Chapter 9

My clarity had to wait, though.

When I got home after school, after different strategies and scenarios regarding my meeting/date with Kate had taken precedence over anything my teachers had said in my classes, there was a note on the front door of my house. When I read it, I was relieved that nothing bad had happened to any of my family members (Eddy was staying late for a club meeting and catching a ride later with another student, and my dad and mom were probably running errands before their regularly scheduled Friday date night that they said kept their marriage fresh). But something bad had happened to one of our neighbors.

Mrs. Jessup, who lived down the street and whose kids I babysat regularly, had left the hastily written message. Apparently Mr. Jessup was in the hospital and needed surgery the next day. She’d left her cell phone number and asked me to give her a call.

I took my phone out of my backpack and found a few text messages waiting for me. I usually didn’t check my phone very often during the day. A couple were from Marie, complaining about whatever class she had been in at the time, and one was from my mom, reminding me to keep the driveway clear so they could park in the garage when they got home later that night. The last message was from Mrs. Jessup, saying basically the same thing her note had. I also had a missed phone call from her that was a couple of hours old. No message had been left on my voicemail.

I hit reply and waited while my phone connected to hers. I was hoping that whatever had happened with Mr. Jessup had resolved itself, but I had a feeling that all my plans for tomorrow might have to be scrapped.

When Mrs. Jessup answered, I knew immediately they were in trouble. She told me what I had expected: Mr. Jessup needed surgery tomorrow, and he would be in the hospital for a few days. His mother, who was supposed to watch the kids while Mrs. Jessup was with her husband, could only come in late in the afternoon on Saturday. When she asked if I could watch the kids from five in the morning until around seven at night, I immediately agreed. The Jessups had always been good to me, and I wanted to help them out any way that I could.

But that meant no workout session with Kate, so my plans for romance would have to be put on hold. When I got off the phone with Mrs. Jessup, I texted Kate, letting her know that an emergency had come up and I had to cancel for tomorrow. I was a little surprised when she texted back immediately, asking if there was anything she could do to help. I’d thought she would be getting ready to cheer at a game or go to some party rather than texting with me. We had a brief back-and-forth while I explained what was happening, and I was really surprised when she asked if she could join me for a couple of hours while I babysat. The Jessups had always been fine with me having Marie over when I was at their house, so I gave Kate the address and we set up a time when she would come over.

I scrambled to adjust my flirting plans, which had all been based on us being in her home gym while I tried to look at least comfortable in training gear. This could actually work to my advantage, since I could step it up from comfortable to cute. I thought I always looked a little funny in sweats and a T-shirt, and I was especially awkward in shorts. I always had to pull them down when they rode too high on my thighs, and I never knew if I should wear long or short socks. Yoga pants were definitely out of the question. Some people, like Kate with her perfect physique, could pull them off. The rest of us had to face the fact that stretch fabric could contain thigh jiggle only up to a certain point.

So gone was the gym wear, and instead I planned on wearing my best jeans and a shirt that always got me compliments when I wore it. If I looked good, I reasoned, I would feel more confident when I talked with Kate. I already knew that we could keep a conversation going from our study session, but this time my end of the conversation would have a purpose. Actually, there would be two purposes: show that I liked Kate, and not embarrass myself doing so. Accomplishing both of those things was not guaranteed. All the confidence in the world couldn't ensure that Kate would find my attempts welcome. Or that I wouldn't make a fool out of myself.

Sometimes you had to take a leap of faith. But I didn't have to take that leap blindly. Instead of letting myself into the house, I turned around and got back in my car. I sent a quick text, and when I got an affirmative answer back a few minutes later, I pulled out into the street and set off for my best friend's house.

Marie lived on the other side of town, but since it wasn't a very big town, it didn't take me long to get to her house. We were technically just a suburb of the city, but had grown large enough to act like our own town most of the time. There was even talk about splitting away and officially incorporating as our own separate entity. I didn't care that much either way since I hoped to live in the city permanently after college. Life in the big city would be so much more fun and exciting than here, where both the houses and the people all looked the same.

When I pulled up to Marie’s house, she was waiting for me by the front door. I had always liked her house. It was smaller than mine, but there was this great porch that ran the length of the entire front of the house. Her mom had put out a couple of rocking chairs, and Marie and I would sit there for hours talking and watching Bob as he played in the yard and with the neighborhood kids. I had a lot of good memories at this house.

But now was not the time for reminiscing. I was focused solely on the future as I climbed up the steps to the porch and stood in front of Marie.

