Something About Love (This Is Not Erotica)

by Tess Mackenzie

  “I really am,” Jo said. “Running.”

  “I know,” Sophie said. “I believe you. Fuck.”

  Jo was quiet for a moment.

  “I was joking,” Sophie said. “Really. You’d have to be fucking stupid to answer the phone breathing like that if you were fucking someone else.”

  “Okay,” Jo said, but she still sounded worried.

  Sophie knew why. Because Sophie hadn’t said she didn’t suspect Jo of cheating, she’d only said that cheating right now, like this, would be stupid. So what Sophie was saying wasn’t talking about trust, not really, only about common sense. And that worried Jo.

  But it was too difficult to untangle all that over the phone, right now, so Sophie decided not to.

  “How long have you been running,” Sophie said.

  “A while.”

  “What’re you doing next?”

  “You.”

  Sophie grinned. Jo always said things like that, and Sophie always grinned. Even if Jo couldn’t see her.

  “Hey,” Jo said. “It’s the anniversary tonight. Three months.”

  “I know,” Sophie said.

  “I thought you would.”

  “I’m glad you know too.”

  “Of course I know.”

  “Yeah,” Sophie said.

  “Shit,” Jo said. “I’m cooling down. I need to run. Come over to my place, okay? I’ll head back there now.”

  “I can come get you.”

  “I’m sweaty as fuck. Just wait outside my place, I won’t be long.”

  Sophie drove to Jo’s, and sat in her car and waited. It was late afternoon. Joggers and dog-walkers were going past, and the birds were beginning to flock in the trees. Sophie looked out the windscreen, sometimes glanced in the mirror, wasn’t sure which way Jo would appear.

  The direction Sophie was facing, it turned out. Jo came down the street running hard. Running fast, but too tired to actually sprint. Sophie got out her car, and Jo raised one hand as she ran up.

  Sophie held out a bottle of water.

  “Fuck,” Jo said, “Thanks,” and stopped, and took the bottle, breathing hard. Too tired to talk, too, it seemed. She was in shorts and an old tee shirt. Her arms and legs were shiny with sweat. Sophie leaned in to kiss her, and Jo pushed her away. Sophie tried again, and Jo said, “I’m all sticky.”

  “I know,” Sophie said, and kissed her. Then licked her neck. “Happy anniversary.”

  Jo stepped back, and looked at Sophie, and sipped water. “Weirdo.”

  “You turn me on.”

  “Weirdo, like I said.”

  “You really fucking turn me on.”

  “Come inside.”

  Jo had her keys in a zippered pocket of her shorts. She got them out, opened the door, went straight to the alarm panel. Sophie followed and kissed Jo’s neck while she put in alarm code in.

  The alarm beeped.

  “Shit,” Jo said. “Hold on.”

  Sophie kept kissing her, and Jo put the numbers in again, and this time it seemed to work. A green light came on.

  “Wait,” Jo said.

  “No,” Sophie said, and started pulling Jo’s shirt up.

  “Stop,” Jo said, turning around. “I need to finish up.”

  “I’ll warm you down.”

  “No, I haven’t finished. Get off me for a sec.”

  Sophie let go, and grinned. She usually tried, and Jo usually said no and wanted to finish.

  Jo went through the house, out the kitchen door, and into the garage. Sophie followed. Jo had a gym in the garage. Weights and a big punch bag and a speed bag.

  Early on, Sophie had wondered why Jo parked in the driveway all the time, and now she knew.

  Sophie went and held the punch bag without Jo asking. She understood the routine, had done this before.

  Jo pulled on thin gloves, and Sophie leaned on the bag, and used her weight to hold it steady.

  “Thanks,” Jo said, and kissed her, and then started hitting the bag.

  Jo punched like she knew what she was doing. She hit the bag in flurries of three and five punches. Sophie watched, and felt the bag jerk against her chest each time Jo hit it, and got turned on.

  Jo punching things was hot.

  “You about done?” Sophie said, after a while. It was only exercise, it wasn’t like Jo not doing a hundred punches would make her lose a match or something.

