Beebo Brinker Chronicles 1 - Odd Girl Out

by Ann Bannon

  Laura could see nothing but she suspected everything and she sat beside them, angry and tormented. Her sharp nails crept up her arms and threatened to come down them cuttingly. She was so tense toward the end of the evening that she almost gave a little shriek when Uncle John finally said, “Well, we'd better be on our horses, children.” She wanted to get up and bolt.

  They went their separate ways home and Laura was greatly relieved to get some distance between Beth and Charlie. She was silent in the car, still nettled, trying to think of a way to make Beth sorry for being nice to Charlie, to make her apologize for Laura didn't know what. Her jealousy rode herd on her, goaded her unmercifully.

  Mitch asked her a couple of questions about Beth and she hardly heard them or knew how she answered. Mitch was no threat, he didn't count; he hadn't sat too close to Beth and claimed all her attention and smiled at her and made her laugh.

  There seemed to he only one solution, only one way to make Beth feel guilty, to make her stay away from Charlie, and that was for Laura to pretend that she really liked him. Laura made her mind up and set her chin in determination.

  They reached the house and Charlie took her up the walk. Mitch leaned out of the car and called, “Hey, tell your roomie hello for me,” and Laura ignored him. Charlie just laughed at him; Mitch admired all sorts of girls but he rarely had the guts to ask them out.

  At the door Laura turned and faced Charlie, and began to talk before he said a word. “Charlie, we're having a Christmas party—a dance—two weeks from today. An afternoon dance. Would you—would you be able to come?"

  Charlie was trapped. There were always excuses for evening parties but what the hell was there to do in the afternoon that was more important than a dance? And he had only seconds to think of something. He saw the little tremor in Laura's lips, her timidity and distress. There was a letter at home on his desk from his father that read, “Glad you met the Landon girl. Just heard about her family—too bad. Give her a good time if you can. Probably needs some cheering up.” Still he hesitated. And then suddenly Laura came so near to tears that he said swiftly, “Why—I'd like to, Laura. Thanks."

  His reticence stung and humiliated her, but at least he had said yes, and it was worth it to keep him and Beth apart. He smiled at her to make it up a little and gave her arm a friendly press. “I'll call you,” he said. And Laura had to dash into the house without answering him before she lost the last of her composure.

  CHAPTER SIX

  LAURA WENT HEAVILY up the stairs and into the room. Beth was in her pajamas. She looked up at Laura with a smile as innocent as if she had spent the whole evening playing checkers with a maiden aunt. Laura stood staring at her, her face drawn and pale, and Beth's smile changed to a frown of concern.

  "Hi, honey,” she said. “You look pretty glum."

  "I'm tired,” said Laura briefly, and turned away to hang her coat up. She was too proud, too hurt to tell Beth what the trouble was—and she was too afraid.

  Beth watched her for a moment in silence, and then she said, “What's the matter, Laur?"

  "Nothing!” Laura snapped. She got ready for bed in resolute silence; Beth couldn't get a word out of her.

  When Laura came back from the bathroom she found the studio couch opened out and made up like a bed. Beth was stretched out across it with her eyes closed and one arm lying across her forehead. Laura felt a sudden creeping shyness with her.

  "Laura,” Beth murmured sleepily.

  Laura turned her gaze abruptly away. “Yes?” she said.

  "It's awfully cold in the dorm."

  Laura glanced back at her, her hand poised halfway to the towel rack. “It is?” she said.

  "Um-hmm ... Want to sleep in here?"

  Laura hung up the towel nervously. “But you're sleeping in here,” she said softly.

  "There's room for two."

  "Oh, I—I think I'll be okay in the dorm.” She felt suddenly a little panicky; she didn't know why.

  Beth rolled over on her stomach and opened her eyes. She was smiling a little.

  "'Fraid of me, Laur?” she said.

  "No,” said Laura, trying to make it sound very casual.

  Beth bounced up and down invitingly, laughing a little. “Come on, then. It's nice and warm in here.

  Laura didn't know what to say. She opened her mouth and shut it again and then she turned around and looked at Beth, as if that might give her something to answer with. “Well—” she hesitated.

  "I knew you would.” Beth grinned at her.