“Tell me everything,” she said without preamble. So I did. I told her about the study date with Kate, and what my family had said afterward, and about Jenny Jeffries and her accidental intervention into my life, and finally about the plans for when I was going to meet up with Kate the next day. We sat there on the rocking chairs talking for real about all the things we had dreamed of talking about when we were lowly freshmen in the same place. Love and when it would happen for us. Not that I was in love with Kate. I hardly knew her, but now that I had finally opened myself up to the possibility of a romantic relationship with her, it wasn’t so farfetched to think that maybe we’d get there one day.

Or I might, at the very least, get a kiss. But I wasn’t pushing my luck too much there. Better to take things one step at a time and not get ahead of myself. I said all of this to Marie, who reacted just as I’d thought she would.

First: “Jenny really came through for you. It sounds like she did it entirely by accident, and probably regrets it by now, but you have a lot to thank her for. And I never knew she and Kate were so close. I wonder what else we don’t know about our classmates. Like, did someone have a secret baby that no one knows about, and we’ll only find out when she walks the stage at graduation with a baby strapped to her back? That would probably make the ceremony more exciting.”

Then: “So now do you get what I’ve been telling you for days? The girl likes you. She’s been trying to get your attention, and you were worried about history class. What else could she have done to get through to you? Corner you in a bathroom and take off all her clothes? Knowing you, you’d just offer to go get her a jacket to put on.”

And finally: “Your plan sucks, this is what you should do.”

There was no way I could go through with her ideas. I had thought any sort of touch was pushing the envelope. What she was suggesting took the envelope and ran it through an industrial shredder.

“There is no way I’m going to kiss her as soon as I see her,” I said to my delusional friend. “Unless I want her to slap me and hate me forever.”

Marie rolled her eyes at me. “I wasn’t thinking of a French kiss or anything like that,” she clarified. “More like what Europeans do, with the cheek kisses. Just make yours linger so that your faces are pressed together extra long,” she said, bringing her palms together, supposedly mimicking Kate’s and my faces as we European-cheek-kissed.

“How is that a good idea?” I asked. “What would I accomplish by pressing my face against hers? Do you want her to feel how oily my skin can get? Because I sure don’t want that. And we’re American, not European. Kissing on the cheek is reserved strictly for grandmas on this side of the Atlantic,” I pointed out.

Before she could rebut what I had just said—because there was no way Marie could let something go if she thought she was right—the front door opened and Bob walked out.

He gave me a hug, which I returned, because how could I not? Little kids gave the best hugs because they used all their strength, hugging with conviction. When they got older, they’d start with one-armed hugs, and little semihugs where they lightly placed their hands on the other person’s shoulders, nominally leaning in. But Bob was giving me a full-body hug, and I wasn’t going to waste it.

When he pulled back, he looked me right in the eye and asked, “You having girl trouble?” I gave a quick look to Marie, who just shrugged back. He was still looking at me when I turned back to him.

“Uh, I…I’m doing okay, Bob,” I stuttered out. “Thanks for asking.” I hadn’t even known Bob knew I was gay. It was a reminder that little kids, in addition to giving out top-rated hugs, also understood a lot more than people gave them credit for.

Bob gave me a serene smile in return. “Don’t worry, I know some people don’t like girls liking other girls, or boys liking boys, but it’s none of their business. You got to be happy, and love always makes people happy. And my friend Danver P. has two mommies who always bring in cupcakes and juice for the whole class, and they’re really nice. Danver L. has a mommy and a daddy, and they never bring in anything.” He then went back into the house, leaving us pondering his seven-year-old words of wisdom.

“He has two kids in his class named Danver?” I asked Marie. “I don’t think I’ve ever met even one person with that name.”

“Danver P.'s sister goes to our school. I think she's in the same grade as Eddy. They have one of those last names that are joined together when a couple gets married. Phila-something, I think. I don't know, the kid never comes over here to play with Bob, and I have enough trouble keeping track of my own school, let alone his too,” she pointed out.

But she had said enough for me to know exactly who she was talking about. “That's Eddy’s nemesis at the moment. Madison Philanuzzi. Eddy's been trying to figure out a way to crush the poor girl, who has unwittingly thrown my sister's life plan off course. Their moms are pretty popular at the high school, too,” I added. Maybe I should try to meet these two ladies. They seemed like great role models for me. Plus, there was the added benefit of pissing off my sister. Though I did risk getting thought of as a traitor, and I wasn't sure what she would do to traitors.

“I still think you should try for the European kiss,” Marie said, bringing us back to the conversation. “It's both classy and seductive, if you use it right.” She paused for a couple seconds, squinting her eyes in thought before she spoke again. “Actually, let's trash that idea. I can't really picture you correctly pulling off anything seductive. You would probably end up breaking her nose by accident. Though that would bring up a nurse/patient scenario, which could work for you. If you play it right, you might end up giving her a sponge bath,” she said lecherously with a smirk.

