Hurricane Days (32 page)

“Okay,” Ms. Donovan urged. “You take the second part.”

“Affirmative action is unnecessary,” Terri responded in a deep voice. “If we live in a country that’s already supposedly free, we shouldn’t have to have special laws protecting special groups of people.”

“But you’re ignoring the reality,” I argued. “We may call ourselves a free society, but the fact is, discrimination is real. It happens every day.” As I heard myself speak, my voice became stronger because I focused on persuading the audience. I stood taller, shoulders back, taking a more powerful posture.

“So where do you draw the line?” Terri shot back. “You protect this group of people, then this group. How do you decide who is protected? Why can’t we leave it up to employers to choose the best person for the job?” A few in the audience clapped.

“Because,” I replied, “we can’t trust employers not to discriminate based on their own biases.”

No matter how many examples I gave, I couldn’t persuade better than Terri, who spun everything she said to suit her argument. Knowing that she was probably gay, I found it very ironic that she was arguing to
not
protect minorities. Of course, that side had been assigned to her. She may not have believed what she was saying, but she was very convincing. Very impressive.

After class, Ms. Donovan called me over to her desk. Knowing I’d lost the debate, and that was the only opportunity for a grade in this class, I felt defeated. I was already imagining what I’d say to Dad once he found out. I went to the teacher and stared down at my shoes.

“I’m giving you an A,” Ms. Donovan said.

“Why?” I asked. “I lost.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re a natural. You need to work on your supporting arguments, but you have a real flair as a speaker. Don’t forget that.” She put her hand on my shoulder. It was a defining moment, trumped only by my sudden desire to be as good at the art of persuasion as Terri, the mysterious girl who convinced an entire class she was right. I really admired her for that. Not that I’d tell her that. Usually, whenever I saw Terri in the dorm lobby or around campus, I’d avoid her. And if I couldn’t, I’d simply look away, pretending to be distracted by something else. I wasn’t proud of that. But I was too much of a coward to ever say a simple hello.

All the way back to the dorm that day, the professor’s words echoed in my mind. The next time I would win the debate. A new resolve came over me. This was what I was meant to do. It was an odd realization. I’d spent so long trying not to follow in my father’s footsteps, only to find that I was most likely destined to do exactly that, and it was okay. With every step, I felt strangely powerful at the memory of myself at the podium. I was relieved that my Play-Doh legs didn’t buckle and that I didn’t vomit.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Adrienne was unusually quiet the next few days, and I was too immersed in my political science texts to notice. It wasn’t until a knock on the door and Sean waiting in the hallway that I looked up from my textbook.

“Are we meeting for supper later?” I asked.

“I’ll be at Sean’s.” She shut the door behind her.

I exhaled painfully, really missing her.

* * *

When Adrienne returned to the room that night, I was already settled in bed, about to go to sleep. “What’re you doing back? I thought you’d be at his place.”

“I couldn’t. I got class tomorrow.” She slipped into her FSU nightshirt, the one with football numbers on it.

“You go to class?” I joked, sliding under the covers.

“Shut up.”

When the lights were out, the room was quiet, and no one seemed to be breathing. If our thoughts could be heard, the noise would have cracked the walls. But no one said anything. An hour passed. Maybe two. I wasn’t falling asleep, but eventually I heard her soft, rhythmic breathing on her side of the room.

I pulled off my sheet and went over to her bed. I stroked her hair, watching her sleep. I smiled down at her, looking at the peaceful face, the only time she ever looked truly innocent. Then I bent down and kissed her forehead and, slowly, her cheek. Adrienne’s eyes opened, but she wasn’t startled; it was like she’d been awake the whole time. Then I gave her a soft kiss on the lips. That kiss led to another, her lips answering mine. It felt so easy, so…natural.

In the shower the next morning, I thought about what we’d done and how Adrienne seemed to want it too. They were only innocent kisses, I told myself, like a drug addict insisting she only
looked
at some heroin. I was so lost in thought I didn’t realize how long I’d been in the shower. I was blinded by the cloud of steam.

