Entanglement

by Max Ellendale

  No.

  I didn't know what to say back to that, because I didn't feel okay either. While I contemplated my response, Mira sent another text.

  Come here?

  Now?

  Yes.

  Okay.

  "Can you just let me off here?" I asked Angelina as I pocketed my phone.

  "Here? Why?" Her brow furrowed, and she pulled the car over to the curb. "Billie, I've never seen you like this and I'm not comfortable leaving you on the side of the road here."

  "Mira's is a few blocks over."

  "Oh." She frowned as I gripped the door handle. "Is this about Mira?"

  "No." I slid from the SUV, and shut the door. "See you tomorrow."

  "Billie—"

  "Bye, Angie."

  Mira's was not, in fact, a few blocks over. It took me nearly twenty minutes to walk to her condo from where we were, but the distance served to help clear my head a smidge.

  I knocked on her door, and it took her an extra long time to answer it.

  "I don't think what you said to that girl in your class about quantum entanglement was right," I blurted out as soon as the door opened. As before, she wore a similar oversized sweater and leggings combination. She wore no makeup and her puffy, red-ringed eyes stared at me laden with sadness. It burned me inside that I'd caused her this pain just by existing in close proximity.

  "What do you mean?" Her eyes welled up the moment she heard me.

  "Because we're two particles. We collided and no matter how far apart we are, we're both entangled with similar emotions."

  "It doesn't work like that." She locked the door behind me, and we stood facing each other in the hall. A sniffle choked her up and she nodded toward the kitchen. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and she poured me a cup without asking. Unlike last time, she stirred milk into hers.

  "It feels like it could work like that," I said, sitting down at the table where she set the mug down adjacent to her. She cupped her hands around her mug and gazed down in it like a lost gypsy reading a crystal ball.

  "Yeah." She sniffled and avoided looking at me.

  Our hands rested barely an inch from each other as I mimicked her posture. My heart lay in a shattered heap in my chest, cold and sad. "I should've told you how I felt."

  "It would've just freaked me out." She swiped at the tear that escaped down her cheek. "I like our friendship. I liked getting to know you."

  "I like our friendship, too. Meeting you has been a gift that I didn't expect," I confessed, and she glanced at me, surveying me. "Can I ask you something?" She nodded her response. "Have you ever liked a girl before?"

  "No—I don't know. I don't think so." Her gaze dropped to her mug again. "Just you…"

  I watched her struggle with this, nearly writhing in her seat and I wanted so badly to make her feel better. "I'm sorry that you're hurting. I didn't…want this for you."

  "Do you still like me…like that?" she asked, gripping her coffee tighter.

  "Yeah. I do." I sucked in my breath, and mustered up some bravery. "All I want to do is hug you and tell you it'll be okay. To make you feel better."

  My response didn't seem to bring her any solace. She sniffled softly, then took a deep breath to try and settle herself.

  We fell into a bout of quiet, though the tension and unease lingered. I closed my eyes, attempting to keep myself calm. She still wanted to talk to me, asked me over even. Maybe we could recover from our situation.

  Something touched my finger and I opened my eyes in time to see her stroking the nail of my index finger. The gesture brought a soft smile to my lips, and I let her do what she wanted. She looked away, leaning her chin on her other hand as she rested her hand against mine. I gave the tips of hers a gentle squeeze with my knuckles, then tickled her palm. A soft cry left her, and I turned my hand over to hold hers. She remained still for a moment before returning the gesture.

  My phone rang, breaking the quell of the moment. Mira cleared her throat and looked over at me, but kept a hold of my hand. I tugged my phone from my pocket and saw Eve's name on it.

  "It's Eve."

  "Might be work," she said, nodding to it.

  Reluctantly, I answered the phone and held it to my ear. "Olsen."

  "So, I've got my girlfriend in one ear and best friend in the other, both of whom are spouting out your name, Olsen," Eve said, and my stomach lurched.

  "Why?"