  Laura tried to remember that she was mad at Beth. “I don't think I will,” she said severely.

  Beth turned over on her back again and laughed. “Open the window a little, honey,” she said.

  Laura opened it slowly and the fresh cold air came in. Then she went to the dresser and reached for the lamp cord.

  "Laura,” Beth said in a drowsy voice.

  Laura turned around, startled.

  "Come here, Laur."

  Laura stood still and gazed at her, wondering if she heard right.

  "Come here, honey,” Beth said. “No, leave the light on. Come sit here where I can see you."

  Laura walked slowly to the bed with a strange alarm growing inside her and sat gingerly on the edge. She was trembling a little. Beth reached for her arm and said, “Move over, Laur. Let me see you.” Laura moved closer unwillingly and trembled again.

  "Are you cold, honey?"

  "No.” Her voice sounded too small for the rest of her.

  "What's the matter, Laur? Did I hurt your feelings or something?"

  "No.” Laura clamped her hands together and stared at her knees.

  "Tonight, I mean. I was acting kind of silly with Charlie, wasn't I?” Laura refused to answer. “I was a little tight, I guess. I didn't mean anything by it.” She hardly knew why she said this, why she felt the need to say it to Laura. It was almost as if she were reassuring herself that it didn't mean anything, when in reality she wasn't sure at all. “You know that, don't you, Laur? Don't you?” She wished she knew it herself.

  "I—I hardly noticed it,” Laura said, clinging to her pride. Her arm felt like fire at the place where Beth's hand rested.

  "Yes, you did. You're upset, I can tell. Laura, baby, it didn't mean a damn thing, believe me. Who's Charlie? gentle; it almost persuaded Beth herself. She sat up and My God, I hardly know him.” Her voice was lovely and put her arm around Laura. “Honey...” she said. “Am I forgiven? Hey, Laur?” It was a teasing whisper. She lifted Laura's chin and Laura wanted to press her hands to her pulsing temples.

  "Yes,” she whispered, ashamed of her weakness.

  Beth squeezed her and smiled. “Okay, you can turn out the light now,” she said, and released her.

  Laura got up and her knees were precariously weak. She hadn't time or strength to analyze the sudden violence within her. She pulled the lamp cord and let the darkness in. And then she stood perfectly still for a moment, knowing she was going to get into bed with Beth. She moved very cautiously across the room and found the bed; and then she crept in and pulled the covers up to her chin and lay on her back, afraid to move or make a sound, afraid even of her own breathing.

  They lay in absolute silence for a minute. Suddenly Beth rolled over and tickled her hard in the ribs. Laura gave a little scream.

  "Well, thank God,” said Beth, laughing. “I was afraid you were dead. Don't you wiggle when you get in bed, Laur?"

  "Yes—” She caught her breath. “No—” She didn't trust her voice, her thoughts, her body. She felt a great rush of warmth through all her limbs, electrifying, wild, radiating from the powerful thrust of her heart. “Oh, Beth ... Beth...’ she said, helplessly, drowned in it. Her voice shook and she realized that she was holding Beth's hands, that she had caught them to stop the tickling and held them still, held them hard against her ribs. Beth felt her quiver. “Laur, you are cold.” She knew she wasn't. She wanted to make her talk. Charlie had left her in a state of strange elation
that made her restless.

  "No, no, I'm not cold—"

  "Yes you are. Here, roll over. I'll keep you warm."

  Laura turned on her side and Beth followed her, fitting her body to Laura's and pulling her close in her arms. “You'll warm up, honey, she said. “Just relax. Shall I close the window?"

  "No,” said Laura. Don't move, don't leave me, she pleaded silently. She wanted to stay like this in the velvet dark with Beth always beside her, touching her, her arms around Laura, her warm breath in her hair. Beth was torment so lovely, so amazing, so sweet, that Laura wanted to cry. She lay very still, afraid that if she moved Beth would move too, and she would lose her. She felt her own arm resting on Beth's, and Beth's clasped loosely about her midriff, and all down her back the thrilling front of Beth ... their heads so near, her breath so light on Laura's ear. The wonderful softness of her breasts, the strong length of her thighs against Laura's. With the care of love aborning, Laura pressed back toward her, trying to feel her even closer as if that might make them inseparable.

