Never Say Never (10 page)

“Oh, it happened all right,” I assured her as I took another sip of wine. “The biggest difference in my involvement with girls and boys was that the guys were a social thing. And a physical thing too. I was always a very curious little girl.” I wiggled my eyebrows as I placed a pillow against the headboard and leaned back.

“But girls were different.” I let my mind drift back in time and recall memories that I hadn’t thought about in a long time. “I was always more emotionally attached to girls. My best friends were always too important to me. And they broke my heart the way no boyfriend ever did.”

“How so?”

“Because they didn’t feel the same way I did. For example, when my best friend in high school decided to go out with a boy one night instead of with me to the movies like we’d planned, I was completely crushed.” I shook my head as I remembered.

Sara nodded, accepting my explanation. “When did you know?” She moved her chair around and propped her legs on the end of the bed.

“I dated guys all through high school. Then I went to college and fell head over heels for my roommate.” I laughed with irony, smiling as I reminisced. “I didn’t realize what was happening. I simply developed the same attachment for her that I had with my best friends before.”

“Wait a minute.” She held up a hand. “What do you mean you didn’t know what was happening?”

“It’s tough to explain. I didn’t put a label on my feelings for her. All I knew was that I loved being with her. That we had fun. We did things for each other. You know, silly little mushy things. But it took a long time to realize I had a huge crush on her.” I took another sip of wine and emptied the glass. I didn’t bother objecting when Sara offered to fill it again. I waited for her to settle back into her chair before I continued.

“She was —”

“She?”

“Julie.”

“Julie,” she nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Julie was like no one I had ever met before. She was from the West Coast, and she wasn’t afraid to say or do anything. Now
she
was guy crazy.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“You’re spoiling the story.”

“Oops, sorry.” She clucked her tongue. “Go ahead.”

“So with Julie, anything went. She was the most sexual person I had ever known. She loved sex and loved talking about it. She was the first woman I had ever met who actually admitted to masturbating.” I laughed hard, remembering the way I had tried so hard to be nonchalant when Julie was ranting and raving about the wonders of self-pleasure. “Julie loved to tell me about her sexual fantasies, and one of them was about being with a woman.”

“She told you that?” Disbelief covered her features.

I nodded deliberately. “Oh, yeah. Nothing fazed her. She had always wondered what it was like to do different things sexually, and being with a woman was one of them.”

“She told you that?” Sara’s jaw dropped slightly.

“Yes. She told me that, along with a lot of other fantasies. Now keep in mind that I was pretty shy back then and relatively naive.”

Sara harrumphed at my words.

“Well,” I reconsidered. “Not that naive,” I admitted. “But I was shy. I spent months trying not to let her know how shocking I thought she was. I wouldn’t react, you know?”

“You mean you kept your cards close to your chest?”

“Exactly.”

“You do that now.”

“See? I told you not to take it personally.” She smirked, and when I didn’t pick up the story again right away, she prompted me. “Well?”

“So anyway,” I continued. “We were roommates all of freshman year. By Christmas time I was completely infatuated with her. The more she talked about that curiosity of hers, the more I started thinking about it. The more I thought about it, the more I knew that I wanted it. Then one night late in February, we were lying around and she brought it up again. But this time she asked whether I had ever thought about it, and she asked if I was curious too.”

The humor had left Sara’s face. She was listening intently, completely focused.

“My heart was in my throat. I panicked like crazy because the last thing I wanted was for her to know that I was in love with her. So, as casually as I could, I made some offhand comment about not having thought about it much but that I might be remotely curious.” I was becoming animated as I settled into the story.

Sara did laugh now. “This is so
you.
” I wrinkled my brow. Maybe she knew me better than I’d thought.

“I don’t remember exactly how it started, but she began suggesting that since we were both curious, we should try it out with each other. Experiment a little.”

“I can’t believe this. She manipulated you.”

“Believe me, I wanted to be manipulated.”

“So then . . .” Sara waved me on.