When I got back to the room wrapped up in my white cotton bathrobe, I saw Adrienne all ready for class, looking like she was waiting for me to come back.

“What happened last night?” Her face was expressionless.

I was startled. “Well, you were there.” I was scared she was going to tell me she’d been dreaming the whole time.

Adrienne grabbed her backpack, and the way she looked, I could tell she wanted to say something but didn’t.

I held her arm, stopping her before the door. “I miss you.” I touched the line of her jaw with my fingertips and before I reached her chin, she leaned down to kiss me. It was a kiss that told me she’d been very much awake last night. Our lips met again and again, as we moved backward, toward the bed…

“I missed you too.” She dropped her bag and wrapped her arms tightly around my waist, encircling me possessively. I didn’t mind.

We fell upon her bed, where I opened my robe, inviting her in. I couldn’t get enough. I craved the feel of her silky body against mine. The way she moved, the way her breasts felt so soft in my hands. It was pure desire, washing over me. Where I came from, all the teachings back home, were all lost on me. It was as though I was living a double life.

Time and space were lost in that little room until we realized the morning sun had changed to a hazy pink afternoon sun through the window.

She woke from a long, peaceful slumber. As soon as she opened her eyes, she looked at me. I watched her in the pink light.

“I missed Western Civ,” she said.

I started to laugh. “I’m sure you’re heartbroken.”

She smiled at me, holding my hand, watching our fingers intertwined. “It was just review. You can’t make me miss the test next week, though.”

“I’ll try to restrain myself.”

“You’re such a liar!” Adrienne exclaimed, slamming me with a pillow, then imitating me: “We can only be friends. I was just drinking…you
liar!
”

Of course I thought about how she said she “wasn’t queer,” but I decided not to bring it up. We laughed and playfully smothered each other with pillows.

* * *

That’s how it was for the rest of the winter. We were living in our own private, secret world, and no one else on the floor knew anything about it. Sean had stopped coming around, and I was starting to feel bolder about imagining my life in a new way. I still couldn’t imagine broaching the subject with my father, or my mother, for that matter. But here in the safety of our dorm room, nothing and no one else mattered. I didn’t have to think about my family or the reality waiting outside. I could just be. And I was starting to feel more empowered.

Sitting through my classes, I’d smile to myself just knowing I was going to see
her
face at the end of each day. It was really heaven on earth, something I’d never come close to experiencing in my careful life before, the life of a scared girl in a small Atlanta suburb.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Adrienne turned around, wearing a court jester hat. “You like?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I answered. “It’s definitely you.”

She offered me a hat. “Come on. It’s for the Mardi Gras party.”

“No,” I said firmly. “I don’t do hats. No one in my family does hats. It’s the shape of our faces or something. We look really weird in them.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’d like to meet your family sometime.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“You’d say they were uptight. You think everyone but you is uptight.”

“Because they are.” Adrienne laughed and took off the hat, running her hand roughly through her long hair. “Tell me you’re going to the party.”

“When is it?”

“Tonight.”

“I’ll think about it,” I stammered, feeling oddly jealous. Who would be at the party? I’d become accustomed to having her all to myself. But I had to relax and not become some possessive weirdo. I lowered my shoulders and took a deep breath. It was only a party. Maybe it was her history with boys, one boy in particular, that made me so ill at ease.

Next thing I knew, Carol burst into our room without knocking. “Hey, kiddo.” She plopped on my bed. We’d left the door unlocked, and Carol wasn’t much for formalities.

Adrienne glared at Carol like an overprotective grizzly.

“Carol, Adrienne. Adrienne, Carol.” I made the introductions, relishing Adrienne’s curiosity and apparent jealousy about Carol.

“Hey,” Adrienne said.

“Hey.” Carol took a drag off her cigarette, looking unimpressed. “I would’ve called,” she began, “but my phone’s busted.”

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Some film people are getting together later,” she said.

Bette Davis was smiling down on everyone. The tension in the room was palpable.

Adrienne looked at me, silently reminding me of my first party invitation.

“Where?” I asked.

“The beach,” Carol replied.

“That’s where ours is,” Adrienne said.

