To Be a Lesbian

by Yuriko Hime

  "Of that?" I gave an airy laugh. "Nope, not me. It's just a film. My friend likes that though. Remember her? You sort of met when we were chased in the rally."

  Recognition dawned on her. "Oh yeah. Lulu was it?" I nodded. Lynx paused the film to the part where the Nosferatu was gliding to its victim. I turned away. Nightmare inducing much? "Didn't you tell my grandma that you're going to study Sociology?" She pointed the remote to the screen for emphasis. "That vampire you're so afraid of has an interesting link to society."

  "I'm not scared of it, okay? But go on."

  She waited for me to pop my knees on the chair and hug them to my chest before continuing. "The films and books about vampires originated from superstitions. In the old days and until now, some people in rural areas believe that they have to bury their loved ones properly or go to drastic means of impaling the heart of the deceased, or the dead would come back to hunt them as a vampire. In modern times, all you have to do to see one is to check the latest issue of magazines, watch TV, or see a movie."

  "Tell me something I don't know," I said, making her smile.

  "Why are we humans so obsessed with the creatures of the night?" she asked. "Is it their good looks? Their perfect hair? Their what if I'm the bad guy one liners that either make you want to worship the ground they walk on or cringe so bad the moment they say it?" Lynx smiled ruefully. "It's more than their sexual appeal, old money saved from centuries, and the promise of immortality. Humans are drawn to the idea because despite the advantages, vampires are lonely. They hide in the shadows. They can never see the sun. They are never understood, making them the biggest emo of them all." We both chuckled.

  "Anyway," Lynx continued. "Vampires are destined to be alone for all eternity. Or even if they find a mate, they're meant to be solitary. People view them as different, and that uniqueness is what's so enticing. More than the power, the danger, and the beauty, society likes the idea that regardless of being alone, they can still find life. They don't need to conform to live. They can just be, and it will be awesome. There's a psychology behind it and a big significance to society." She switched the screen off and jumped to her feet. "Zombies are pretty much the same. I'd like to stay and chat about it, but I promised someone a house tour."

  Her soft curves swayed sexily as she walked out of the room. Wait, did I just use that term for her? I put my hands on my face. She had the brains I've been looking for in a partner. Granted that she had the audacity to challenge me, but wasn't that what this thing was all about? What thing exactly? Baloney! It was all baloney. Why did she have to be a woman, and why was I even thinking about these things? I should really get myself a boyfriend.

  Lynx had been waiting for me by the stairs. "Are you ready to tell me your conclusion?" she said.

  I couldn't meet her eyes. "In a few."

  "Alright. This way." The next room we came to was full of shelves that showcased broken ceramics in different sizes. The smell was masked by a cleaning solvent, but I could still detect a hint of mold. "Don't touch anything." She should have said that faster. I had already seized a plate from the display rack, brushing the dust away. Lynx was quick on her feet to get to my side. "That's old," she said. "Very old."

  I was well-aware of that. The thing felt fragile, as if it would break if I squeezed too much. But of course I was going to give her a hard time about it. "I'm sure my father can pay for this if it breaks," I said, waving dismissively at her with the hand that wasn't supporting the plate.

  She pressed a palm on her chin. "It's irreplaceable. Priceless. Let's get out of this room," she urged. "I have other places to show you." I ducked away from her when she attempted to get the plate. Her shoulders tensed. "Is this your way of getting back at me? It's working. Kindly give that back before it ends up more cracked than it already is."

  Absolutely not. This was rare. It was the turnaround of the century. "What if I don't want to?" I said, grinning at her.

  She blew a lock of hair from her face and reached a hand. "Give it back," she said. Oh-hoho. She was so pissed. Served her right for making me think out of character. We should take this to a whole other level.

  The plate suddenly slipped from my fingers. Woops. Lynx's eyes widened in horror, her face white as a ghost. I caught the plate in the nick of time. "How clumsy of me," I said. She should have known that I wasn't a butter finger. Scotland was my name, and coordination was my game.

