by Robin Roseau
"I do not," I said. But she patted my cheek as she climbed off me.
Jaime finished setting up the television. Just as he finished testing everything, Felicity returned juggling a huge bowl of popcorn, a bottle of wine, and three wine glasses. The two of them climbed onto the bed with me, Felicity to my right, Jaime on my left, wedging themselves around so they weren't sitting directly on my outstretched arms. Then, by unspoken agreement, Jaime handed the remote to Felicity and took the bottle of wine from her. He poured glasses while Felicity navigated Netflix. A moment later, one of my favorite television shows began its opening credits.
"Season three of Revenge," Felicity said. "Open."
I opened my mouth, and she tossed in a couple of pieces of popcorn.
* * * *
Over the next two and a half episodes, we downed the bottle of wine and the entire bowl of popcorn. Jaime disappeared into the kitchen, and I thought he was going for more wine, but he returned with three glasses of water. I lasted another half episode before I asked them to pause it.
"I have to go to the bathroom."
"It's about time," Felicity said. She started the show back up.
I watched a minute or two more before I said, "Come on, Felicity, I really have to go to the bathroom."
She paused the show. The two of them looked at each other, and then Jaime climbed from the bed and stepped out into the hallway. A moment later, I heard the water from the bathroom sink. Then he reappeared in the door and climbed back onto the bed beside me.
The water was still running.
"That's mean!" I declared.
Felicity ignored my protests and resumed the show.
I watched another five minutes before I said, "Fine. You win."
Felicity immediately paused the show. The two of them turned to face me. I looked back and forth between their faces.
"Let me go and I'll tell you when I get back."
"Not a chance," Felicity said. "You'll make a dash for it, and we'll have to fight you all over again." She smiled. "Although that was pretty fun. I guess that wouldn't be so bad."
"Yeah, but it'll be three AM before she'll be desperate again," Jaime said, "and that's only if she lets us keep pouring water into her."
"We can get a funnel..."
"You two are such children," I said. I squirmed. "I really have to go. I promise to tell when I get back. Please."
"Tell us why you let us tie you up," Felicity demanded.
"Like I could have stopped you."
"Oh please," said Jaime. "We can tell your fake struggles from when you're serious."
"You're going to think it's stupid."
"Why did you let us tie you up?" Felicity asked. "I'm not asking again. Answer, or I'm getting the funnel."
"Fine!" I said. "Maybe I wanted to tell you. Happy?"
She stared into my eyes then, not taking her eyes from mine, said, "Jaime, untie that side."
"But-"
"She wants to tell us. She's going to tell us. And she knows we're the two least judgmental people she knows, and we're not going to tease her."
"Of course we're going to tease her!"
"Only good teasing," Felicity said.
"Well, of course," he said.
It took them a minute or two before I was free. Felicity struggled with the knot on my wrist but eventually untied my ankle and then the scarf from the bed. By then, Jaime was done with his side, and I pushed past Felicity, a scarf trailing from one wrist, as I ran to the bathroom.
It was a while before I was done. I found myself staring at my reflection in the mirror.
Maybe it had been a little fun.
When I got back to my bedroom, they were both sitting on the bed, a clear space between them. Felicity patted the spot and, somewhat meekly, I crawled up the bed and sat down, the three of us now shoulder-to-shoulder.
"So," said Jaime.
"Spill," said Felicity.
"You're making a big deal out of nothing."
"Yeah, that's why you let us just tie you to the bed for the last two hours." Felicity and Jaime high-fived each other in front of my face.
I sighed. "I told her she unsettled me."
"And?"
"She asked why. Then she offered me fifty bucks to answer her."
"What?" Felicity asked. "So she only paid you fifty for the reading this time?"
"I told her to keep the fifty." I sighed again. "I admitted a certain visceral reaction to her."
"A certain visceral reaction?" Jaime said. "Is that what they call it when your tongue is hanging out of your mouth and drool dropping to the floor?"
"Quiet, Jaime," Felicity said. "She isn't done, and you don't want to distract us from the entire story. Lyra, you promised."
"When she left, she told me it was mutual."
They both waited for a moment.
"And?" said Jaime.
"That's it."
"That's it?" Felicity said. "All this for something we already both knew?"
"Maybe you should have believed me when I said there wasn't anything to tell." I shook my head. "Are you two ever going to grow up?"
"When's your next date?" Jaime asked.
"We don't have dates," I said. "We have readings."
"Why did you make us work so hard?"
I turned to Felicity and smiled. "I know you need to let out your inner domme now and then."
Behind me, Jaime barked a laugh.
"Does Dyson let you tie him up sometimes?"
Felicity blushed, which amused me to no end. That just spurred me.
"I bet you've wanted to see me tied up in your scarves for years." I reached over and caressed her face. "You only had to ask, Love."
She pushed my hand away. "Knock it off."
We took turns teasing each other for a while. Some of it was pretty mean. But the thing is, the three of us couldn't have been closer than we were. It wasn't humanly possible and hadn't been since high school.
* * * *
"Lesbo."
