“Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but I’ve got something important to ask Elise,” Tatiana said. We turned back to the table, guiltily.
“I’ve just this minute had confirmation that a fashion show I’ve been trying to organize has been approved.”
“That’s great, Tati!” Jack said. Tatiana nodded excitedly.
“The plan is to do an initial show right here in town as a rehearsal, probably next week. Then the main show will be in New York on November 15th weekend. So, Elise, I’d really like for you to be one of my models. Are you in?”
“You mean modeling live? On a catwalk?” I said.
“Yes. And since you’re on the website, you’d be the lead model. I’d pay you, of course, and it’ll be a free trip to New York, with all expenses paid.” I deliberated for about three seconds, thinking about my latest, greasy, sweaty, demoralizing shift at the diner. I’d coped with the fashion shoot, despite having Jack watching me the whole time. This should be easy in comparison.
“I’m in!” I said. Tatiana broke into a sweet, unaffected smile, and Jack put her arm around my shoulders and planted a kiss on my cheek.
“That’s great, baby!” she whispered. Then she bounded over to the bar and came back a minute later with a top-shelf tequila, limes and salt, along with a dazed-looking Val, rubbing at the back of his straggly gray head.
“Let’s do a toast, to Tatiana’s first fashion show!” she said. We clinked shot glasses. I prepared myself to grimace as I knocked back the tequila, but it was rich, and a little viscous, with barely a burn in the back of my throat.
“The cheap stuff you get when you order a shot is hardly any better than paint stripper,” Jack said, as I remarked how good it was. She filled the glasses up again, and then I was being toasted for agreeing to be in the show.
“And congratulations to you not having to work in the diner anymore,” she said, close to my ear.
We kept drinking and chatting, and more shots followed, with everyone being congratulated for one thing or another, including Val for being the best boss ever.
I couldn’t remember getting home or going to bed, and the next thing I was aware of was waking up to possibly the worst hangover of my life.
“How did last night get so crazy?” I whispered croakily, pulling the comforter off my face. The chink of light seeping between the curtains was like a drill in my brain. I hadn’t even lifted my head off the pillow yet, but it was already pounding. Jack was up, coming back into the bedroom with two large glasses of water. I was aware that she looked sexy in her black tank top and gray boy shorts, but my body felt too sick to respond.
“Here, try to drink this,” she said, handing me the glass. I sat up cautiously and drank it all down.
“I take full responsibility,” she said, climbing back into bed.
“I shouldn’t have drunk so much,” I complained.
“Did you have fun?”
“Yeah, I had the best time. Your friends are really awesome. And your boss is hilarious.”
“Well then. It’s important to let off steam and have fun sometimes. Even if you end up paying the penalty the next day.”
“I guess so,” I said.
“Ok, to atone for my part in your hangover, I’m going to make you breakfast in bed. Anything you want. I can do a full American breakfast if you like?” My stomach rumbled.
“That would be amazing!” I said, brightening up. Jack stumbled around the bedroom, pulling on jeans, a button-down shirt and sneakers.
“I’ll be back in about ten minutes,” she said. “Shall I open the curtains?” I deliberated, not wanting to be exposed to the daylight. I didn’t want to waste what looked to be a beautiful day though, so I nodded, and the sun came streaming in.
It was Saturday morning, my favorite day of the week. I always tried to avoid studying on Saturdays, and, although I often had to work in the afternoon and evening, it always retained a sense of freedom and promise. I lay back on the pillow and thought about the night before, replaying the things people had said and done, trying to remember if I’d said anything cringy to anyone. But I felt calm, with none of those flickers of anxiety that typically followed a drunken night out. Then I remembered: I was going to be in Tatiana’s fashion show! The recollection came with a flutter of excitement and nerves. I was going to New York! Maybe I could quit my crappy job. I was supposed to be starting at the diner at 5 today, and the thought of not going back there, ever, was like a beautiful dream.
