whenever I discovered I had something else in common with her.
I sincerely don't think that anyone was ever as smitten with anyone as I was then with doe-eyed little Bianca Montgomery. Every so often I would look down at her serene face and forget to breathe.
"You know my mother would flip if she knew I had all these," she commented as Corky was taking apart Violet's sink
"She's not marching in any parades then?" I asked dryly.
"Sometimes I think I'd like to ask her to and, ya know, watch her head explode."
I chuckled and leaned down from my position stretched out on her couch and ruffled the girl's silky hair. It started out a gesture of friendly affection, but before I even knew it, I was idly stroking those long dark strands. I glanced up at the screen, momentarily drawn by the heavy panting coming from that direction, just in time to see Gina Gershon's hand slip under Jennifer Tilly's skirt. Looking back down at Bianca, I saw that her eyes were closed and her beautiful lips slightly parted as her breathing took on a rhythm to match that of those on the television. Bound could always get me going like nothing else, but that combined with the sight of Bianca's obvious arousal... It was becoming too much.
I pulled back when the scene ended. We watched the rest of the movie in
silence.
Part 7
Graham awakened to the feel of smooth skin sliding against her shoulder. The girl nuzzled her with her cheek, wisps of stray hair lightly tickling her cool flesh.
"G'morning..." a sleepy voice murmured into her. Then she felt breath, as from a yawn, sweep across the uncovered skin.
The blonde woman opened her eyes and gazed down at Bianca, whose head moved to rest on her bare chest, and whose naked shoulders and back had been exposed by the slipping of the sheets. Graham blinked her weary green eyes and wondered if she could be dreaming, but when the body draped over her did not disappear, she began to recall what had happened the previous night.
With a stretch and a yawn, the blonde rose from the couch. "I should get going," she said.
Bianca jumped to her feet, a little too quickly to avoid the quirk of an eyebrow from Graham. Blushing, she asked, "Why? I was hoping you'd stay here tonight."
Graham swallowed hard. "... Because your mother is gone and you want company," she murmured, more for her own benefit than anything. "All right then, point me towards your shower. I think after those movies I'm going to need a long cold one." The blonde grinned at the brunette, who seemed to become even more flustered at the statement.
Bianca led her friend up the stairs and showed her around the second floor's bathroom. "Just come to my room when you're done," she said, her voice shaking a bit.
A puzzled look appeared on Graham's face, but she asked no questions, and Bianca left too quickly to offer answers. The woman shrugged, putting it out of her mind, and turned on the water in the spacious, glass-enclosed shower. She had actually always detested cold showers, so the room soon filled with steam which fogged the mirrors and the shower doors. In an instant Graham was out of her clothes and under the soothing warmth of the spray, just letting it soak her lean body from head to toe.
Mechanically she went through the motions of washing her body off, rubbing the bar of soap vigorously over her wiry arms and broad shoulders, then across her chest and petite breasts. She closed her eyes and bit down on her lower lip when she brushed her own hard nipples, slightly surprised at the intensity of the sensation that it caused. She seemed to be more aroused than she had previously been aware of. Reluctantly, Graham pushed all thoughts of sex from her mind, deciding that it wouldn't do to have to relieve herself in someone else's home. Carefully avoiding her sensitive nipples, she continued scrubbing the dirt of the day from her skin. She worked circles down her stomach, then her hips, and then slid around to wash her firm buttocks. From there she moved upwards along her back, getting as much of it as she could reach. Last, Graham leaned down and lathered up her muscular legs.
Having showered already at the day's beginning, the blonde figured that there was no need the tend to her short hair, and her legs and underarms were still entirely smooth and free of stubble. But she took a few more minutes just to enjoy the warmth of the water and beat of the droplets down on her flesh. She leaned back against the wall and let her mind wander to Bianca. Chastely. Not so chastely. There were so many thoughts desperate to be thought when it came to Graham and the stunning girl who had captured her heart. It was the kiss at the bar, she realized. When Bianca had kissed her hand before leaving, in thanks for the drink. That was when the blonde had really fallen, and she hadn't even known it.