I turned around suddenly, but I hadn't seen who had said it. The school hallway was filled with students passing between classes. I'd been at my locker switching out books for my last three classes.
I was rather surprised by the word. It wasn't the 80s anymore, after all. I'd figured out some time ago that I preferred girls, but I hadn't actually done anything about it. I'd kept my hands, eyes, and thoughts to myself.
But as I said, it wasn't the 80s anymore, either, and it wasn't like we lived in a particularly conservative district. There were gay kids at school -- boys and girls alike. Yes, some of them got called names, but I didn't think homophobia was rampant in my high school. Even if I had come out, I didn't think anyone would care.
Over the next several days, I would discover I was wrong.
To this day, I have no idea how anyone figured out I was a lesbian. I didn't think I'd ever done anything to allow anyone to come to that conclusion. Sure, I didn't date guys, but it wasn't like they'd been knocking down my door to ask me out, either.
But what started out small grew, and it grew quickly. At first it was just a few whispered words in passing, and rarely did I see who did the whispering. But after a few days, the whispers grew overt, culminating in a large poster some of the more hatefully creative girls had taped to the wall outside the cafeteria.
I stopped, staring at it.
I was about to tear it down when I felt someone step up beside me. It was Jaime Kane, star athlete. He stood next to me, so close we actually touched. I was just about to step forward and tear it down when he spoke very quietly.
"I'm gay," he said.
I froze, shocked.
"Laugh," he added. "We're joking about the poster."
I offered a laugh, but it felt quite forced to me. I was on the verge of tears.
"Right now," he said, "it feels like the whole school hates you."
"I don't know what I did-"
"You didn't do a thing," he said. "What you do next is going t
o define your life, at least until you escape from high school."
"I don't know what you mean."
"If you let them believe they're getting to you, you'll be their victim forever. If you respond with anger, they'll find ways to goad you until you go too far."
"So what do I do?"
"You laugh," he said. "Imagine how pissed they're going to be if you look at this and laugh."
Inside I was quivering. I'd never wanted to be the center of anyone's attention. I'd been the center before, and I hadn't liked it. Life was already hard enough; I was already different enough, after all. I didn't need this, too.
But I looked over at Jaime, and I looked closely at his aura. It was... warm. Protecting. "You don't know me."
"Not well, no," he admitted. "So? This isn't about me. I only told you to stop you from reacting before you thought it through."
"I-" I looked back at the poster. "How do you know what to do?"
"My parents know about me," he explained. "When I told them, they sat me down and told me that the world was on the edge of accepting, but it wasn't quite there yet. They gave me a lot of advice." He paused. "I haven't had to test it yet. It's a matter of time. But when this is me-" he gestured at the poster. "I'm going to own it."
"Easy for you to say."
"What are you going to do, Lyra?"
I stared at the poster. Then I smiled. I pulled out a pen, stepped forward to the poster, and signed my name underneath the photo they had used. I did it in large, swirling letters, adding a flourish underneath my name.
Then I turned to Jaime. "Thanks."
He nodded once, and then we headed in opposite directions.
It was at lunch just a few minutes later that my life took a third change in the week. I had collected my tray of food and was looking around, wondering where to sit. I walked past the lesbian table.
Yes, there was a collection of girls, all quite obvious in their sexuality, who pulled two tables together and sat together every day at lunch. It was solidarity in numbers.
"Lyra."
I stopped and turned. Tracy Anderson was watching me. She gestured to a free chair.
I considered it.
I could hide in the crowd.
I looked at the six girls assembled there. Each of them was watching me. I looked at them; I looked at their auras. They were just... high school girls, doing the best they could, and I could see from their auras how they felt. Three were troubled, and I worried for them. Tracy's aura looked a little like Jaime's earlier, and I realized she was offering to protect me, just as he had.
The thing is, she and I had never been friends, either, and it wasn't because we didn't know each other.
But today her aura was full of protection.
I smiled. "You know, not today. But maybe you'll invite me again sometime."
We looked into each other's eyes for a moment, and then she nodded. I turned away and found an unoccupied table of my own. I bent my head to my meal.
And that was when my life changed again. The chair kitty corner from mine was pulled out, and Felicity Watkins plopped down, setting her own tray down on the table. "Hey, Lyra," she said casually, as if I wasn't the center of the school's attention. She eyed my food. "You took the mystery meat. Daring choice."
"I'm a daring woman," I said.
"So you are." She picked up a fork and started pushing her food around.
"What are you doing?" I asked quietly.
She smiled. "Having lunch with my friend."
We'd known each other for years, but we'd never been friends. We didn't hang out or anything like that. But I looked at her -- and, of course, her aura. I didn't see protection. I certainly didn't see lust or hunger.
I saw gentle warmth, and not an ounce of guile.
I felt tears collect in my eyes.
"Chem labs are due Friday," she said. "Want to come over tonight and work on it together?"
With those words, she became my best friend.
She never asked if any of it was true. It was at a sleepover two weeks later that I first brought it up. "You never asked."
She knew immediately what I meant. "It doesn't matter."
"Aren't you afraid of me?" We were both in pajamas, hanging out in her room.
"Why should I be afraid of you?"