Jack struggled into the room with two plates of American breakfast, left and returned again with two cups of coffee. I balanced the amazing-smelling food on my lap, and took a sip of the coffee. The caffeine seemed to alleviate my headache immediately, and I sighed in satisfaction.
“All is forgiven,” I said, and we began eating.
“Good. I was feeing a little guilty,” Jack said.
“Don’t worry, I’m perfectly capable of getting in a drunken state all by myself!”
“Really? I always had the impression you weren’t a drinker.”
“Oh, I started young. My mom always had alcohol around. You could say she had a problem with it. Sometimes she’d go out, leaving Melissa and me by ourselves, and we’d dig out her rum from her latest hiding place, and sneak a few swigs. It took us years to work out that we weren’t supposed to drink it straight. Then when I was 18, in my senior year, I drank heavily. All that year, I partied a lot, but I often drank alone too. I’m surprised I managed to graduate.”
“Just another sign of how smart you are,” Jack said kissing my cheek. “But, seriously, I don’t blame you for drinking. It was obviously your way of dealing with a very difficult time.” I shrugged.
“Melissa went the other way though. She turned into a health freak. Two weeks after dad died, she signed herself up for an iron man contest, and started training like crazy. I feel guilty that my way of grieving probably made me worse, instead of better.”
“Don’t be silly. You can’t be hard on yourself for that.”
“But I always worry that it means I’ve got an underlying drinking issue, just like mom.”
“Did you continue drinking once you got to college?” I shook my head.
“No. I rarely drink at home, only standard night-out drinking. I don’t get the urge either. It’s not like I’m having to repress it all the time.”
“Then I think you’re good,” Jack said.
“It’s funny though. People probably think I’m innocent when they meet me, but I feel like someone who’s been through a lot and then reformed themself.”
“Which is part of your charm,” Jack said. “You always surprise me, Elise.” She lifted my hand and kissed it, and my chest glowed with warmth. The memory of what Marianne had said about Jack surfaced in my mind. I couldn’t imagine it of her.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked, hating myself as the words spilled out of my mouth.
“Of course.”
“Why do you and Marianne hate each other?” Jack took a deep breath.
“Nothing dramatic on my part. She just has a way of creating bad feeling, like she enjoys trying to break people up, and spreads malicious gossip all the time.”
“And she hates you because?”
“I guess because I don’t rise to it. I just try to ignore her. That and the fact that she didn’t get picked for the soccer team. She thought she was some hot shot, because she played for her high school, but, by coincidence, there are some really great players here, and she didn’t make it. But because she’s arrogant, she assumes it’s because I’ve got a personal vendetta against her, because we’re both tomboyish types.”
“Oh. That makes sense,” I said quietly.
“What did she say about me at the LGB thing?”
“That I have to watch out for girls like you, and that you get bored easily, after the initial attraction has worn off.” Jack threw her head back and cackled.
“Wow, she’s surpassed herself this time. That’s a real low, e
ven by her standards. Did she say she was telling you this because she cares about you?”
“Uh huh.”
“That’s a classic line of hers, trust me. I haven’t got bored of anyone I’ve dated. Often things haven’t worked out because there have been compatibility issues on both sides. And I’ve been dumped as often as I’ve done the dumping. The truth is that I’m a relationship-oriented type of person, so, if I see that things aren’t going to last, yes, I do think it’s better to move on than to let things degenerate into bickering and mutual antipathy. But it’s not because I’m running off after something new. God, she’s unbelievable.” Jack shook her head, as if trying to rid herself of thoughts of Marianne. I’d been sitting stiffly next to her, but now I allowed myself to collapse against her shoulder.
“I was starting to pick up on that,” I said. I fiddled with the hem of her shirt, wondering if I should ask one more question.
“Someone else was badmouthing you at the LGB thing too,” I said.
“Who?” I told her what the girl Laura had said about Christie. She paused to absorb the information.