  Lynx didn't like me playing with her ceramics. She marched to me and snatched the plate, and propped it back carefully on the shelf where it belonged. Now I had done it. Magnifique! She was calmer when she faced me again. Unreasonably so. Uh-oh. "Come here you," she said. "You want naughty. I'll show you naughty." Lynx swept me from the floor and onto her shoulder like what she did at the party on The Cove. My head was upside down.

  "I hate to say this," I said. "But if you think you're going to have your way with me, you'll find yourself in the hospital."

  "Quiet!" One command from her and I shut my mouth. The hell?! We exited and entered another room where she tossed me like a rag doll to the bed. I winced when my buttocks hit the mattress. Lynx studied my face briefly, then went to the connecting room. I rubbed my sore behind. It felt like she'd whipped me with a belt for our game. It was just starting to ache. I stopped rubbing when she came back.

  "What's that?" I said, referring to the small container she had on her hand.

  She twisted the cap open. "Pull your pants down," she said.

  Was she for real? "Let me make this clear," I said, trying not to snap. "I'm not a gigolo. What is it with people and thinking they can get a girl to have sex with them after treating them to dinner or showing them around a place?" My nostril flared. "I'm sick and tired of being viewed that way. Having a pretty face and being a tease does not equal consent. I can parade myself around naked and still not want to have intercourse with anyone, Lynx."

  "Are you done, Scotland?" She dangled the bottle between her fingers. "This is used for soothing irritated skin. I'm assuming you're aching after our game." Her eyes flashed. "I'm not initiating anything." She moved to get away from me.

  Was that so? I didn't think she'd care to notice. I quickly grasped her hand. "Wait. . ." My head lowered. "I. . . I was wrong." That wasn't so hard to say was it? Now for the rest. "Please apply it on me."

  Lynx was quiet when I unbuckled my belt for the third time on her house. It was cool and all that, but wasn't I missing something here? My thoughts raced. In order for her to put that on me, I'd have to shove my underwear aside too. She'd see those buns in all their round glory. Since when had I been so modest? Normally, I didn't have qualms about other women touching or seeing me. There had been hundreds of massages done. People had seen me in my bikini on the beach. Why was this suddenly hard?

  "Did you change your mind?" she said. Lynx appeared like she'd forgotten about the small detail too. If she wasn't bothered by it, then why should I? Tugging my pants down, I turned around and lay face first on the bed. I could have sworn that I heard her take a sharp breath, but it was rapidly replaced by a squeaking as she went to the bed with me. "It's not going to hurt," she said. "Excuse me." Lynx's hand was warm as she slipped it inside my lingerie instead of removing the lace altogether. That could work too.

  I turned around when she was done. The process was fast, practical, leaving no room for anything else. There was no reason to act awkward after all.

  Lynx had been staring at my lower torso, so I looked down too. "Oh, that," I said. The skin that nestled the tattoo was red. "It was itchy, and I didn't have time to go to the hospital so. . ." More like I didn't want anyone to find out I had a tattoo of a lynx.

  "I'll take care of that," she said.

  I covered it. "I'll have it checked."

  She removed my hand. "When? Next year?" Her lips went into a hard line. "If you get infected, it's going to be my fault again as every blunder seems to be my fault these days."

  "Damn right it is," I confirmed.

  "S
o let me correct it."

  "Fine," I said. "Have it your way." She didn't object when I lifted my shirt a bit more and lowered my lingerie without completely revealing myself to her, so she could have proper access to the tattoo.

  Her fingers touched my skin. "Is that alright?" She worked on a slow, tantalizing, circular motion. Did she say anything? "Scotland? Tell me if I'm hurting you."

  Those fingers were magical. How could she think she was hurting me? Things were good. All was perfect. It was like we were back in the spa. I could do this over and over without getting tired. "Do it slow," I breathed out. "We have the whole night."

  A twitch on her fingers, then a pause. "As you wish," she said. Her voice was oddly strained, low, and pinched. Between her strokes and the rapid breaths coming from her mouth, the thoughts that started running in my head would eat me alive.