"Aren't you afraid I'll, I don't know."
"Try to kiss me?"
"Yeah. Or something."
"Why should I be afraid?" She grinned. "I could take you, anyway."
I laughed.
"I'm serious," she said. She wriggled her fingers at me. "Ticklish?"
"Keep your fingers away from me!" I said, edging away from her. In response, she launched herself at me. It took her no time at all to have me pinned on my back. She sat on me, her knees pressed into my shoulders while she reached beside her hips to dig her fingers into my sides. She soon had me gasping for air, laughing hysterically, while trying to beg her to stop.
That was when the bedroom door opened, and Felicity's mom poked her nose in. "What's going on in here?"
"Nothing, Mom," Felicity replied. "Just a tickle fight. Lyra is losing."
"I see that. Stop before she wets herself." And then the door closed.
Felicity dissolved into laughter, falling to her side off of me to lie down on her side, watching me. I slowly caught my breath before turning my head to look at her.
Finally I said, "It's true."
"I figured," she said. "We can talk about it if you want; it's up to you. Want some ice cream?"
We became inseparable, or nearly so. We didn't talk about it that night, but I told her everything over a shared malt a few days later. I also told her about half of what Jaime had said, omitting his own declaration. And so, two days later when she was due to pick me up for a movie, I was somewhat surprised when they both showed up on my doorstep.
It had been the three of us against the world ever since.
Third Visit
We stared across the table at each other, neither of us speaking at first. Finally she asked, "Did you think about what I said last week?"
"Which part?"
She smiled. "Any of the parts."
"Yes, I thought about it. I think you're a nutcase."
Her smile didn't fade, which surprised me. "I've been called a lot worse." She shrugged. It looked out of place on her. "I believe I said three things of note. Should we start with the one that's easiest to prove. Do you believe I'm lying about seeing auras?"
"If you can see auras, why did you need to come here?"
"So you don't believe me?"
I eyed her carefully. "I wouldn't accuse you of lying," I said carefully. "I've never personally met someone who could see auras who wasn't full of shit."
"Except yourself."
It was my turn to shrug.
"Well," she said climbing to her feet. "Let's go see whether we see the same thing." She turned away and headed for the door, and I scrambled after her.
We arrived in the main shop. Felicity and Jaime were standing side-by-side, muttering quietly, and I was sure they were talking about me. "Your two business partners are also your best friends," she said.
"You could have learned that any of a number of ways."
"The lovely woman is straight and appears to be in a committed relationship. The rather handsome man is as gay as they come and has never had a relationship more than a few weeks, if even that."
I didn't say anything. She could have learned that somehow, as well.
"As with all good friends," she went on, "when they are standing so close, their auras reach to each other."
That was true, but it could also be new age mumbo jumbo speaking.
From the corner of my eye, I saw her glance over at me, but I still didn't say anything.
"Both of them carry quite a bit of your aura mixed in with their own," Verity said. "As you described my aura, it is somewhat more distinct than that of most people. Theirs is not as distinct as mine, but it is still som
ewhat more vivid than that of most people, and that is due to your relationship with them."
I pursed my lips. I'd wondered about that.
"Mr. Kane's aura changes when he is away from you."
"How do you know that?"
"But when he is near either you or Felicity, there is a striking amount of warm, warm, red, symbolizing his protective nature of both of you. There is also some pink. These are the colors closest to Ms. Watkins. Pink, of course, is associated with many things, including love and friendship. Because of his proximity to Ms. Watkins, his aura is currently lopsided. There is deep blue on the side furthest from him, representative of his sometimes impulsive nature and a little of his inner turmoil he rarely allows to show."
I turned to stare at her.
"Ms. Watkins shares some of those colors, of course, as she loves Mr. Kane. And if you were to stand on her other side, her aura wouldn't be even, as she sees you differently as she does your other partner. Her aura carries green and yellow along with the pink. Of courses, it isn't that simple. There are hints of other colors in both of them. But those are the most dominant colors, not counting those from you."
"Which are?"
"The silver and purple. Those are from you."
I turned to face her. "Why are you here?"
"Do we need to go for a walk outside, and I will describe the auras of the people we pass?"
"No. Why are you here?"
She gestured with her head then led the way back to my reading room. She took her seat, but I began to pace. Finally I turned to her. She was watching me carefully.
"I'll ask a third time. Why are you here?"
"We'll come to that," she replied. "I want us to be friends. Do you think that's possible?"
I stared. "I don't know."
"Will you let me call you Lyra? And you will call me Verity."
I nodded. I didn't particularly care what she called me.
"Sit. Please. Or perhaps you would like to go somewhere more comfortable?"
"This is fine," I said. I leaned on the table then slowly lowered myself into the chair opposite her.
"I'm not going to even try to ease into this, Lyra," she said. "I'm a witch. So are you."
"You're a nutcase is what you are," I replied hotly.
"Perhaps, but you haven't any evidence yet. I can prove what I've said. Well, I can prove I am a witch. You may choose to use another word, if you like, but 'witch' is the accepted word amongst those of us who manipulate magic while otherwise being human."