Dormitory Dearest: A Sweet Lesbian Romance

by Nicolette Dane

  As we strolled, my hand accidentally bumped into Hosannah’s and we both looked down and laughed.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “No problem,” said Hosannah with a smile.

  “So,” I began, trying to make conversation. “Do you have to be in the ALOHA office today?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I take over around 1 and stay until 5. Not a bad shift.”

  “No,” I said. I couldn’t believe how nervous I still felt around Hosannah. It bothered me, actually, that I couldn’t just relax more into the conversation. But I knew I had to persist. Tilting my head, I looked over at her as we walked, feeling a little flutter inside me as I caught a swift moment of her cutely pursing her lips.

  “Do you want to hang out again tonight?” she asked casually.

  “Yeah!” I said with enthusiasm, widening my eyes in anticipation. “Yeah, definitely.”

  “Cool,” said Hosannah, reaching out toward me and sticking her finger in one of the belt loops on my jeans. With a quick yank, she pulled me next to her, causing our hips to bump. We both laughed.

  “Hey,” I said in a subdued accusatory manner.

  “Hey,” she responded in kind, a teasing look on her face.

  “Do you think everyone will think I’m cool since I’m walking to class with a junior?” I said coyly, letting a grin build on my face.

  “Most definitely,” said Hosannah. “Yes, I think they’ll all want to get your autograph. Like this guy here,” she said as a tall guy in a white t-shirt with his backpack hiked way up his back began to approach us on our pathway.

  “What?” I said, starting to feel embarrassed.

  “Excuse me,” said Hosannah to the boy. “You, sir.”

  “Yeah?” he said as we neared.

  “Would you like this girl’s autograph?” said Hosannah in a straight voice.

  “Hosannah!” I cried in an annoyed whisper. It wasn’t true annoyance, however, as I felt invigorated by her little game.

  “Her autograph?” asked the boy, stopping.

  “Keep going,” I said fearfully, giving Hosannah a push to keep the two of us moving. We continued walking as the boy stood there, watching us. Hosannah was beginning to laugh.

  “Maybe tomorrow!” Hosannah called out. “You can have her autograph tomorrow!”

  “Oh my God!” I protested to her after we got out of earshot from the tall boy. “What are you doing?”

  “Just playing with you,” she said with a devilish grin. “C’mon. It’s fun.”

  “I’m so embarrassed,” I said, looking down, holding my face in my hands.

  “You’ll get over it,” she said. “We’re just playing around.” Hosannah snaked her hand between my backpack and back and gave me a comforting little rub, causing me to almost instantly forget about the embarrassment and instead focus on her touch. It wasn’t more than a few seconds later that she pulled her hand back and let it drop to her side.

  “I think you’re going to give me a heart attack,” I said. “Yeesh.”

  “Berkley Hall,” said Hosannah, ignoring my protestations. “Your classroom awaits, my dear.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ve got a fun idea for later,” she said. “So text me sometime in the afternoon and we’ll plan for the evening. Cool?”

  “Yes,” I said demurely. “That’s cool.”

  “Great,” said Hosannah quickly. She lunged forward and gave me a hug. “Have a good class. I’ll catch you later!” Hosannah grinned, kissed me on the cheek, and then leapt back, returning to her own walk to class.

  “Bye!” I called out after her, waving. I sighed contentedly as I watched her leave, her rear pumping back and forth with each step, her backpack gently swaying to either side, dark hair swishing in the light breeze. It all happened so fast. It was difficult to process. I couldn’t stop thinking about her teasing. It gave me a feeling of inclusion, like I belonged. I was happy to have that feeling for a change.

  *

  Later on, after coming back from class, I hit the cafeteria to get lunch. I was a bit late, post lunch rush, which was nice. I didn’t have to fight for a seat or even sit with people I wasn’t too familiar with. It wasn’t a big deal in Leopold to sit with strangers as we all had ALOHA in common, but I was still a bit shy and unsure of myself.