“You are the worst,” I declared. She pulled an exaggerated hurt face and then draped herself over my shoulders.

“I am not. You know there are probably millions of people worse than me. I'm trying to help you, and you just throw insults straight in my face. Remember, you called me. I don't have to take this,” she threatened as she made to get off my back. I grabbed her arms to keep her where she was.

“You know I love you in a totally platonic way, and that all I say comes from a place of longtime friendship,” I said, trying to placate her.

Marie gave me a squeeze and then sat back down in her seat. “Are Kate and Jenny the you and me of lesbians? Friends through thick and thin, supporting each other in our romantic tribulations?”

“Interesting theory,” I responded. “Except I'm a lesbian and Kate is more likely bisexual, so it's not a perfect analogy. And neither one of us is evil, so, once again, not perfect.” I sent her my most innocent face, which she quickly saw through.

“Oh, come on, Jenny isn't that bad,” she argued. “Evil is such a heavy word. She's always been perfectly pleasant to me, and Kate seems to like her just fine. Don’t be mad she finds you repulsive.”

“When you put it that way, how can I take offense?” I replied sarcastically. However, I wasn’t interested in talking about Jenny Jeffries.

“But what should I do tomorrow?” I asked, trying to get the conversation back on track. “And no more suggestions about sneaking in kisses,” I added in before she could respond with another useless idea. “I need help for real.”

She looked at me seriously for a few seconds. As she gave me a rueful smile, she said honestly, “I don’t know. It’s not like I’m an expert on dating or relationships. At this point, we’re in the same boat with our love lives: nonexistent. Actually, at least you have the possibility of something with Kate. I’m looking at a continuation of my long dry spell,” she lamented.

Marie was right. She was so much more outgoing and confident than me that I forgot we had the same lack of experience when it came to dating. She’d shared with me her crushes and the ups and downs of the couple of dates she’d been on, but there hadn’t been a boyfriend for us to gush or grumble over together. I suddenly realized I was being a bad friend by focusing on my issues without showing even a token interest about what she had going on in her life.

“Hey, let’s forget about all the lesbian drama,” I announced in a chipper voice. “What’s been happening with you? How’s your mom doing?” I asked, eager to find out if Ms. Gills’s life had finally settled down from the days of being a single mother of two children in a brand new town. Most people wouldn’t have been particularly interested in the life of their best friend’s parent, but Ms. Gills had always had my respect. For years, I had been a third-party observer of her struggles to make family, a job, and life work together so that nothing got shortchanged. Now that Marie was graduating high school and Bob was old enough and low-maintenance enough to be with friends and babysitters without causing too much worry, I hoped she could finally breathe a little easier.

Marie suddenly began fidgeting, which for as long as I’d known her had been a sign that she was working out a way in her head to avoid the truth without lying. I kicked myself for not realizing something was bothering her earlier.

“Hey, don’t pull your evasive nonanswer answers with me. What’s going on?” I asked, worried that any number of things could have gone wrong in my best friend’s life while I’d been obsessing over a girl.

She sighed. “Nothing is wrong. Mom is freaking out a little about college and financial stuff for next year. It’s just her usual overreaction to any type of change in our lives. She’ll get over it,” she tried to reassure me.

Her body language contradicted her words. When I held on to her fidgeting fingers to stop their movements, she suddenly clutched at my hands. I didn’t say anything, instead letting her take her time to process what she wanted to say.

“My dad wants to pay for college,” she blurted out. I was surprised at this news. Her dad paid child support for her and Bob, but I’d figured that the payments meant for her would stop once she turned eighteen. The man had been so absent from their lives, I’d assumed he’d jump at the chance to be rid of any obligations he had toward his kids. Needless to say that I did not have a very high opinion of her father.

“That’s good,” I slowly started, unsure if it really was a good thing or not. Marie was pretty tight-lipped about her father, and even as her best friend, I never got a good idea of how she really felt about him.

“I don’t want his money!” she exclaimed, dropping my hands. I leaned back at her outburst. But she wasn’t paying much attention to me. “My mom has money saved up for college for Bob and me, so technically I don’t need his money. I don’t mind taking out some loans to cover what's left. So when he called and said he wanted to pay for college, I didn’t know how to respond,” she explained. “My first thought was to tell him to go to hell and take his money with him. But then I thought of all the things my mom could do with the money she saved for me if I already had college covered. So I just told him I’d think about it and hung up.” She ended by slumping down, as if all the talking had deflated her.