  "Angelina thinks you're planning to jump off Suicide Bridge, and Ciara got a frantic call from Saoirse saying Mira benched herself from the game tonight, and won't answer her phone. Saoirse's at work, so she wanted me to call you to check in on her because you are friends. And a cop." Eve let out a dramatic sigh. "What the actual fuck is going on and why is everyone bothering me about it?"

  "Benched herself?" My brow furrowed and I looked to Mira. "Did you tell Saoirse you weren't playing tonight?"

  "Yeah. Why?" Mira nodded, releasing my hand to tuck her hair behind her ears. "Why does Eve care?"

  "I heard her. Hang on." Eve paused, and a tapping sound penetrated the line. "Ciara sent me a text of what her sister said." Eve began reading aloud, "'The Flickers are playing the Double-T's tonight. Mimi wouldn't miss this. That girl has played with the flu or puking her brains out. Something is wrong.'"

  "The Flickers?" I looked to Mira. "That's the name of your team?"

  "Bean Flickers," she said, nodding like it was the most casual thing in the world. Eve and I paused at the same time, but she started laughing, her voice echoing through the phone. "What's so funny?" Mira's brow narrowed and frustration tinged her cheeks pink.

  "Bean Flickers is…" I shook my head, deciding on waiting to explain. "Eve, Mira is fine. Tell Ciara to tell Saoirse to calm down. And you tell Angie."

  "Bossy, Olsen. Fine. Bye."

  I hung up and watched as Mira pulled her leg up on the chair. "You've never missed a game?"

  "No." She shook her head. "I'm not playing. I don't want to do anything."

  "I know."

  "Why did Eve laugh at me?" Mira's entire ego dissipated as her fragility made itself known.

  "She didn't. She laughed at the name of the team. Not in a mean way…"

  "Why?"

  "Bean flicker means… Do you know?"

  "No. Stop making me feel bad." She covered her face and a sob left her.

  I moved from my chair to crouch in front of her, placing my hand on her knee. "Mira, I'm not trying to. Bean flicker means flicking a clitoris. Some people use it to describe lesbians or masturbating."

  "Great." She laughed, though not out of amusement. "Why would they pick that name?"

  "Mira." I tugged her hands away from her face and gripped them. "Almost eighty-percent of your soccer team is gay. Those women we had dinner with the other night, I'm pretty sure they're the only straight ones. I'm not saying this to be mean. I'm just… I'm not trying to hurt your feelings."

  "Shawna named the team years ago before I was on it," she said, her bottom lip poking out as she gazed at me. "I know most of them are gay. I'm not blind to it. I don't care."

  "I know." I gripped her hand again and she let me. "You were very accepting of me when I told you and I appreciated that."

  "What if I've always felt like this, Billie?" She let out a sob, her eyes pleading with me. "What if I was always?" Every inch of her trembled and I worried about her ability to balance in the awkward position.

  "Then you were, Mira. It doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid or that your attraction to men isn't valid." I stood in front of her, and urged her from her seat. "Come with me. You're going to tumble from that chair."

  She listened, and I held her arm as I helped her over to the sofa. We settled facing each other, and I draped the blanket over her shoulders. It seemed to calm her and she snatched a tissue from the coffee table and dabbed at her face.

  In the more comfortable space, she calmed down and a pensiveness washed over her features. "We both like each other." />
  "We do, but I don't have any expectations of you, Mira. Please don't think that," I said, my anxiety kicking up as hers quelled. "If you want me to go away and leave you alone, I will."

  "I don't want that." Her eyes widened, and a hint of fear blanched her features. "I don't want you to go away."

  "Then I won't. I don't want you to go away either…" I blinked away the upsurge of tears that made it to my eyes, though I didn't let them fall. "Not at all." We quieted again for a moment, until I broke it. "What do you want, Mira?"

  She pressed her lips to the sofa cushion, gazing in the direction of the kitchen while avoiding me. We hung there, waiting for her to answer.

  "I want to…touch you," she whispered. "Be near you."

  "I'm right here…" Now the tears left me, and I leaned closer to her. "You can."

  She watched me, as if untrusting that I wouldn't break. As before, she started with resting her hand on top of mine. I gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, and she dropped her hand to my bent knee. A shuddering breath left her as if that soothed her.