  Sitting down at one of the long tables by myself, just a few other people milling about, I poked at my serving of steamed broccoli and thought about Hosannah. She was probably downstairs in the ALOHA office by this time, just a floor below me. I wanted to go down there and see her and talk with her, joke with her, all that, but I didn’t want to seem too needy or too eager or whatever. I thought about what it might be like to kiss her. While she had kissed me twice on the cheek, I was becoming more interested in her lips. As I rehearsed what I might possibly say to her to prompt a real kiss, my daydream was doused when I saw a slender figure sit down across the table from me.

  It was Henry, one of the boys that Whitney had been hanging out with. He slapped his tray down on the table and smiled at me.

  “Mind if I sit?” he asked, although he had already sat.

  “Sure,” I said. “Henry, right?”

  “Yep,” he said. “And you’re Natasha,” said Henry, pointing a fork at me.

  “Yep.”

  “Did you start working on that essay for English 201H?” he asked, digging into a boat of cheesy pasta with red sauce.

  “Yes,” I said absently. “I’m doing mine on To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf.”

  “I haven’t read it,” said Henry. “Is it good?”

  “Very,” I said. “It’s kinda weird and post-modern, but I enjoy it. I read it for a presentation I did in AP English in high school.”

  “Are you humble bragging?” said Henry with a wry smile.

  “No!” I protested. “Okay, maybe a little.”

  “Well, I was in AP English, too,” he said, fussing with the various plated foods on his tray. Then he picked up his glass and took a sip of water.

  “That’s how we both tested out of the usual first year English course, I guess,” I said.

  “Mm hmm,” he intoned.

  We sat together in silence for a few moments, focusing on our lunches.

  “You sure you don’t mind that I’m sitting here?” he asked suddenly.

  “No,” I said. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

  “Want to share?” he said, shrugging. Henry was an interesting looking boy. He wore an almost too short white t-shirt with an iron-on picture of Winona Ryder, like he’d made it himself. His hair was a messy mop of hair, dyed blue-black, and he wore black plastic eyeglasses on his nose.

  “Share what?” I said, accidentally missing part of the conversation.

  “Your broccoli,” he said, leaning over with his fork, making like he was going to take one of my florets.

  “Hey!”

  “I’m kidding,” he said. “Share. I mean, share what’s on your mind. School problems?”

  “No,” I said. “Just… it’s nothing.”

  “Okay,” he said evenly, returning to his meal.

  “Did you make that t-shirt?” I asked.

  “I didn’t sew it or anything,” he said. “But I did print this picture out of Winona Ryder onto transfer paper and then ironed it on.”

  “Are you sweet on her or something?” I said coyly, my shyness melting slightly as we stumbled through our conversation.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Who wouldn’t be?”

  “She’s probably a little old for you,” I said.

  “I’m stuck in the 90s, I guess,” he said without irony.

  “I guess,” I said.

  “I like your hair, Natasha,” he said, looking up to me. “I mean, you’ve kinda got a 90s vibe about you.”

  “What?” I said, unable to hide my amusement. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah,” said Henry. “You’d totally fit in at a Pavement concert with your look.” I laugh
ed again.

  “Dude, I don’t even know what that means,” I said. “What’s a Pavement concert?”

  “They were a band,” he said. It took me a moment, but I soon realized that this guy was hitting on me in his own weird way. I looked across the table at him once I figured it out and he gave me a toothy grin.

  I really wasn’t sure how to handle this. I had certainly been hit on by boys before but never by a guy like this. He didn’t seem at all fazed by any of my weird comebacks. He was just doing his thing. It made me kind of nervous. I didn’t want to make him think he had a chance, but I also didn’t really know how to be truthful with him. You know, considering I often had a hard time being truthful with myself.

  “Hey Henry,” I said casually, trying to play it cool.

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything,” I started, then bit my lip and looked off from him.

  “What?” he said.

  “Are you, like, trying to hit on me?” I said, feeling my stomach drop. It was rare that I was so frank. But something about college life and my budding friendship with Hosannah was causing me to feel the need to do things a bit differently.

  “Yeah,” he said frankly. “Yeah, I guess I was. Is that all right? Can I proceed?”