I tried to process what she had just said. I had no idea what to say since this was so far outside of my experiences with parents. I tried my best to come up with something useful.

“You have to think about the pros and cons,” I started, not sure where I was going with my thoughts. “You wouldn’t have to take out loans, and your mom would have extra money—both great things. But on the other side, if you don’t feel comfortable taking the money being offered, then it might taint your entire college experience. And that would be bad, since college is like a life-changing time for some people. But it might not be for you. And ‘taint’ might not be the right word. Maybe ‘negatively affect’ would be better?” I rambled, lost in my own word salad.

“I know all that,” she said as she threw her hands up. “I’ve been over all this in my head so many times now, but I still can’t make a decision. My mom isn’t much help either. She keeps telling me the money is for me and that she wants me to have it, but I’m not stupid. I know that she could use that money for Bob, or herself, or just as an emergency fund. Like, what if Bob needs braces in a few years, or she wants to go on a vacation with her friends for once? It just seems selfish of me to take her money when it could go to better uses,” she reasoned with me. Or maybe herself.

“And what about the other side?” I asked. “Could you take the money your father is offering?”

Immediately, I could tell that I had asked the big question. She ran her hand through her hair and exhaled weakly. “I don’t know,” she whispered with real uncertainty in her voice.

I scooted over and squeezed myself next to her in her rocking chair. I put my arm around her, and she let her head fall heavily on my shoulder.

After a few minutes, she lifted her head and stood up. “This is stupid. We haven’t even come close to figuring out what you’re going to do tomorrow. I mean, this could be a total life changer for you,” she said as she turned to me. This was her way of saying she didn’t want to talk about her issues anymore, and I followed her lead. If she wanted to focus on my dating misadventures, I’d let her. At least I now knew that something was going on and I could be there for her, whatever she chose to do.

I stood up too. “I think you’re exaggerating just a tiny bit,” I told her. “Most likely scenario is that Kate realizes I’m boring, which I am, and never talks to me again. And Jenny Jeffries cackles with glee at getting my hopes up only to be dashed and stomped on and ground into dust,” I said matter-of-factly. Sometimes the truth hurt.

She pointed a finger at me. “That is enough. We’re just going around in circles. She likes you, she doesn’t like you, blah, blah, blah. We’re done with all the useless talking. Now it’s time for action. First, what are you going to wear?”

I told her my plans for the outfit I was going to wear the next day, but I couldn’t get away from the one thing that had been bothering me the most.

“I’m still not sure she likes me,” I revealed to Marie. “I mean, my talk with Jenny points in that direction, but that’s still not a guarantee that she likes me, or even girls in general. Like, what if she wants to get together because she wants to talk about a boy she likes and needs another opinion?”

I wondered if all lesbians felt this way at some point. The uncertainty of my affections not being reciprocated was almost paralyzing me from moving forward with Kate. If she wanted to kiss me or go on a date, it would have been easier if she had been like Sarah and just asked me outright. Although, I didn’t know if Sarah had always been so bold, or if experience had cultivated it within her. Too bad I didn’t have her number or email so I could ask for some advice. What I really needed was a lesbian mentor. Would the Philanuzzi moms be willing to take me under their lesbian wings?

But Marie wasn’t having any of my doubts. “Now you’re being an idiot,” she said. “Stop worrying about if she likes you or not. You’ll know soon enough. Either she shows that she’s interested or she doesn’t. Have you thought that maybe she’s wondering the same thing about you? Sure she knows you’re a lesbian, but maybe she thinks she’s not your type. The only way things move forward is if one of you takes a chance. Are you ready to do that?” she asked.

That was the question. Was I ready? Hopefully when I saw Kate tomorrow she would make it very clear whether or not she was interested in me. If she didn’t and it fell on me to initiate something, then we could be at a stalemate for a very long time.

My silence must have given Marie the answer, because she came and gave me a big hug. I didn’t realize how much I needed one until I was tucked safely in her arms.

“You’ll be all right,” she whispered in my ear. She pulled back and gave me a smile. “I know that you’re braver than you think. You wouldn't have gotten this far if you weren’t willing to try with Kate. There are no guarantees, but you won’t know if you don’t give it a go. And one of us has to lose our virginity soon,” she said, smiling.

I gave her a raised eyebrow in return at her cheekiness.

“Don't get me wrong, I was looking forward to sharing a house full of cats with you in the future, but I’d be happier if you got together with a totally hot cheerleader instead. Just promise you’ll have me and at least two of my cats over for dinner sometimes.” The totally serious expression on her face was only ruined by the mischievous look in her eyes.

I did not bother responding to her. It would only encourage her in the long run.