  Beth was immersed in a reverie of Charlie. “Hmm?” she said when Laura moved, rousing a little. “You all right, Laur?"

  "Yes,” Laura whispered. Her whole body seemed to have stopped functioning in an access of caution.

  "Go to sleep, honey,” Beth murmured, and pulled her tighter to reinforce her words.

  Laura lay wide awake in her arms for a long time, so perfectly happy that nothing seemed real; full of a strangely wedded exhilaration and drowsy bliss.

  Beth fell asleep wrapped in her reverie. After a while Laura raised up a little to let her move. She rolled over on her back, groaning softly, and then lay still. In a moment when she was quiet again, Laura turned to gaze at her, her head lifted and resting on her hand. She studied the curve of her lips and she wondered if Beth would know if she kissed her, and she leaned toward her and then became afraid again and stopped herself.

  "Beth,” she whispered in a voice not meant to be heard. “Dear Beth ... is this wrong? I'm so happy...” Maybe she was wrong, but nothing, no one, was ever more right than Beth. Laura looked at her face until she felt almost dizzy with her; with the wild and foreign turmoil she created in her heart.

  "Oh, Beth, Beth,” she whispered. “I think I-I think I love you, Beth. I think I must love you.” She pulled herself closer and brought her lips very near to Beth's. Her heart felt twice its size in her breast and her breath wanted to rush in and out in great gasps. She felt a sudden sweat all over and she stared fascinated and shivering at Beth. “We're so close, Beth ... I could kiss you. I could kiss you, Beth, we're that close...” She looked from Beth's lips to her eyes, and still Beth slept peacefully, and Laura's fever mounted until nothing mattered except Beth and the intoxicating nearness of her. Laura made the first concession to her passion. She leaned steadily closer to Beth until their lips touched, and then she couldn't move away for a long time. She had reached, not a goal, but a first step. The kiss would never calm her—it taught her to crave.

  She pulled away, shaking, and drew her hand across her mouth and she wanted violently to kiss Beth awake, to rouse her from slumber to sudden hot passion. Laura sat up in bed and struggled against her implacable desire with tears and tremors.

  "Laur?” murmured Beth, and her hand found Laura's startled back.

  "I'm all right,” said Laura in a quick scared whisper. “I'm all right, Beth,” and she lay down and faced away from Beth and drew the covers high.

  She slept very little that night, and her whole being was consumed with wonder and hope and powerful misgivings. She had completely forgotten Charlie.

  Beth slept, but restlessly. There was the mystery of Charlie to trouble her dreams, and there was the surprise of unexpectedly rousing Laura. She had begun to think that she would never reach Laura, never really be close to her; it seemed that all she ever did was tease, and all Laura did was answer her politely. But when she reached over in bed to tickle her she realized with a shock that she had struck a profoundly responsive chord in Laura. She felt Laura's cold hands grip hers and heard her breathe, “Oh, Beth ... Beth...” and felt her cool, remote courtesy melt away. Beth was surprised and delighted. Unwilling to hurry her and just as unwilling to let her go, Beth simply held her in her arms and enjoyed the feel of her and marveled at the force of her heart. She knew it was more than fright that provoked Laura's heart so, and somehow Laura's reaction complemented the strange mood Charlie had brought upon her.

  Beth took Laura in her arms that night, not because she had forgotten Charlie or because the effect he had on her was lessened; but simply because Laura was right there with her in the same place at the same time, because Laura was sweet and warm and accessible and Beth felt a tender fondness for her. And perhaps most of all because Charlie had aroused to painful new life her old craving for love.

  It meant a lot to Beth to be loved. It would have meant even more if she could have loved someone herself. But she had never been able to give her love successfully and so she was ready to take someone else's. She needed it; if she couldn't give it she would take it, that was all. And Beth was not afraid to take, to try new ways, to look in new places. She had not been afraid of George, nor of the boys that followed him. And she wasn't afraid when she felt Laura's unmistakably erotic response to her teasing; startled, intrigued, but not afraid. It did not frighten Beth that Laura was a member of her own sex; it made her only the more curious.