  “Well…” I said, trailing off, not quite sure how to respond to that. “I mean, it’s not gonna get you anywhere.”

  “Oh,” he said in a knowing voice, nodding his head. “I got it. You’re a lesbian.”

  “What?” I exclaimed, suddenly feeling pressured and scared. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You’re not a lesbian?” said Henry, apologetic terror in his face. “Oh my God, Natasha, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. It was just, you know, the way you said what you said — it’s not gonna get you anywhere — it just felt like, you know, you were implying something.”

  “No,” I said quietly. “I mean, Henry, I—“

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized again. “Don’t cry, Natasha. You look like you’re gonna cry.”

  “I’m not,” I said, sniffing.

  “I’ll go,” he said quickly, reaching for his tray. “Look, I’m really sorry Natasha. It was an honest mistake. I’m cool, I promise.”

  “Don’t go,” I squeaked out. “It’s okay.”

  “I didn’t mean to, like, pigeonhole your sexuality,” said Henry. “I don’t know what I’m talking about. That wasn’t a cool thing to say.”

  “No, Henry,” I said, calming down but feeling very anxious in my heart. “No, you’re right.”

  “I’m right?” he said with a hint of confusion. He sat up straight on the bench, leaning back from his food, giving me a very baffled look.

  “I just—,” I said, feeling a strange mixture of weariness and strength. “No, I don’t know.”

  “Oh,” he said, still quite obviously confused. “So, are you…?”

  “Maybe,” I said in a murmur.

  “Maybe?” he repeated. “Wait, you’re not, like, coming out to me… are you? Natasha?” He ran his hand through his messy mop of a hairdo, looking exasperated.

  “No,” I said, feeling teary-eyed. “I don’t know.” I wasn’t sure why it all came out to Henry like it did. Maybe he just seemed like a kindred spirit or something, a good person. Maybe he was just distant enough for me to make a trial run at it. But the words felt right, no matter how badly I was butchering my speech, and the feelings were starting to burst out of me.

  “Wow,” said Henry, leaning in a bit and lowering his voice. “I won’t tell anybody if this is, like, too new of a thing for you.” His words were so tender and heartfelt, the care in his voice making me feel ever more emotional. “I’m sure I wasn’t the one you meant to say this all to first.”

  “You weren’t,” I said sullenly.

  “I guess life doesn’t always happen how we plan it,” he said.

  “No,” I said.

  “It’s cool,” he said with comfort in his tone. “It’s okay if you don’t know. Maybe you’re bisexual if you’re unsure? College is the time for all this stuff. People here, especially people in Leopold Hall, aren’t going to judge you or anything like that. We’re all cool around here.”

  “I know,” I said. “Thank you, Henry.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I think I’m gonna go now,” I said, taking my tray in my hands.

  “No problem,” he said. “If you ever want to talk…” said Henry, trailing off, looking to me earnestly as I stood up from the cafeteria table.

  “Thank you,” I said. I didn’t feel like saying much more. The entire conversation took me by surprise and I was unsure of the feelings that were moving through me. Mostly it was confusion, anxiety, fear.

  Henry watched me as I walked away from the table to drop off my tray. I could feel his eyes on my back. It was, in a weird way, comforting.

  *

  I had texted Hosannah to see what she was up to, as per her request, and she told me to stop into the ALOHA office sometime in the mid-afternoon so we could catch up. I couldn’t help but feel totally lightened in the heart at her suggestion, as I was eager to see her pretty face, to talk to her, to explore her mind. This totally new thing was exciting and every new part of it I could uncover felt like solving a piece of some eternal puzzle.

  As I neared the ALOHA office I heard voices, Hosannah’s voice clearly, and then another low voice with a slight Southern drawl. I crept up closer to the door and then realized, obviously, that this second voice was Anna Sacco. Sacco was an older woman, probably in her late 60s, small and wiry, with a somewhat unkempt bundle of short white hair atop her head. I had never spoken to her in my time in the ALOHA program, I’d only seen her in our weekly class with all the other students. Closing in on the office, I could hear Hosannah and Sacco laughing together.