“I’m sure you know that’s not true, since I was confiding in you about how things weren’t working with Christie before we ever go together.”
“Yeah, Laura didn’t mention that Christie put an ultimatum on you.”
“Of course she didn’t. Christie knew that was a shitty thing to do, so I’m absolutely sure she left it out of descriptions of what an asshole I was for breaking up with her.” Jack pulled her arm out from between us, and lifted it up and around my shoulder. Something in me unwound itself, and I felt protected.
“I did know it wasn’t true as well,” I murmured.
“But you’d just gone to the group to help you learn things about yourself, and instead, you heard bad things about the person you were dating, twice, in quick succession. You must’ve felt like shit. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that, Elise.” With her free hand, she stroked my hair. “I can’t believe those two. They should know better. They both go to group in an ‘assisting’ capacity, so they’ve got a responsibility not to harm new members of the group.” I lifted my mouth for a kiss, and she met it, her lips warm, and the breath from her nostrils sweet.
“I can’t stand the thought that these two snake-princesses could’ve messed things up between us. Do you trust me, Elise?” I looked into her eyes, black and sparkling.
“I do,” I said.
“Good. I’m crazy about you. Please don’t doubt that.” She kissed the top of my head.
Chapter Five
Jack
Tatiana had booked out one of the main halls in college for her fashion show. She was showing with two other students, but it was clear that she was the main event. She was the only one of them who was already designing commercially, and her name and designs were more prominent in the advertising. I was struck to see my friend doing so well. I had never doubted it of Tatiana, and I had been watching her growing success from the start. Still, it was a surprise to see the person you got stoned with being so impressive and professional.
The college hall had been transformed, with floor-to-ceiling white drapes, tasteful violet-toned lighting and quirky, shabby chic props. It evoked a French Revolution-era boudoir, with a hint of punk. I could hear people whispering excitedly about the set, saying they couldn’t wait to see the clothes, and I glowed with pride.
Tatiana had talked Jess into modeling for her, and, with her height, slenderness and great skin, she looked the part. Alyssa had escaped the embarrassment, protesting that she was way too short to be a model, and Tatiana’s diaphanous designs didn’t suit me, so Alyssa and I sat together, in a prime spot to the side of the photographers.
I hadn’t expected Elise to be the first on the catwalk, so I was unprepared when the show began with a burst of heavy rock music, and she appeared from behind a screen at the side of the stage. I watched open-mouthed as she strode the length of the catwalk on her long, bare legs. She was barely recognizable, in heavy costume make up. Tatiana had gone for a futuristic fairy look, with Elise and the girls who followed her out having pale, silvery faces, equally pale lips, and eye make-up fanning out to their temples. Elise’s dress was pale silver, with a tight bodice and a shoulder wrap, suggestive of fairy wings, and it finished in a long, filmy skirt, slashed to the thigh on one side.
“Wow,” Alyssa breathed. “Elise looks unbelievable!” She did. I felt a second glow of pride at seeing her being watched by so many people, looking so beautiful and self-assured. She wasn’t actually as serene as she appeared. It had taken a pep talk and several swigs of Patron tequila from my famous hip flask to get her into a state where she was happy to go on the runway.
“Oh my god, is that Jess?” Alyssa hissed.
“Yes! She’s walked past us twice now, and it’s taken us this long to recognize her!” She also looked stunning. Wearing heels, for the first time since I’d know her, she towered over the other models. She was wearing a pale green dress that brought out the color of her eyes, and she had a long cloak that trailed behind her. Only her close friends could’ve known that she was dying of embarrassment.
Elise seemed to be on stage more than any other model, in a dazzling array of outfits. They were made from netting, chiffon, gauze and imitation chain mail, all sheer enough for a ghost of her toned curves to be visible beneath. She had an immaculate quality that made me want her more than ever. As the show reached its finale, all the models came out and took their positions, and Elise came out last, dressed as a punk fairy queen, in a crazy, elaborate wedding cake of a dress. There were torrents of applause, worthy of the finale of a Broadway musical, and I restrained the urge to jump out of my seat and throw my arms around her.