  I gave her finger a tug, offering a small smile. "Can I hug you?"

  "Yes." She let out a soft chuckle and I rolled forward to wrap her in an embrace. As if it were second nature, I shifted to my rear and she settled against my chest after. I nuzzled her head with my chin, and we hugged each other at the same time. My tears dampened her hair and I held in a sob.

  There was no denying that I wanted this, wanted her, from day one. From the minute I laid eyes on her, all I wanted was to hold her like this. Against me, Mira felt like the warmth of a thick sweater on a shivery fall night. In my arms, she was something that I'd never had before. She felt like home.

  Every bit of her slowly relaxed, her head on my shoulder while she stroked the fingers of my hand that I rested on my stomach. I didn't know what to do anymore than she did at this point and it showed. If she were anyone else, anyone who I wasn't worried about losing, I would've kissed her by now. But she had to be sure, of both her feelings and what she wanted, or all of this would end in ruin.

  "What are we supposed to do now?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

  "We have some decisions to make about our futures. But not yet. Not while we're upset and exhausted," I said, nuzzling her head again. "Did you sleep at all?"

  "No. Did you?"

  "In the car while Angelina drove. Not last night."

  "What time is it?"

  "Around three. What time is your game?" I asked while rubbing her back in slow circles.

  "Seven."

  "I think you should play, Mira. It's important to you and I don't want you to regret it later…"

  "I haven't worked out all weekend. I'm not ready." She let out a soft sigh.

  "Maybe, but it'll get everyone off your back at least?"

  "Will you come?"

  "Of course."

  "Okay." She closed her eyes, and pulled the blanket over her shoulder. "Can we nap for a little?"

  "If you like…" I looked down at her when she met my gaze. "Just like this?"

  She nodded, dropping her head on my shoulder again. "Just like this."

  "All right." I leaned my head back on the cushions then lifted my phone to set an alarm for two hours. "Just in case."

  Mira closed her eyes and I watched her as an occasional tear slipped down her cheek. It didn't take her long to pass out, but I couldn't settle enough to do so. One thing I did focus on, however, was holding her and envisioning the conversation we would have at some point, about what it meant when a straight woman develops feelings for another girl.

  We arrived on the field around six-thirty, and I sat in the bleachers closest to the player's bench. Mira's usual spunk dimmed while she warmed up, though every so often, she glanced at me as if making sure I was still there.

  "You knew I wasn't going to miss this," said the voice of Eve from somewhere behind me. I turned to see her approaching with Ciara. "One doesn't get frantic phone calls and simply ignore them."

  "Don't meddle," I warned, turning away from her to watch the women practicing in their neon pink jerseys.

  "I'm not." Eve dropped down beside me, and Ciara on the other side of her. "I'm observing."

  "Didn't drag Angie with you?" I asked, leaning my elbows on my knees.

  "Nah. She'll have you to herself tomorrow."

  "Is everything okay?" asked Ciara, her brow furrowed with concern. "Saoirse was freaking out."

  "Everything is fine." I gestured to the field. "Can we just watch them, please?"

  To my surprise, Eve gave my shoulder a pat, then both of them respected my wishes. Mira jogged over to the bench after they called off the warm ups before the game. She offered me a small smile and I winked at her.

  Where are you? Eleanor's text message made my phone buzz in my palm.

  At Mira's game. All okay?

  Yup. I'm home. Are you upset with me about last night? You went right to bed then didn't talk to us this morning.

  No, sweet girl. I love you. My heart took another blow and I could hardly keep myself together in front of all these people. You were right about some things.

  About what?

  Can we talk later tonight?

  Uh huh. Love u 2.

  "You okay?" asked Eve softly, no evidence of teasing in her voice.

  "It's been a rough few days." I sighed and watched Mira talk with Saoirse. Mira didn't say much and mostly stared at her while she spoke.

  "Looks like it."

  "Does it?"

  "Yeah. You look tired."

  "I am."

  The women took their places on the field and instead of center field, Mira now hung back by the goalkeeper. I had no idea what position she actually played, but it was notably different.