  There was, in fact, only one thing that scared Beth a little that night, and that was her reaction to Charlie.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE NOISE IN the halls woke Beth the next morning. She moaned and stretched and turned to find Laura watching her, and she smiled sleepily at her.

  "Morning, honey,” she said, and yawned. ���What time is it?"

  "I don't know. Almost nine.” Don't get up! Laura thought anxiously. It all went so fast.

  "Ummm ... got to get up.” She raised her arm over her head and squinted at her watch.

  "It's early,” said Laura hopefully, still watching her.

  "I know, but Uncle John rolls out at nine on Sundays. Always has.” Her arm fell across her stomach. “He'll be by to pick me up in a few minutes for breakfast.” She looked at Laura. “Sleep well, Laur?"

  "Yes,” said Laura, and she thought she had never seen anything quite so beautiful as Beth with her sleepy head on the pillow and her pale face set in the aureole of her dark hair.

  Beth reached up languidly and pushed Laura's hair behind her ear, and that ear tingled to the ends of Laura's fingers. “My God, are you ticklish,” Beth chuckled. “I thought you were going to snap at me last night."

  Laura smiled sheepishly. “I didn't mean to. I was just��you caught me by surprise."

  "I guess!” said Beth, and she lay still and looked at Laura for a long moment. She liked to be looked at the way Laura was looking at her. She was being admired and she enjoyed it. But still, Uncle John got up at nine.

  She sat up and Laura's eyes never left her, as if they were trying to pull her back down on the pillow. Beth felt them and they were subtly exciting. She wanted suddenly to arouse Laura and she turned back and looked at her. Laura was propped up on her elbows. Beth put a hand on either side of her and leaned over her playfully. Laura's breath caught and her eyes widened in excruciating suspense.

  "Did you finally get warm last night, Laur?"

  "Yes. Finally.” She smiled and Beth took her shoulders with a grin and pushed them into the pillow so that Laura lay flat beneath her.

  "No ‘thank you'?” she teased. “No ‘yes, thank you'?"

  "Oh!” said Laura, putting her hand over her mouth. “Oh, I'm sorry—” The weight of Beth on her made her feel a little crazy.

  Beth laughed. “Don't be silly! It's a good sign. I've always thought you wouldn't stop being polite to me until you started to like me, Laura."

  "Really?” Laura was astonished. Her beautiful manners came to nothing, then. “Oh, Beth, I—I do like
you. I've liked you right along, right from the start. I—really.” How could she possibly say it? Her earnest frown, her eyes, would have to speak for her.

  "No, you haven't,” Beth said, and she poked Laura in the ribs.

  Laura gasped and twisted her body. “Oh, yes—yes, I have, Beth.” She felt compelled to keep talking, to prove it. “Why, I liked you even before I met you.'

  "You did not,” Beth teased.

  "Yes, I did. Really, Beth."

  "You didn't even know me. How could you like me?” She smiled.

  "Well, I-well, I don't know.” Her eyes fell then. It was the truth. She didn't. She knew only that from the moment she first saw Beth, nobody else interested her. And from the moment she spoke to her, no one else mattered.

  "You must have some reason. Come on, Laur, tell me.” Beth leaned over closer, smiling.

  Laura had a brief fear of suffocating with her want, of betraying it through every hard breath, every drop of perspiration. “No, no ... she protested weakly.

  "No reason at all?” Her voice was almost a whisper.

  "I just thought you looked like—such a nice person. That's all. You looked friendly. I thought you must be a nice person to know,” she whispered lamely.

  "Am I? Am I nice to know, honey?"

  "Yes.” She couldn't look at Beth now.

  "I don't believe you."

  "Oh, you must!” Her eyes flew back to Beth's. “You're more than nice, Beth, you're—” And she stopped herself, swallowing compulsively, and looking away in something very near panic.

  "I'm what? Tell me, Laur. Come on, honey, tell me,” she coaxed. “What am I? Hmm? Laura?"

  "Beth—” Laura pushed her away in a sudden hot desperation. “I don't know!” She sat up panting and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

  Beth watched her with a smile. “Now you're mad at me, Laur. You're mad at me, aren't you?"

  "No!"