“Oh, well sure,” I said quickly. “I guess we’ll all be there.” A very diplomatic way to handle the situation, I thought.

“I doubt the film people will be hanging around the metalheads.” Carol had no filter at times. It would be safe to assume Adrienne didn’t like her much at all. So she did her own thing, sneering slightly while overhearing the conversation.

“I’m sure we can all hang out,” I kept repeating, trying to keep Carol calm and from saying anything too provocative. Both Carol and Adrienne had super hot tempers that should never be allowed in the same room—another reason why I was all about keeping the peace.

“If you think so,” Carol said sarcastically. “It’s gonna be real crowded tonight, too many people for my taste. But I’ll go if you go. They’re doing the Mardi Gras bullshit there.”

“Yeah, I’ll go.” I followed her to the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

In the hall, Carol glared at me. “I never see you anymore. Geez, I couldn’t say two words to you without Hawk Eyes staring me down. What the fuck’s her problem?”

“We’re together now,” I said quietly. “Nobody knows, so don’t say anything.”

“You and metal chick? For
real
?” Carol wasn’t happy. She needed a minute on the couch in the lobby. “You’re kidding me.”

“No.” I took a seat next to her. “I don’t know why, but I sort of thought you’d be happy for me. At least I’m not confused about her feelings anymore.” I chuckled awkwardly.

“Right.” She seemed preoccupied. Something else was going on. “I don’t know. I guess in a twisted way, I’d hoped she’d be as messed up as I thought she was. Then you’d come running to me.”

“You wanted to be more than friends?” I asked.

Her cheeks reddened. She wouldn’t look at me. “I don’t know. I thought about it. Didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Honestly, I had thought a few times about it, on those lonely nights in Carol’s room, the only place that had seemed welcoming when I was full of fear. “Rachmaninoff Concerto Number Two.”

“Huh?”

“You were playing that the first night I came over,” I said.

“I don’t remember, but sounds like something I’d play.”

“You’re the best friend I have,” I told her. “I don’t want to lose that.”

“Oh, c’mon.” She rose to her feet and wiped her hands on her extra faded jeans. “We don’t have to get dramatic. I’ll still be your friend. But I think she’s all wrong for you.”

“You’re probably right.” I smiled one of those dreamy smiles that Carol knew she couldn’t penetrate.

“Don’t let her mess with your head,” she warned.

Still smiling…

“Okay,” Carol said. “I got it. Promise me you’ll still talk to us little people at the party?”

I laughed. “Of course. You’re all my friends. I don’t like any of the girls she hangs out with anyway.”

“That’s a good sign,” she said sarcastically.

Before I could respond, she was out the door.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

At the Mardi Gras party, students gathered around a smoldering bonfire at a nearby beach, while a group of shirtless boys played volleyball. Some college kids, concealing their beers, sat together on the edges of lounge chairs that had been scooted together. Adrienne waved at her party crowd as she and I climbed down a steep sand dune. I always struggled to get traction in the sand and was one step away from falling on my butt. I was never what you’d call graceful in outdoor settings.

Nancy, one of Adrienne’s party friends, aimed a camera at us. “Say cheese!” she yelled.

Adrienne and I put our arms around each other and smiled big smiles with the bonfire flames shooting up behind us.

“Hey, how you doin’, girl?” Nancy was already a little drunk. She put an arm around Adrienne as all of us made our way over to the lounge chairs. “It’s been like forever!”

“I know!” Adrienne exclaimed. She opened the cooler nearby and immediately offered me a beer.

“No,” I replied sharply. “I don’t want one.”

She cracked open the can and took a swig, noticing Boyd seated among the partygoers.

“Crap,” I muttered, noticing him too. “I don’t want to go over there.”

“You’re such a diva.” Adrienne winked at me, handing me the can while she lit up a cigarette.

I noticed the flash of light from the tip of her cigarette against a backdrop of color-streaked sky, stripes of raspberry and orange sherbet over an ocean that, like me, was getting more agitated as the sun went down.

I kicked at the sand, already covering my flip-flops. “I’m not going over there.” I’m sure I sounded threatened because I was.