“Then nothing. For two solid months after that, she tortured me daily
.
And I mean
daily
. We would talk about it, get to the point where I thought it was about to happen, then she would start a philosophical dialogue about the pros and cons. She would come up with reasons why we shouldn’t do it. One day she was afraid that it would jeopardize our friendship. The next day she would change her mind and play with me and flirt outrageously. Then she would shut down again.” I closed my eyes for a moment and exhaled loudly. “It was awful. I was up then down, up then down. And all the while, I wanted her so bad it hurt. But I wouldn’t tell her.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was too afraid that if I brought feelings into it, she would be completely turned off and back away. I wasn’t about to give her one more reason not to do it.” I was frowning as I remembered those tortured feelings.

“So that’s it? The whole story?”

“No. Right before summer vacation, she made it absolutely clear that she had made up her mind. There was no way, no way, she was ever going to sleep with me. She went home to L.A., and I went back to Detroit. I spent the entire summer completely, utterly miserable. I pined away for three solid months. But the good part was that I started connecting everything in my past and how I had felt about my best friends. I figured it all out. I couldn’t actually say the words, but inside I knew what was going on with me.”

“What did you do about it?”

“Nothing at first. It didn’t occur to me that I could meet other women like me. I wasn’t focused on the fact that I was a lesbian so much as that I was in love with Julie. She was the only one I wanted. So I waited and waited until we were together again that fall.”

“Were you roommates again?”

I nodded. “It was awkward at first. She acted like we had never even talked about it. She went out with one guy after another, and I just kept to myself. I was pretty miserable by then.”

“I’ll bet.” Sara had finished her wine and set the glass down on the table behind her. “Did it ever come up again?” 

“Oh, yeah. Eventually we started getting close again. And just when I was getting my hopes up again, she dropped a bombshell.”

“What?”

I looked at Sara squarely, the pain of the past nearly choking me. “She told me that she had slept with an old girlfriend of hers over the summer.”

“No!” Sara looked stricken. “How could she do that to you?”

“My thoughts exactly. She said that she had still been curious, but that she was able to sleep with the other woman because she didn’t mean as much to her as I did. Go figure.”

“Oh, Leslie, that’s awful.”

“It was. I don’t know how I got through classes, but I did. And somehow later that year, we finally did sleep together.”

“How did it happen?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I was giving her a back rub or something, and she started kissing me.” I stopped for a moment, rather pensive. “But you know, it wasn’t really the same by then. It was a letdown. My feelings were tarnished.”

“So wait a minute. What happened after you slept together?”

“The next day I got up and went to class. I was on top of the world. I even stopped on my way home to buy her a rose.”

“Nice touch.”

“She didn’t show up after class like usual. So I waited and waited until finally she came in around midnight. She was evasive. So I gave her the rose.” My chuckle was harsh. “She thanked me, then told me that it had been a mistake. She liked men, and it would never happen again. Period. And it never did.” I drained what was left in my glass. “And that, my dear, is the end of the story. My one and only experience with breaking rule number one.”

“Rule number one?”

“Rule number one,” I quoted, “Never, ever get involved with a straight woman.” I looked at her furrowed brow and then realized what I had just said. “Sorry. Nothing personal. It’s an old lesbian credo.”

She chewed on that mentally, then thought to ask, “Did you ever get to tell her how you felt?”

“No. So much happened after that. I still talk to her now and then, but I don’t think she ever really knew. Or wanted to know.” I stopped and then added as an afterthought, “She’s married now.” She stared at me for a few moments, her expression serious.

“I’m sorry, Leslie. You must have been devastated.” I admitted that I probably was. “But that was a long time ago.” I held out my wrists to show her, trying to lighten the conversation. “See? No scars.”

“Not that I can see, anyway.”

“Ooh,” I groaned, feeling my walls beginning to rise. “You’re analyzing me again. I’ve gotten over most of that old stuff. I’m sure you’ve got some real horror stories yourself.”

“A few, maybe.” She smiled at me now, the first time in quite a while. “You’re trying to turn the tables on me again, and I’m not falling for it.” She yawned and stood up to stretch. “Hey, you’ve got a date tomorrow night.”

“That’s right, I do.” I smiled back. “Now who’s trying to turn the tables?”