As Graham turned off the water, she thought of all that she was willing to give just for Bianca's smile. As she dried herself, she thought about how sweet Bianca's lips would taste. As she dressed once more in her loose black slacks, white tank top, and black button-up shirt, she wondered how soft Bianca's skin would be. And as she opened the door to Bianca's room, she had just formed a mental picture of what her love would look like with her beautiful body bared. Then Graham looked down. Reality hit her in the face harder than any fantasy ever could.
Bianca's body, more glorious than the blonde could have dreamed, was bared and stretched out on the bed, the light of a single, fat candle dancing across her delicious curves.
For lack of anything better, a blank-minded Graham blinked and stuttered breathlessly, "If I didn't know any better... I'd think you were trying to seduce me."
Bianca smiled a nervous smile, and replied softly, "Why do you think I asked you here tonight? I... I... Make love to me Graham..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, only barely audible over the pounding of both their hearts.
Graham moved over to the bed, and she took Bianca in her arms, and kissed her so softly. And her kisses were every bit as sweet as Graham expected them to be.
The blonde smiled when she felt the girl in her arms stir and then bury her face in her neck. Graham couldn't help but shiver as Bianca planted several small kisses there. Then she shifted, turning on her side and propping herself on one elbow. Deep brown eyes met glittering greens, and soft lips came together in a tender kiss. When they pulled apart, Graham glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was nearly nine. Hazily she realized she had a shift coming up at eleven over at BJ's. She pushed herself into a sitting position and stretched laboriously, while Bianca just lay back and watched her.
" I really am," she paused to yawn, " sorry about having to leave you so soon. But duty calls, and BJ's would be lost without me." Bianca giggled at the remark.
Graham dressed and gathered all her personal effects, and with one last, lingering kiss, she moved away from the brunette and towards the bedroom door. Before she left, she stopped and turned.
"Come and see me? At lunch?" she asked hopefully.
Bianca smiled a smile that made the blonde's heart flutter. "Of course I will," she said. "I'll see you then. And... Graham?"
"Hmm?"
"... I love you."
Graham knew that if she had died at that moment, she would have died happy.
"I love you too Bianca."
And with that, she left.
The two young women selected a booth quickly and sat down, wasting no time leaning close to each other. They looked exactly as they were; rapt in the conversation. The blonde was quiet, eyes wide and shining, and head bobbing every now and then to urge her companion on. The brunette was a true sight. She talked, babbled, yammered, completely thrilled, through the brightest smile that had ever been seen on the planet. And once in awhile, if someone had been looking close enough, the beginnings of joyful tears could have been spotted in the corners of her eyes.
Bianca was ecstatic, and her best friend Laura English was equally ecstatic for her.
"... And then she was holding me, and I couldn't move, I mean, I just felt so warm and relaxed and safe... There's no way to describe it, it was so amazing!"
Laura smiled. "You don't need to describe it Bianca, I know exactly how you feel. Leo makes me feel like that all the time..." Something passed briefly over Bianca's deep eyes, but was gone before her friend could see what it might have been. She brushed it off and continued, "So, did she, like, whisper sweet nothings in your ear and stuff?"
Rosy color filled the brunette's pale cheeks. In a hushed tone, as though she were uttering something sacred, Bianca replied, "While we were lying there... I started telling her how much she meant to me, and how I hoped this wasn't just a fling to her and... I guess I was going on and on. And she kissed me, like, mid-sentence to make me stop... And she looked into my eyes and said... 'You're in me Bianca. More than anyone has ever been. I don't think I could ever hurt you."
"Awwwwwwww!!!!" Laura grabbed Bianca's hands excitedly. "That is the sweetest thing I have ever heard! I can't wait to meet her!"
"Oh! Yeah!" Bianca jumped up and flagged down a waiter. "Could you please tell Graham Daeton that Bianca's here?"
The young waiter, who had lived in Pine Valley his entire life, and kept up as much as anyone on the town gossip, turned off towards the kitchen. As he did so, he, like most of his gender, lamented the loss of such a radiant beauty to "the other team".
Bianca had just finished another account from her night with Graham when a head popped up from behind the partition between the booth and the bar, and craned over to kiss the surprised brunette passionately on her soft lips. They parted, and Bianca panted for air, her face more flushed than before. Finally she caught her breath and smiled shyly at Graham, her lover, her love.
"I missed you," Graham said softly.
"I missed you too..." Bianca replied, looking at the other woman from behind her eyelashes.