  Jo stopped, panting, and shrugged. “Yeah, I could be.”

  “Do you need to warm down?”

  Jo nodded, and started stretching. Sophie gave her a couple of minutes, impatient, then closed the door, and grabbed Jo, and started pulling her clothes off.

  “Hey,” Jo said. “Stop. I stink.”

  “I know.” Sophie licked Jo’s tummy, licked her armpit. Sophie jumped Jo fairly often when she’d just been running, and Jo usually made a fuss, just not enough of one to actually make Sophie stop.

  Sophie licked again, Jo’s neck, and Jo sighed and murmured, “Weirdo.”

  “I want to lick the sweat out of your smelly pits,” Sophie said. “That’s how hot you get me.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” Jo said. “Fuck.”

  “I’ve got a hard-on for you that won’t go down,” Sophie said into Jo’s chest.

  “A hard on?”

  “Yep. For you all sweaty.” Sophie licked some more, down Jo’s arm.

  “Hey Sophie?” Jo said, watching her.

  “Yeah?”

  “Shut up and fuck me.”

  *

  Afterwards, they sat outside the garage, leaning on the wooden door, looking into the last late sun and feeling its warmth. “I should have a shower,” Jo said.

  “Or not,” Sophie said.

  Jo grinned.

  “Hey,” Sophie said. “It’s been three months.”

  “I know.”

  “Three good months.”

  Jo leaned over and kissed her.

  “Because it’s been three months,” Sophie said. “I wanted to ask…”

  Jo looked at her. “Oh no.”

  “I haven’t hassled you.”

  “So don’t.”

  “I’ve been patient.”

  “Don’t ask,” Jo said. “Fuck.”

  “Please?” Sophie said. “I fucking need to.”

  Jo sat for a while. “Okay, ask.”

  “I need to talk about the drinking. I need to know what’s going on.”

  “It’s done. It’s finished. It doesn’t matter any more.”

  “But it used to matter?”

  Jo shrugged.

  “It used to be a problem or something?” Sophie said. “Like a bad one?”

  Jo sat there for a while, looking at the sunset. “Yep.”

  “You know I don’t care, don’t you?”

  Jo shrugged.

  “I don’t. So you know.”

  Jo nodded.

  “I’m not pushing, but if you want to talk, I’d like to know.”

  “I used to drink too much. Now I don’t. That’s all there is, really.”

  Sophie nodded. “Fair enough.”

  “And you have been patient,” Jo said. “You’ve been fucking patient, and way more than I deserve.”

  “No, I…”

  “Soph, it’s true. You haven’t asked, and I should have said something before now. So ask if you want.”

  Sophie looked at her.

  “I’m just not used to talking about it,” Jo said. “That’s all. So ask.”

  Sophie sat and thought.

  “Go on,” Jo said. “It’s you. We can talk about it.”

  “What I should do?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I need to know what I should do, and what I shouldn’t do. So don’t make anything worse.”

  “You won’t.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Jo shrugged.

  “You’re really fucking sure? Because I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “You won’t m
ake anything worse. I promise.”

  Sophie nodded. “That’s all.”

  Jo seemed surprised. “That’s all you want to know?”

  Sophie shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “You’re not curious?”

  “I’m curious. I’m just not going to nag.”

  Jo thought about that for a while. “So ask about the curious. I’m good.”

  Sophie wondered, then decided she wanted to. “Is it hard? Not to drink?”

  “What do you think?”

  Sophie looked at Jo and wondered if she’d meant that to come out as sharp as it sounded. Probably not, she decided. Jo didn’t seem upset, she was just sitting there. She probably didn’t realize she’d snapped.

  “Hard?” Sophie said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell me.”

  Jo sat for a while, and sipped from her water bottle. “I don’t know what to say,” she said.

  “You stopped.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  Jo looked at her for a while. “It started getting to be a problem. And I noticed.”

  Jo wasn’t comfortable. She was letting Sophie ask, but she didn’t want to be talking about it yet, not really.