“I was just getting used to having dinner together every night.” She cocked her head to one side and pouted. “What am I going to do without you?”

My heart skipped a beat. “I’m sure that you’ll manage.” She wandered across the room a couple of times, not meeting my gaze. Finally, she reached for the door to her room. “I think, Leslie Howard, that in the future you should try to schedule your dates so that they are a little more convenient for me.” A guffaw escaped my lips. The nerve of that woman! “You’re absolutely right, Sara,” I mocked, playing her game. “I have my priorities confused.”

“I’m glad we got that settled,” she teased, grinning. “How about breakfast?” She motioned her head toward her room. “My place. Just for a change of scenery.”

“Sure.” I laughed, then wished her a good night.

We ducked out of work a little early Friday afternoon to go shopping. Sara needed to pick up a gift for her sister’s birthday that weekend, so I decided to join her, hoping that I might be able to find a new outfit to wear that night with Michelle. I didn’t tell her why I wanted the new clothes, but it didn’t take her long to figure it out. Soon she was on a mission, trying to find me just the right ensemble.

“What kind of look are you going for?” she asked as we entered her favorite clothing store.

“Something that doesn’t make me look fat.” She groaned and rolled her eyes. “No, silly. What kind of look do you want. Fun? Seductive?” She was grinning as she held up a thin, low-cut frilly blouse that wouldn’t have covered either one of my breasts.

“Very funny.”

She cackled at my response, quite tickled with herself, and put the blouse back on the rack.

“I just want some new pants and a shirt,” I told her.

“Do you think you could narrow that down for me just a bit?” I was beginning to wish that I hadn’t decided to tag along with her.

“Okay. Nice pants. Casual, not too dressy. And a long-sleeve shirt, I think. Nothing funky or anything. Simple. Something soft.”

“Soft?” she drew the word out suggestively. I rolled my eyes and watched as her fingers brushed across one shirt after another.

“Feel this.” She was holding out the sleeve of a bright red shirt. Humoring her, I reached out and slipped my fingers over the fabric.

“Ooh, soft. Very nice.”

“Ramie,” she told me, and lifted it off the rack. “I’m not wild about the color, though.”

“Me either.” She shook her head and put it back, her eyes already scanning the store. With the look of a hunter going in for the kill, she zeroed in on her prey.

“This is it!” Beaming, she pulled down a cobalt-blue version of the red shirt she’d just shown me and held it out for my inspection.

“Much better.”

She turned it around and held it to my chest. “Hold it up so I can see.”

Embarrassed, I did as she asked, trying not to shrink under her scrutiny. Her eyes traveled up and down, from my face back to the shirt.

“Perfect,” she announced, a satisfied grin on her face. “This color is really good on you. It brings out the color of your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“Yeah. They’re blue.” She tugged the shirt from my grasp and leaned closer until barely six inches separated us. Her eyelids dropped, and she smiled lazily at my discomfort. “I suppose you thought I never noticed.” If I didn’t know better, I would have thought she was flirting with me.

“Would you like me to tell you some other things I’ve noticed about you? Her eyes never left mine as a slow, seductive smile crept to her lips. Her green eyes were bright as she tipped her head to one side, daring me to call her bluff. At least I thought that’s what she was doing.

“You’re playing with me.” The words spilled unchecked, sounding as incredulous as I felt. I could feel the color rise in my cheeks.

“Playing with you?” The grin widened. Sara was feigning ignorance.

“Toying,” I offered, relieved.

Her voice dropped even lower. “I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to toy with a lesbian.” her face remained teasing, coaxing.

I watched her for a moment, studying those huge eyes and beautiful white teeth.

“Somehow Sara,” I told her, in a voice that I hoped equaled her tone. “I’m sure you’d do just fine.” The words sounded like a challenge, even to my own ears.

Our eyes locked. We were so close I could hear her breathing, smell her light perfume. For the first time ever, I noticed the ring of gold flecks that circled the green of her eyes, the splatter of light freckles across the bridge of her nose. Those full lips, slightly parted, looked so soft, so wet.
If I lean over just a bit . . .