The moment was interrupted, however, by the pointed sound of a throat clearing itself. The brunette rolled her eyes and gestured over Graham's head.
"Graham, this is Laura."
Graham swung her head around, tossing her shimmering blonde mane, and said,
"Nice to meet..." she stopped suddenly, swallowing hard with a throat that had gone dry, "... you..." She sputtered the last word and then could say no more. She stared at Laura, mouth hanging open. And Laura stared back, in a similar state.
It was like looking into a mirror.
Well, not exactly. Graham's features were typically Western, while Laura held hints of exotic Eastern beauty. But their eyes, those glittering green eyes... And their hair. Same shade of bright blonde, same length. Same round face. Graham felt lightheaded. A deluge of locked away knowledge from back when she had taken a college Psych course flooded her brain, filling it with things she really could have done without thinking. She was clutching the partition for support. She was staggering back. She was out the door.
Laura blinked, refocusing her eyes on her friend.
"I'd say right now she's thinking you were making love to me last night. I
guess the question, then, is: Were you?" the blonde asked dryly while
Bianca's mouth opened and closed in a rather aquatic fashion.
Part 8
I ran.
I ran so hard and so fast it felt as though my lungs were about to explode and my legs weren't attached to my body anymore. But I didn't care. One usually doesn't care about such petty matters when one's deepest, darkest fear has just been realized. I had let her in, let her have a piece of my heart. And what had happened? She had cared only enough to restrain herself from crying out her best friend's name in bed. Dear God... Graham Daeton, what kind of a fool are you?
Horns blared as vehicles were forced the veer at my careless passing. Why? Why did they have to do that? I would have liked nothing more at that moment than to feel my body rise up; to be launched off my feet by the force of impact, and fly, head first perhaps, into a wall or maybe just the street. To feel the life drain out of me, so I would not have to feel this pain anymore...
Damn. I hated having those thoughts. Those silly, melodramatic thoughts. Was I so pathetic that I believed I should end my life to escape pain? No, I tried so hard not to be. But then they would come anyway, lurking in the back of my mind, waiting for me to snap so they could take the spotlight and make me do all the destructive things I hadn't done since I was a teenager. Just another reason not to get close to anyone. Another reason to protect myself. How could I have been so stupid as to let my guard slip? How could I have not expected this to happen?
I slowed suddenly. Tears streaked down my face in rivers.
How could you not love Bianca Montgomery?
That was probably the biggest of my many questions-whose-answers-I-would-never-know.
The madness of it was over when my body stopped. In its wake there was only hurt and aching. It throbbed dully in my chest and arms and head. I trudged then. Trudged back to my motel room where I would pack my things, call an auto shop, and get the hell out of Dodge after my car was fixed. History repeating itself. Maybe I was doomed to live a rerun for the rest of my life. Vaguely I realized I was crossing the Motel 6 parking lot. Over to the last room down on that side. Open the door, and then...
I was speechless, for the second time that afternoon.
Greenlee stared back at me, mouth open, eyes filled with dismay. There were several open bags on the chair and the small desk. One was full of rose petals. Greenlee had a small white votive in her hand, and there were a few other scattered about the room. She put the candle down on the bedside table and then sat on the edge of the bed, eyes on the plain carpet, hands folded guiltily in her lap. I stepped out of the entryway and pulled the door shut behind me. It clicked.
"What's all this Greenlee," I asked quietly, my voice barely a murmur.
She looked up at me. Her eyes shone. Not the rich dark chocolate of Bianca's, but still radiant. If there existed a brown gemstone, perhaps a comparison could have been made. But there was nothing like that. Actually, almost everything about Greenlee was all her own, all just simply Greenlee.
Once upon a time, that had made me love her.
She smiled suddenly, jumped up, ran to the bag of rose petals, threw a handful on the bed, and shouted, "Surprise!" Then she just looked at me hopefully.
I don't think I'll ever know what was going through my head when I kissed her, but it didn't matter much anyway. What did matter was the fact that I strode over to where she stood, reached around to the back of her neck, and pulled her to meet my lips. It wasn't soft, it wasn't tender, it wasn't loving. It was a "fuck me" kiss. She groaned loudly as my hot tongue invaded her mouth, and she pressed her body, clad a bit butchly for her, I noted, in a tight black shirt that showed off her toned upper arms and a pair of black pants that showed off everything else she had to offer. She looked hot. She made me hot. I bit down on her lower lip, my passion only more enflamed when I tasted blood.