  Chapter 24

  Everyone had that one friend. That one friend who swore like a sailor or would make the most inappropriate sexual jokes but underneath it was the biggest virgin you'd find. I was her, minus the swearing part, and that too had small exceptions; I would swear under my breath when meeting arrogant boys who were more narcissistic than me; on Tuesdays when mother would sit me down for tea and biscuits wanting to know if I was dating such arrogant boy stated a while ago; and whenever Casper was too naive to notice that Lulu was the perfect fit for his life.

  See this was the problem with me. I'd be talking too much and get out of topic. So yeah. . . I was saying something about being a big virgin, right? Right.

  Being such, it was confusing why I felt that way with Lynx. To give you an apt description, it was like lightning was concentrated on the part where she massaged the balm, lotion, or it could be a liquid taken from the Philosopher's Stone for all I cared. Every time her fingers touched me, the lightning would strike, travel through my body, and zap my brain and all its neurons.

  "You should have told me that you were having problems with the tattoo," she said. Jesus, her voice sounded like sandpaper was scratched on her throat. Why was she so gruff? "That's the problem with you, Scotland. Your ego gets in the way." There was a bigger problem than me talking too much sometimes? I think not. She continued to rub the salve on me.

  "Don't blame my ego for this," I said. "You've been unreachable remember? If you picked up the phone, I wouldn't have ended in your house." Speaking of which, where were we? I noticed the room for the first time. There were no strange sculptures, artworks, waxed figures or whatnot. There were only a handful of furniture's like the cabinetry and bedside table, and the king sized bed where we were situated, draped in blue green silk like her eyes. The wide door to the right opened to a balcony that overlooked the street. "Is this the room where you sleep?" I asked.

  She stopped rubbing. I wanted to slap her hand and ask her to continue, but I held my ground. Just because it itched didn't mean I had to scratch it, literally. The tattoo was still itchy as heck. "What if it's mine?" she said. "Will it give you a clue with what I do? Are you close to guessing yet?"

  "What if it does?" I boldly slipped my fingers through her hair, twirled a lock of golden red, and tugged it until she was giving me a strange look that pierced through my core and obliterated all of my remaining thoughts. "Come here," I murmured. There was a flash of uncertainty on her, but it was gone by the time she crawled to me. Lynx remained on top, her torso supported by her arms. Her hair created a curtain around us as she looked down at me. Because of our position, a nervous giggle bubbled on my throat. "I think I'm sexually frustrated," I blurted.

  The vein on her neck throbbed. "What do you want me to do about it?" she said. Her lips were so close, I could just nibble on them, suck on them like licorice. Would it taste like candy, sweet and sour, reminding me of my childhood with not a care in the world? Or would it be more like chocolate, velvety and buttery, an extreme pleasure in my mouth? I squeezed my legs together, unable to control the thoughts from coming. Plain and simple, I needed her now.

  "I want you to do nothing," I said. "It has nothing to do with you. I know what I'm experiencing." My throat was parched and burning. "In Psychology, it's called the familiarity principle. It's like hearing a song for the first time and hating it. Repeated exposure to the song through radio, TV, and your friend's mp3 playlist will eventually get you to like that song because you've become more familiar with it." I wrapped my hands on her face. "You're my song, Lynx. The more I see you, the more I think I like you. But that's the thing. I don't. Not really. If I give in to what I think I'm feeling, I'm going to become a puppet of science, and I don't want that."

  "I'm impressed," she said, her breath smelling like tea. "But there's one more science at play here. It's called libido." Lynx pursed her mouth in a self-satisfied smirk. "The wetness between your legs is caused by attraction, not by familiarity. The sex drive is more complicated than that." She tilted my chin. "You wouldn't feel like this with just anyone. Admit it."

  "Admit what?" I said.

  "That you've found your mate and you're severely aroused."

  "And you tell me my ego is overinflated. Look who's talking." I rolled us over. I couldn't decide if Lynx looked more appealing over or under me. She was amused with the new set-up too as she smiled to herself. "I'm not admitting to anything," I said. "You're using Psychology and Sociology against me, which brings me to our guessing game. I've figured out what you do. Prepare your loser sign because you'll be wearing it for a long time."