  "If I ask you something, Eve, will you promise to keep it between us? And Ciara, obviously, since she's right here." I glanced to her and she nodded. Both of them turned their attention to me. No one crowded us in the bleachers tonight which helped the situation.

  "I have a hard time keeping things from Angelina…"

  "I'll talk to her about it eventually, but for right now, could you?"

  "Okay." Eve turned slightly, a concerned expression tucked between her auburn bob. She bent her knee on the bench and I gestured to her foot.

  "Stilettos at a soccer game? You're crazy," I said.

  Ciara laughed and leaned over to bite Eve's shoulder. "Told you."

  "Shut up, both of you."

  "Nope. We're going to laugh at you sinking in the grass as you walk out tonight," teased Ciara.

  Eve waved her off. "What'd you want to ask?"

  "About you and Ainsley…"

  Eve's eyebrows lifted. "What about us?"

  "You had a crush on her a long time ago, right? When you were friends and colleagues?"

  "Briefly, yeah. It never went anywhere." Eve shrugged. "Why?"

  "A few years ago, when she told you she liked you. Did you like her?"

  "At that point I didn't," she said casually. "We went on a few dates, but it was more out of me feeling obligated. I felt responsible for how she felt about me."

  "Yeah." I smirked when I heard that. "Understandable"

  "You're angling at something, but I get why you're asking." She glanced to Mira as she jogged down toward the far end of the field. "Ainsley was in denial forever. I was a vehicle for her in a way."

  "Right. But what if she truly didn't know, rather than just being in denial?"

  "Billie," Ciara jumped in and I turned my attention to her. "Just so you know, everyone on Saoirse's team has believed that Mira was gay for years. She says she's straight and they honor it. You like her, right?"

  "I do, but that's not—"

  "It's always risky to crush on straight girls. Or closeted girls. Or girls in denial," Eve added, glancing from Mira back to me. "If you tell her how you feel, it might go bad."

  "No, it's—"

  "Really bad. If she's not ready—" Ciara began, but I attempted to s
alvage this conversation.

  "It's not that, she—"

  "Be careful, Olsen. Seriously…"

  "Listen for a second. I think I explained this wrong." I sighed and dropped my head in my hands. "Yes, I've liked Mira from the beginning. I like her a lot, but I kept it away from our friendship as best I could."

  "And now you're sucking at it?" asked Eve.

  "No, I—" I couldn't finish my sentence. "Never mind. This isn't the place to talk about it."

  "But," Eve began, but Ciara nudged her, shaking her head.

  "Let her be," she said under her breath.

  The game carried on as one of the most uneventful of all that I'd seen so far. Mira's lack of enthusiasm seemed to bleed into the others. By the end of the first half, neither team scored any goals.

  When she returned to the player's bench, she took a swig of water from her bottle, her eyes never leaving me until she set it down. I stood up from my spot, then strode across the grass toward her. She met me halfway as other friends and fans surrounded the team to chat. Like at her last game, Mira stood extra close to me and I didn't hesitate to hold my hands out to her. I expected her to waver, to hide her reaction, but like last time, she moved into my arms, and I set my hands on her waist. Hers fell to my forearms, and we repeated our position, an important re-enactment for both of us.

  "Last time we were like this, I urged you to calm down," I said, my voice soft.

  "Because I was angry at myself for the way I felt about you…" she admitted and I held her gaze.

  "I know. How do you feel about people seeing us standing here like this?" I rubbed her sides as if soothing her from being upset even though she didn't seem to be.

  She glanced around us, hiding her lips against her shoulder for a moment before looking back to me. "I don't know."

  "It's something to think about. Right?" I said, keeping my tone soft.

  "Everything is." Her hands tightened on my arms. "I don't want to go to dinner with everyone afterward."

  "You don't have to. Tell them you still don't feel well. It's the truth, isn't it?"

  "Yeah." She glanced around us again, and reciprocated the stroking movement on my arm. "What if I wasn't always like this? What if I just like you?"

  "Then it must mean we're pretty special to each other if only I could change your feelings so dramatically, perhaps," I suggested. "Maybe we were supposed to meet. Do you believe in things like that?"