She grabbed my waist and pulled me down on the bed, on top of her. I ground my body into hers, working my way so my hips were between her legs. She moaned and pushed up against me, already desperate, trying to feel any pressure she could. I growled fiercely in her ear before licking it, licking down to her neck, which I sucked on for a moment. Then all at once it seemed like she was wearing far too much clothing. I propped myself up off of her and, as though she could read my mind, Greenlee swiftly peeled her shirt from her sexy little body. She had definitely come prepared for this; she wore no bra. Immediately I attacked the exposed and hardened flesh of her nipples. I sucked one, swirling my tongue around it and flicking my tongue across it in my mouth. Then the other. Always I pinched and rolled the one my lips and tongue neglected with eager fingers. Greenlee arched her back, groaning loudly as she pressed her firm figure as tightly against me as possible.
I nipped at the skin of her breasts; short, quick bites all over. There was heat and electricity in the air around us. Even the simplest of touches became painfully erotic in our over-sensitized states. She wrapped her legs around my waist, once again seeking pressure, and making it no secret that she wanted it THERE, NOW. Before I even realized she was touching me, Greenlee had ripped my shirt right off and was frantically working to undo my belt. After tearing open my black pants, she paused to beseige my petite and unclad breasts with a focused passion that was all Greenlee, and that I realized I had truly missed. With strength often underestimated because of her size, she flipped me on to my back and continued her assault on my body. My skin was flushed, superheated, and damp with oncoming sweat. At any minute I was sure I would faint, I felt so lightheaded.
She slid easily up and down on top of me, biting roughly at my neck, tracing random patterns with her tongue over my stomach, sucking my earlobes. Her attention fixed on my firm nipples for what seemed like an hour; just licking, sucking, nibbling, over and over and over until I was on the very edge... And she hadn't even touched my aching center yet. I worked up the willpower to grab her head and pull her up to me. I kissed her, bruising her lips for the second time, and raked my long nails slowly down her back. She arched and groaned, a primal, animal sound that came as though it were ripped from her throat. I held her tightly to me, my swollen breasts rubbing beautifully against hers. She leaned down and purred in my ear. Then she panted. Then she moaned. That was all I could stand. I had to have her, to take her.
Quickly as I could, which, with all my practice, was lightning quick, I tore off the rest of her clothes and stood up to remove my own. As I did so she lay there on the bed looking up at me with smoky eyes. She reached out for me and went to her, mounted her, and pressed my wetness to hers.
I threw back my head and moaned loudly. She was soaked. Soaked and dripping. We slid together, throbbing clits brushing, grinding. I rode her, fast and hard, and she clawed the sheets to ribbons with her perfectly manicured nails. I gave her all the pressure she needed; I let her use me. I used her. We moaned into each other's mouths as we kissed again, teeth scraping lips and tongues slipping together as our bodies were. Her cries and my grunts and low growls filled my ears, making me sweat even more than I was already in my exertion. Greenlee, now robbed of any and all shreds of her carefully kept composure, began to tremble beneath me. Those luscious legs quivered uncontrollably. God she was close. So was I.
And then, without further warning, the world exploded, and from the sound my name being screamed at the top of her lungs, I'd say Greenlee was right there with me. I convulsed, my predisposition to multiple orgasms kicking it. Two, three, five, I lost count in there, but finally I collapsed on her, trying to catch my breath. She was doing the same. Effortfully, I rolled over next to her. The ceiling slowly came back into focus. Every inch of my flesh tingled. I felt raw, sore from passion. Suddenly, a thought I hadn't willed or even sparked popped into my mind.
'It was softer with Bianca.'
Then it was gone, leaving me to wonder briefly where it had come from.
Briefly though. There was a click as my motel room's door opened. Apparently Greenlee Smythe wasn't the only one who could bribe a maintenance man in this town. Think of the devil. I knew it was her before she stepped inside. Greenlee hurried to cover herself, but I made no such move. Nothing here Bianca hadn't seen before. The night before, in fact. I stood up shamelessly, and I commanded down the fire in my eyes as I stared at her.
"What do you want?" I asked coldly.