  A ringtone blasted from somewhere close by. "Hold that thought," Lynx said, reaching for her phone on the table. She glanced at the screen and scowled. "I have to take this. Do you mind?"

  She would stay if I told her to. I hate being interrupted, but if she said it was important, then it must be. "Go," I said. The space around me felt empty when she got off the bed.

  Lynx twisted to face me before leaving the room. The uncertainty was back on her face. "Don't go anywhere," she said. "We need to talk about this."

  Where would I go anyway? Taking a pillow, I pushed my nose to the silk, breathing in the edgy and intense smell of her. My stomach dipped and churned. Mate, huh? She really thought I had that impression on her? I rolled on my back, still clutching the pillow, trying not to be bothered by my strong urge to pee or release this drive into something else.

  I was thinking of taking a jog when my own cellphone rang. It was Lulu. "Hey," I answered. "Can I call you back later? I'm doing something important."

  "You can't," she said, and instantly I knew that something was wrong. She was breathing heavily on the other line.

  A thousand different scenarios played in my head. "Calm down," I said. Did she get hit and run? Did the house burn? Were my parents or Casper hurt? Was she hurt? I shoved the worry in a chest and promised not to open it until I knew what was going on. "Tell me what happened from the beginning."

  The sound of her taking a breath. "Okay," she let out, her voice quivering. "Casper called to ask me if I was doing fine. At first I was excited. I mean, he never called me before. Not if it didn't have anything to do with you."

  "That's it?" I said. "Shouldn't you be happy?"

  "No!" she shouted. I moved the phone inches from my ear. "Casper said he's coming to town soon, and he'd be bringing Jessie. He wanted us to meet her." She groaned. "I can't with this, Scotland. It's one thing to hear him talk about his perfect girlfriend. It's another to meet her in the flesh. I don't know what I'll do when they step through our door holding hands. I might spill boiling coffee on them. I might accidentally stab Jessie with a fork, on the face, on her eyeball."

  I sighed. This was a big problem. I've learned long ago to put family above anything else, and Lulu has proven herself to be one. Wasn't there a statement like that, bros before hoes? Lynx wasn't exactly that, but you get me.

  "Please come home," Lulu begged. "I've been panicking since he called. I started to make a stew to calm my nerves." She laughed mirthlessly. "There's a whole batch of it. Invite whoever you're with to come home w
ith you, unless of course you want to finish it all by yourself." I scrunched my nose. This was serious.

  "I'm on my way," I said. "Don't do anything rash like burning the house. I'm thinking of keeping that." I slid the call to a close, leaped off the bed, and fixed myself while heading to the door. "Lynx?" I called. "I need to leave." I stopped by the door when I heard her voice on the hallway. She was still on the phone.

  "She's coming," Lynx said. "What should I do, grandma?" A pause. "Of course I told her not to come, but she's on her way. It's been so long. I don't think I'm ready." Not ready for what? Lynx sounded as worried as Lulu. While her voice was more relaxed somehow, I could feel the negative energy radiating from the hallway to the bedroom. It made me want to wrap my arms around her, kiss the worry away. "Scotland?" she said, snapping me back from my reverie. "What does she have anything to do with this? No, I haven't told her. It's complicated."

  I sank back on the bedroom and silently closed the door. Why was she talking about me with her grandma that way? I clutched my chest. Whatever the reason, I couldn't handle this today. I've been slapped, challenged, massaged, confused, and toyed with in a span of several hours. Lulu. I had to think of Lulu before myself. If I stick around to talk to Lynx, I'd never get around to solving my friend's problem. My eyes landed on the balcony. Just what I was looking for.

  The air pricked on my skin as I opened the double doors of the balcony. The curtains fluttered when I looked back to the room. Lynx could be here any minute. I needed to hurry. I searched for ways to go down and found a foothold that could possibly work. The distance from the foothold and the bushes below was not lethal. If it was, then good riddance, but whatever wouldn't kill me would make me stronger. Sing it with me girls.