Steamy Dorm

by Kristine Robinson

  They were all three in the study hall, lounging on the sofas in the back. This study hall used to be the veterans lounge, but then all of the veterans stopped coming around for some reason. No one really knew why, they just sort of disappeared. Chelsea thought about bringing it up to her lovers, how it was almost fitting that they be in this study hall because of how the special interest group, one whose members had all earned their place, which had once been here had gone the way of the buffalo was now being replace by a new minority of peoples. But were they really a minority?

  “Nom Chomsky says that everyone is bisexual,” Chelsea said. “Do you two believe that, or think like him? I'm not sure. I've met some really straight white dudes before who would never even think of touching the genitals of the same sex.”

  “I think the same,” Shane said. “I know that might sound silly, but I really do think that everyone has the capacity to love the same sex and whatever other sex they choose. I guess maybe I disagree, in that I think that people can choose.”

  “Yeah, it sounds more like you disagree while agreeing,” Billy said. “And I'm the same way, I think that people can make the choice whether or not they listen to their own feelings and desires. Some people just turn everything off and go from there, and maybe that's one way to do things.”

  “So you don't think there are any truly bisexual people, or straight people, at all? That's interesting,” Chelsea said. “It makes me wonder about my own sexuality a great deal. Do you two ever think about that?”

  “Not really,” Shane said. “I mean, I guess I did when reporters were asking me about it when I joined the team, but not since then.”

  Chelsea wondered why she thought so much about her own sexuality, while the same sex women she was exploring with weren't They seemed to be just enjoying what was happening, going with the flow and letting things sort themselves out. That was a hard thing to imitate, maybe impossible. Chelsea would have liked to think that she could just turn off her self reflection, but she wondered if it was really that easy. She thought that it probably wasn't, and the reason that Billy and Shane were so good at it was that they weren't new at it. Both of those women had been out for some time. Billy was a known lesbian, someone who was often harassed by straight guys who thought she was good looking and were instantly angered by the fact that she wasn't interested in them at all.

  Shane had famously, or infamously, just run the gauntlet of public opinion. It was crazy to see her blossoming now into who she really was, one of the most athletic people on campus, and one of the most sexual. Her sexual side was one she had to hide from everyone because she was already fetishized for being who she was. People from all over would write her letters telling her how they were in love with her and wanted to marry her. Virgins, both male and female, would send her cards of their naked bodies and ask her to take their virginity. It was crazy to think that all of these people were so willing to throw themselves at her. It made Chelsea turn her reflection outward, to be around women such as these.

  Chelsea moved over to sit on the couch beside Shane. Shane gave her a knowing look, one that said, “I know that you're about to make a move on me, but I think we should wait for class to be over so everyone leaves.”

  And that's exactly what happened. The bell rang, and everyone left except for Chelsea, Shane, and Billy. They had the entire place to themselves, and it was something that wasn't lost on them. The weight of the silence their peers left in their wake pressed in on them, making them push their bodies together against one another. It was amazing to feel the warmth, the heat, the vibration of their bodies against hers. Chelsea didn't ever want it to end, that was something she knew for certain. She wanted it to go on forever and ever.

  Chelsea slowly moved her hands over Shane's body, caressing and touching every curve and crevice. It was amazing how turned on she was, and how she could feel Shane's body and mood respond to her. It was something liked to experience, something that made her thankful and grateful to be the person she was. Getting lost in moments like these were all that Chelsea wanted, and it was amazing to think that, as far as she knew, they weren't going to stop.

  As Chelsea's hands turned from Shane to Billy, someone moved to the edge of the door from the hall and stopped. They stood still, peering into the room where the three women were fooling around. It was the study hall teacher, come back to grab the fountain pen he'd left on the desk—the pen was worth three weeks wages and had been given to him by his mother. He needed money, and badly, rent looming up on the next week. He had to figure out a way to raise some funds, and here he'd found some. He pulled out his smart phone and started snapping photos quickly.

  He wasn't a skilled photographer by any means, but he just needed one or two of the photos to come out decently well. They didn't have to be the vest photos ever, by any means. He wasn't looking to win a Pulitzer prize or anything of that nature. The photos only had to be good enough to run in the tabloid magazines that lined the end of every grocery aisle.

  His phone's camera happened to be one of the better one, so he was able to zoom in with crystal clear focus and get the shots of what was going on as if he were up close next to the action. That was really the allure of the photos, he realized as he snapped picture after picture. It wasn't so much who was in the photos, or what was in the photos, it was that the photos gave the viewer what felt like control over the subject because they were so intimate. It was one thing if those being photographed knew what was going on, it was another thing if they didn't.

  The teacher knew that there would be many hungry eyes that would want to see every single inch of the young women pawing at each other. They were beautiful, and they knew what they were doing. The way they were so brazen and confident would also play into the public feeding frenzy that was about to go on. He didn't know if there would be any way for him to get in trouble or not, but because the study hall was about a public a place as it got, he didn't think there would be be anything those with hurt feelings could do besides promise not to behave so badly again.