  “You don’t want to talk, do you?” Sophie said.

  “Not really.”

  “Okay. We won’t.”

  Jo looked at her, and seemed almost relieved. “Just like that?” Jo said. “After I said we could?”

  “Yeah, just like that. But sometime we will, okay?”

  Jo nodded.

  “And if you ever actually want to, like for you rather than me, I’m here, okay?”

  Jo looked at Sophie for a while, then kissed her. “Come inside,” she said. “I want to have a shower, then I want to fuck you again.”

  *

  Later, in Jo’s bed, both still breathing hard, their hands still wet from each other, Jo said, “We don’t have to keep doing this. The hands. We can do head or whatever, any time you want.”

  Sophie was a little surprised. “I like this.”

  “You keep saying that.”

  “Because I do.”

  “I like going down on you. But I hardly ever do.”

  “You can. You should. I’d like you to. I just like this more, that’s all.”

  Jo seemed to be thinking.

  “You think I’m insecure,” Sophie said.

  “I’m wondering.”

  “And you think that’s why I don’t want you to go down on me?”

  “I might be.”

  “I really just like this better. You up here. Me being looked at.”

  “Okay,” Jo said. “I just wanted to check.”

  “I’m not that insecure.”

  “Except you almost said no, when I asked you out, because you didn’t want to compete with me.”

  “That isn’t exactly why.”

  “It almost is.”

  “That was then. It’s different now. I know you.”

  “Okay,” Jo said.

  “You know what else I like?” Sophie said, after a while.

  “What?”

  “Sharing clothes. I really fucking like that and I don’t know why. Like borrowing shit. Like coming here on purpose with nothing to wear tomorrow, so I have to borrow something. It’s weirdly intimate, like looking into each other’s eyes.”

  Jo grinned. After a while said, “You didn’t bring anything to wear tomorrow, did you?”

  “Nope.”

  Jo kissed her. “Borrow whatever the fuck you want.”

  *

  The Fourth Day: Not Long Afterwards

  Sophie and Jo had started meeting at lunchtime, because they both worked in town, within a few blocks of each other, and because Sophie had said she could do with some exercise during the day.

  They met at lunchtime and went for a walk. They went from Sophie’s building, down towards the river, and got coffee from a café on the way. Jo seemed to be in an odd mood, seemed quiet, so Sophie asked if she was okay, then left her alone.

  “You want to know about the drinking?” Jo said, after a while.

  “Okay. If you want to tell me.”

  “You might not like what you hear.”

  “I told you, it won’t change anything.”

  Jo nodded, then walked for a while in silence. They were going along a path beside the riverbank with the other lunchtime walkers. It wasn’t especially crowded. They were far enough away from other people they wouldn’t be overheard.

  “So I used to drink,” Jo said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Like other people have a few drinks and stop. I don’t.”

  Sophie nodded.

  “Nothing happened. Nothing made me like this. I just am.”

  “Okay,” Sophie said.

  “That’s all,” Jo said. “I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say.”

  Sophie reached over and took her hand.

  “So ask,” Jo said. “What you wanted to know the other day. Get it over with.”

  “I don’t understand,” Sophie said. “That’s all. I really don’t understand and I want to. So can you explain it to me?”

  “No.”

  Sophie looked at her.

  “I can’t,” Jo said. “I really don’t get it either. It’s just what it is, and it’s different for everyone. And this, with you, this is really fucking important and I don’t want to lose your respect.”

  “You won’t.”

  “Yeah? You’re completely sure about that?”

  Sophie shrugged.

  “I’ve done some fairly awful shit,” Jo said.

  “Like what?”

  Jo didn’t answer.

  “You can’t tell me anything that will make me think less of you,” Sophie said.

  “Yeah right,” Jo said. “I think I could.”

  “Anything true?” Sophie said.

  Jo shrugged.

  “I mean it,” Sophie said.

  “Seriously, Sophie, don’t go saying shit you don’t know anything about.”