She looked at me. Her beautiful face were stunned and pained. Eternity passed. The hum of the digital clock on the table was a wasp hovering beside my head.
Then at last she looked away, down at the carpet. "Last night..." she whispered, ".. you said you could never hurt me."
A large pocket of hot guilt settled in the back of my neck. I turned around, turned my back on her, and replied, "There's a first time for everything babydoll."
Another eternity. Percussion in my ears now. My rapid heartbeat; Greenlee's decelerated heartbeat; Bianca's fluttering heartbeat.
I heard the door open once more. Then a pause.
"It wasn't Laura. It was never Laura. Not since you sat down next to me in the bar."
"Are you still here?" I forced myself ask.
Click. The door was shut again. Tightening my body to keep it from flying apart, I slid under the sheets with Greenlee. I took her in my arms, and I looked her in the eyes and smiled.
"Sorry about that," I said. "So... Wanna go again?"
She smiled sweetly back at me, then pounced.
Part 9
The sun had set in reds and golds and purples that held no beauty for her. Darkness now swept in, and the night's chill wrapped itself around her body. She didn't mind it though. She was numb. The water below her looked like a sheet of black glass, gently rolling with the breeze. Turning from the sight, she listened to her hollow footsteps as she strolled across the wooden floor. She stopped when a shudder tore its way through her body. But the footsteps did not. Someone else was in the boathouse.
Bianca looked up from her shoes.
She barely had time to register the phrase that was screamed, "YOU LITTLE BITCH!", before the other woman was on her, smacking with half-curled fists, pulling long soft raven tresses, and trying to push she to the ground. Bianca had been in a few catfights before though, and much as she detested violence, she knew what to do. With grim concentration, she maneuvered her body under those frightful hands. Fingernails connected with her pale cheek and bit, summoning forth a trickle of dark blood. Bianca twisted and turned, finally socking her left shoulder against her attacker's right, so they were at angles to each other. Then she coiled her right arm back and delivered one good solid punch to Greenlee's midsection.
The was a 'whoof' as the oxygen flew out of her, and she herself flew, landing on her back on the floor. One real punch was all it took. That was the only physical tactic for problem-solving that Bianca's father had ever taught her, and strictly self-defensive. Her eyes darted to Greenlee. She had pulled herself into a sitting fetal position, with her knees drawn up and her head buried in her arms. She made no sound, but by the shaking of her form it was easy to tell that she was crying. And while Bianca at that moment had nothing but vicious contempt for her, she simply couldn't bear to see a woman cry.
"Greenlee?" she prodded softly.
The other woman looked up, tears streaming down her face. She unballed one
fist and weakly tossed a wad of paper at Bianca's feet. Cautiously, never
taking her eyes off Greenlee, Bianca bent and picked it up. She carefully
picked apart the tight crumple and smoothed the sheet out. There was a
letter, hastily written by the looks of it, there. Bianca didn't need to
glance at the signature to know who it was from.
Dear Greenlee,
I'm sorry. I know you don't want to hear this, but you need to know. It's just not you anymore. Seven years ago you were everything I wanted. Hell, seven weeks ago you were everything I wanted. But a lot can change in a short time. I guess I could have stayed and tried to make it work with one of you, but the other would have to be hurt, and that would be a hard thing to deal with. So I'm taking the easy way out, again. I know you can never forgive this, the second time I've ducked out on you while you slept. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. Goodbye.
Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you,
Graham
Bianca, barely feeling her hands move, wadded the letter up again.
"She's gone?" she murmured, her voice wavering. Greenlee nodded silently.
The paper fell from her grasp and rolled away unnoticed into the shadows. Bianca felt her legs quake beneath her and she lowered herself to the floor before she went limp. Graham was gone. No chance for forgiveness. No chance for love. Graham was gone. Her chest was compact, her eyes hot. For a minute she couldn't breathe. Then, to her surprise, one of Greenlee's lean arms slid around her shoulders. Bianca turn to her. There was no rage in her eyes. Just sorrow, overwhelming sorrow and helplessness. They came together in one fluid motion, tightly. And as rivals sobbed on each other's shoulders, five hundred dollars worth of newly purchased Ford LTD made its way swiftly north, high beams cutting the empty dark.
In that Ford, a third sobbed with them, though neither Bianca Montgomery
nor Greenlee Smythe would ever know it.
End.
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