  That was another thing that kept him from feeling to guilty of snapping shot that showed up the skirt of one of the females—the women all had terrible attitudes. Or at least at times. Sure, like most hormonal college kids, they had good days and bad days. But even on their good days the girls would come in and look at their nails, or stare off out the window. They were never locked into their books, or engaged with anything to do with school. And that was too bad, as far as the teacher was concerned, because they were cheating themselves. But now that wasn't his problem anymore. Now he didn't have to worry about correcting them for the hundredth time about how there was a strict no gum chewing policy in his class, and how if they broke it just one more time he really would make them pull all of the gum off the bottom of the desks.

  The teacher snapped a few more, and then, like the cop had, he just stood there and watched. The women looked so good touching and grouping each other that even though they all had their clothes on, it was the hottest thing he thought he'd ever seen. It was crazy to see three young women all in tune with each other, moving with each other as if there wasn't anything separating them besides clothes. There didn't seem to be any shame, at least, or any reservations about what they were doing that might be bashfulness. Maybe they wanted to get caught.

  After getting what he needed, the teacher scurried off in the other direction. When he got a hold of one of the more popular tabloids they offered him a some that made his knees quiver. He wasn't going to work at that awful school anymore. He wasn't going to have to keep trying to scrape by on a teachers wage that barely paid the rent and left him eating Ramen Noodles night after night. Things were going to change in his life.

  “Do you have any idea what this is going to do to me?”

  Chelsea rolled her eyes. It was her father again. This time he was raging about the pictures of them in the study hall. She, Billy, and Shane had all been caught fooling around by someone on camera. It didn't matter to Chels
ea anymore if what she did affected her father negatively. There didn't seem to be many ways around offending people. Everyone with an opinion wanted to chime in on everything they did, especially after the last scandal. People were going to have a hay day with this one, Chelsea knew it, and so did her father. It wasn't easy to think about all the trouble she was causing, so she didn't. Lord knew that her father hadn't thought about it, so why should she?

  “You aren't even listening to me,” her father went on. “You never are.”

  “You know what,” Chelsea said. “Maybe it's time you listen to me. I know you think you're somehow blameless in everything that just happened, but you aren't, and those are just the facts. So you don't get to sit there and level blame at me as if you're blameless. You don't get to harp on everything I do that gets snapped up by the press. I don't want their attention, do you understand? And I'm sorry I'm your daughter, I'm really am. I wish I had another father who didn't break the marriage apart by getting caught fooling around with someone half their age. You know what I mean? Do you understand me? Are you listening?”

  Her father stood stunned. He hadn't ever heard Chelsea talk this way, and she'd most assuredly never talked this way to him before.

  “You have to understand, father, that I'm a human being, too,” Chelsea said. “And I'm done acting like I'm just an extension of you. I want to be my own person, my own way. I know you'll understand someday.”

  Her father yelled after her as she stormed out of the room. It wasn't long until he was leaving her sobbing voice mails. He was a sad, scared, lonely person inside, Chelsea knew this as well as anyone that knew her father well. He was one of the least likeable people she'd ever met, and she didn't think that was going to change anytime soon. She didn't expect him to change for her. She knew that she wasn't going to change for him. The way she was was the way she was going to to stay. There was no way she was going to change for a politician because public opinion didn't like what she was doing. The mere suggestion of that made her stomach turn.

  She picked up her phone and called Shane.

  “Shane,” Chelsea said. “Sorry to call you so late. I know you have practice tomorrow. But my father and I just had a major blowout and I need someone to talk to about it. There just isn't anyone else in my life like you, and I know you'll know exactly what I'm going through because you just went through it yourself.”

  “I'm glad you called me,” Shane said. “It's important that you talk to people when this sort of thing happens. It isn't fair to you that your father expects you to keep everything bottled up all of the time. There is no way to really do that, so I'm not sure why he would start things out between you two with an unrealistic expectation. It just isn't fair, because there is no way for you to stop considering your situation, and there is no way for him to stop his own feelings. I don't know if this is making any sense. We've been talking a lot about the spirituality behind yoga at my gym, and maybe I'm starting to absorb some of it.”

  “It sounds like it,” Chelsea said. “And I appreciate that. Because I really need to keep my head on straight, and it's hard to do, you know? My father has so much power, and I know he can rain shit down on my life if he wants to. He's already left me a few voice mails that were pretty desperate. He wants me back in his life, because I just stormed out of it.”

  “You know what, maybe he needs to think about it for a second,” Shane said. “And maybe you do as well. I'm free if you want to hang out. Billy is coming over in a minute. They are having a downer of a day as well. Maybe we could play some bored games and cheer each other up!”

  Chelsea laughed and agreed. She loved her friends. It was so nice to be able to get a phone call from someone that made her smile and turned her day around. That was always a good feeling. And now she had plans! And ones that she really couldn't wait for. This was the kind of feeling that her father would never understand, or think was proper. He just wanted her to feel badly all the time, or so it seemed. She wasn't sure anymore what he wanted her to feel, but she figured the best thing to do was try to forget about all of the serious stuff. It just didn't seem like it mattered that much when she was with the other two.