  They had walked far enough they were away from other people. There was a concrete wall along the path, between them and the water. Jo stopped, and slid up onto it, and sat there looking out over the water.

  Sophie climbed up beside her, then sat there waiting. After a while she leaned over and kissed Jo. “I see you who you are now,” she said. “You don’t seem to get that. The rest doesn’t matter.”

  “That’s what people always say.”

  “I don’t give a shit what people always say. It’s what I mean. It’s true.”

  Jo looked at her for a while.

  “How bad are these things?” Sophie said.

  Jo shrugged.

  “Please,” Sophie said. “I want to understand.”

  Jo looked at her for a while, then said, “I slept with a lot of people to make myself feel good. I did what I wanted to, all the fucking time, without caring about anyone else.”

  “That isn’t that bad.”

  “I lied to people I should have treated better. Like, to cover up.”

  “People do stupid shit sometimes.”

  “I hurt people close to me. A lot. And then hurt people all over again once I stopped.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I haven’t talked to my father since I stopped, because he’s got the same shit going on and doesn’t get why I don’t want it. My sister hides vodka around the house, so I can’t see her. I had a lot of friends I had to walk away from because they didn’t get this either. The stopping.”

  Sophie sat there for a minute, then squeezed Jo’s hand.

  “And I really miss it,” Jo said. “That’s the actual truth. I didn’t want to stop, and I still don’t want to have stopped, I just knew I had to. But I fucking miss it. I’m like this other fucking person who’s fun and interesting and has all these friends.”

  “Until you suddenly throw up?”

  Jo looked up, then grinned. “Pretty m
uch, yeah. But you get used to that.”

  They sat there for a while. Jo seemed to be thinking.

  “Drinking was like this beautiful fucking thing,” Jo said. “I’d always been shy, and then I got a drink and I was interesting, you know what I mean?”

  Sophie nodded.

  Jo thought a little more. “I’m not a nice person when I’m drinking,” she said. “Like this, who I am now, that isn’t me.”

  “I assumed. Kind of.”

  “I lie to people. When I’m drinking. I hurt people close to me. You need to understand that.”

  “I understand, but you’re not drinking any more. So it doesn’t really matter right now, does it?”

  “Yeah,” Jo said. “Except…”

  “No except,” Sophie said.

  “I crashed my car,” Jo said. “I lied to the insurance company about what had happened. Guess what, you can get away with shit if you try.”

  “I imagine.”

  “I slept with a mate’s girlfriend, because it was starting to piss me off they were all coupley and happy and I wasn’t. And because my mate trusted me when she shouldn’t have, and because the girlfriend was this total fucking asshole who would cheat. And because by then I’d started hating people, like all the people, all the time, and I’d started smashing other people’s lives for no reason. Like, just to make people hurt.”

  Sophie looked at her for a while.

  “That’s all,” Jo said. “That’s the worst.”

  “Okay,” Sophie said. “Nothing’s changed.”

  “What do you mean.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure what to say. So nothing’s changed. Between us.”

  Jo seemed confused, so Sophie hugged her.

  “Soph…”

  “Just let me.”

  Jo kind of shrugged, but didn’t push Sophie away.

  “I still feel the same about you,” Sophie said.

  “Which is?”

  “Respect you. Want you.”

  “Oh.”

  “So don’t worry. I’m here.”

  After a few minutes Sophie let go.

  “Thank you,” Jo said.

  “It’s fine.”

  They sat for a while. Sophie waited. She wanted Jo to keep talking as much as she needed to.

  “I get sick of people noticing I’m not drinking,” Jo said. “People either get what’s going on and get all fucking sympathetic, or they’re completely oblivious and keep pestering me.”

  Sophie nodded.

  “So yeah. The social shit is hard. I just stopped doing anything for a while.”

  Sophie noticed Jo was avoiding particular words. Drinking and drunk and alcoholic. She decided that was on purpose.

  “I mean,” Jo said. “Like, people from work are great, but there’s always someone who forgets and buys too many beers, you know? And it’s just irritating having to constantly say no thanks to the same people. You’d kind of like them to remember.”