  “I think someone’s out there,” I heard Hosannah say. “Come on in, you’re not interrupting anything,” she called out to the hallway.

  I slipped into view and smiled sheepishly at the two of them, giving a small wave.

  “Well hello,” said Sacco. “Come in, dear.”

  “Thank you,” I demurred, slinking into the ALOHA office with my eyes averted down to the floor.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met,” said Sacco. “I’m Anna Sacco,” she said with a grin, thrusting her hand out toward me. “I’m guessing you’re part of our freshmen class.”

  “Natasha Blake,” I said softly, taking Sacco’s hand. “I’m an English major.”

  “That’s terrific,” said Sacco. “Welcome to college. Are you enjoying it so far?”

  “It has its ups and downs,” I said, causing Sacco to laugh.

  “Of course,” she said. “So it goes. Do you know Hosannah?” she asked me. Hosannah had a knowing grin on her face as she looked over to me.

  “I do,” I said. “She’s been very helpful.”

  “That’s great to hear,” said Sacco. “I’m a big fan of Hosannah.”

  “Thanks Professor,” said Hosannah with impish delight. “I’m a big fan of Professor Sacco.”

  I could tell the two of them got along really well. There was an obvious connection between them. Like they had some sort of low level understanding.

  “Are you coming to Stratford?” asked Sacco with interest. “I sure hope you are as it’s an amazing trip.”

  “I am,” I said. “I’m very excited for it.”

  “Great,” she said. “It’s only…” said Sacco, looking over to a small calendar on Hosannah’s desk. “Wow, it’s only a week away! That sure snuck up quick. Did you pay for your tickets?”

  “I did, Professor,” I said calmly.

  “Wonderful,” said Sacco. She looked around the office for a moment with a hint of confusion and then a lightbulb went off. Reaching down to Hosannah’s desk, she took a file folder and stuffed it under her arm. “Natasha, it was great meeting you,” she said. “I’ll see you in our next ALOHA class.”

&nb
sp; “It was nice meeting you, Professor,” I said.

  “I’ll let you talk with Hosannah about whatever issues you’re having,” said Sacco, beginning to scoot past me. “Hosannah, I’ll talk to you a little later.”

  “Will do, Professor,” said Hosannah, giving Sacco a thumbs up.

  “Take care, ladies,” she said with an affable smile. Sacco slipped out the office and left us alone.

  “Hey you,” said Hosannah wryly. “Take a seat.” Reaching back, Hosannah took hold of the piece of elastic that held her ponytail in place and pulled it out, causing her dark brown hair to spill out over her shoulders. She scrunched her nose up at me with a happy visage on her face and watched as I sat down in the chair in front of her desk.

  “Sacco’s pretty nice,” I mused.

  “I love her,” said Hosannah. “She’s really been a great mentor to me.”

  “She has a very nice presence,” I said. “Like, a calming presence.”

  “Did you know she’s a lesbian?” asked Hosannah with a frankness in her voice. I couldn’t help it and I suddenly felt that tinge of anxiety well up in me. It was almost as though Hosannah knew what had happened earlier with Henry.

  “No,” I said softly, quietly.

  “She’s been out since, like, the 70s,” said Hosannah matter-of-factly. “Maybe earlier. Sacco’s an inspiration. If you haven’t read some of her poetry, you most certainly should.”

  “I will,” I said.

  “So what can I do for you?” said Hosannah in a business-like tone. After a moment, though, she realized that she had gone into autopilot for her job and slapped herself softly on the forehead. “Sorry, I invited you here.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, stifling a laugh.

  “Right,” she said, getting herself on track. “So I have a fun thing we could do together later on,” said Hosannah grinning. “That is, I mean, if you want to hang out with me.”

  “I do!” I said, letting my eagerness show. “Yes, I’d love to hang out.”

  “Perfect,” said Hosannah. “So there’s this open mic over at the auditorium,” she began, a fiendish smile growing on her face. “I was thinking we could head over there tonight and maybe sign up to do something.”