  Chelsea smiled to herself as she thought about getting to hang out with her two favorites. She hoped they had a fun time, even if they ended up skipping the boardgames.

  The three women spent the rest of the early morning playing bored games like Scrabble and Monopoly. It was so good for Chelsea she couldn't deny that her father had really been impacting her mental health negatively, and that, of course, just wasn't fair to her. Who wanted someone who was domineering and unfair to everyone in their lives? Who wanted that around? It just wasn't a good thing, and it was toxic to her like a poison.

  “I'm glad that you decided to come hang with me and Billy,” Shane said. “I know it would have been easier to seclude yourself from everything. That's what I usually do when things like you just went through happen to me. Has your father left you any more messages?”

  “I don't think so,” Chelsea said. “And I'm the one who should be thanking you! You're going to be so tired at practive today, and during school. I know you have a bunch of classes today, so it means a lot to me that you made the time to take care of me like you did. It's important for me to have friends, and to know people who are like me and have similar experiences. Maybe not knowing women like you two for so long has allowed me to succumb to the tug of the easy way out, of not confronting my father with my feelings and making him give me an account as to why he acts the way he does.”

  They all agreed that Chelsea should talk to her father more, and that no matter what happened, Billy and Shane would be there for her. Chelsea appreciated this more than anything. It was so good to have support. That was something she'd been sorely missing in her life. She didn't like to think about how there had been many times when she'd simply given in to the desire to be liked, or to have things go her way without having to put up a fight or pout.

  Now she was going to confront her father, and that was something she wasn't looking forward to.

  “Dad, I think I'm ready to talk,” Chelsea said. “I know that you're probably busy right now, so when you get a chance to look at your phone just text me or something.”

  Chelsea didn't like to put her father on the spot when it came to talking to her, even when it was something like clearing up their latest fight. She liked to give him, and everyone else, the chance to be their own person and do their own thing. Letting people be themselves was important to Chelsea

  Her father called her right back, and Chelsea answered.

  “I'd like to talk,” her father said. “You know that you mean the world to me. And if you want to be in a non hetero-normative relationship with two other women, well then you know what? It looks like I'll have a whole new demographic to court for votes.”

  Chelsea laughed at this in spite of herself.

  “You know what dad,” Chelsea said. “That's the best thing I've heard you say in a really long time. I appreciate you taking the time to call me back. I'll talk to you in a little bit when we're both home.”

  Chelsea went through the rest of her day at school, going from class to class. It was always hard for her to stay on task in class. And today, with so much going on in her life, with so much on her mind, it was especially hard to stay on task. She had a lot to think about, and so little time to process. Maybe processing wasn't exactly what was necessary. Maybe she needed to just act, to just do, and to feel what there was to be felt on the other side of consequence.

  When Chelsea and her father spoke, it was late again.

  “You know I love you, right?” her father said. “I want you to know that I love you. And that I have your back no matter what. I know recently I fucked up, but your mother and I hadn't been in love in quite some time. There was nothing keeping me in that relationship. I should have just told her to go, but she wouldn't. So instead of doing the hard thing, the right thing, I copped out. I know that must sound even
shittier than I feel about it, but I don't want you to think less of me because of it.”

  “I love you too, dad,” Chelsea said. “I just needed to hear you say what you just said. You know that it can be hard when you get lonely. I know you know about that. So, yeah, I guess I should say I'm sorry. Or maybe I shouldn't, but I'm going to anyway. Hopefully you can understand what I've been going through.”

  “I think I sort of can,” her father said. “It's just hard for me to know that I've hurt you, you know? I never meant to do that. I always thought that if I gave you all the money you could ask for that it would somehow automatically make you happy. I guess I fell prey to something that a lot of people fall prey to, thinking that material wealth would somehow replace what really should have been there. I just hope it isn't too late for me to turn things around when it comes to our relationship.”

  Chelsea listened and nodded. She and her father ended up having a cup of decaf coffee together and watching the late night show with a man Chelsea wasn't sure the name of. Her father and his generation seemed to like the late show comics much more than her own generation. She always thought of the late night comics as something people watched when they were working late at night, something that kept them abreast of everything that was happening during the day when they were sleeping or getting ready to go to work.

  When it was all said and done a few days later, Chelsea and her father had signed up to go to family therapy, something her father had been very leery of in the past. It was always great to know that he was willing to go the extra mile, although now the extra mile was going to be the new normal.

  Family therapy went well, much to both of their surprise, and they kept going. Chelsea worked out some of her daddy issues, and realized that, ultimately, her behavior was her own. There was no way for her to blame it on anyone else. She had to accept that things that were in her control were hers to have and own. Her father, of course, had many similar epiphanies. It was like a father shouldn't have done any of the things he'd done to cause so much despair in his family.