When the models walked back up the runway, Alyssa and I got up and ran around to the back. Elise skipped over as soon as she saw me, smiling shyly as I handed her the bunch of crimson roses that I’d been hiding under my seat during the show. I kissed her carefully, cautious of the glittery make-up she was wearing.
“You were so good, babe!” I said.
“Was I really?” she whispered.
“Beautiful, and so sexy that I wanted to drag you off the stage,” I said.
“Seriously?” Forgetting about the make up, she kissed me full on the lips.
“Oops!” she said, giggling, and brushed at my face.
“I’m covered in glitter now, aren’t I?”
“Maybe!” Figuring it wouldn’t make much difference, I went in for another kiss.
Suddenly, Elise shoved me away from her. My eyes flew open to see that hers were huge and terrified. I jerked my head around, and was greeted by the sight of a pretty blonde woman staring at us in absolute shock.
“Melissa! I thought you couldn’t make it tonight!” Elise said in a strangled voice. Melissa? Oh my god, her sister. Who’s just seen her younger sister – who she had no idea was gay – kissing me. And not only that, but she’s holding a bunch of flowers, and I’m covered in glitter. Could this be any worse? I stared back at Melissa, paralyzed.
“I managed to finish up early, so I rushed here, hoping to catch the last few minutes at least. But looks like I missed you,” her sister said, her features composed.
“That’s ok,” Elise said, in a voice that didn’t sound like hers. I was dimly aware that the situation might have been comical if I wasn’t caught right in the middle of it.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Melissa said.
“I – uh – ” Elise stopped. Nothing more came out. Alyssa discreetly elbowed me, jolting me into action. I held my hand out to Melissa.
“I’m Jack,” I said.
“Very nice to meet you, Jack. I’m Melissa,” she said, shaking my hand warmly. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but, in the absence of any introductions from my sister, I’m going to jump to the conclusion that you’re Elise’s girlfriend?”
“Yes I am,” I said. Melissa was smiling; she didn’t look like she wanted to ki
ll me. The tension in my body unwound a fraction. I glanced at Elise, who was still a petrified rabbit.
“Melissa – I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to tell you – ” she stammered at last.
“Hey, how about we all chill the fuck out, and go out for dinner, so we can celebrate you being in the show,” Melissa said. “And I can have the opportunity of getting to know your girlfriend?” Elise gave me a panicked look.
“That sounds lovely,” I said.
Melissa went off to make a call, while Elise stripped off some of her make-up, and Alyssa and I waited for Tatiana to finish air-kissing approximately 3,000 people, so we could congratulate her. She was bouncy and excitable, and said she might be free for a late drink, before returning to the endless photos and proclamations of how amazing she was.
I suggested going to my favorite Mexican. Melissa had her own car, so Elise and I drove there in mine. As soon as we were alone together, Elise let out a long sigh.
“Are you ok?” I said.
“I think so. I mean, I think she’s going to be cool.”
“Are you serious? She’s been uber relaxed so far.”
“I know. I just feel bad for shocking her.”
“It wasn’t ideal, I agree, but she’s a big girl. And she recovered fast.”
“She did.”
Melissa beat us to the restaurant. She waved as she saw us walk in, and we joined her at a corner booth.
“If the décor is anything to go by, I’m sold on this place already,” Melissa said. It was a modern and slightly playful take on a rustic Mexican restaurant, with antique bric-a-brac from the 50s or thereabouts, mis-matched authentic-looking furniture, and imitation-adobe walls, adorned with portraits of famous singers and actresses from long ago. The sweet, harsh, mournful songs of Chavela Vargas drifted through the dining room.
The moment we sat down, three tequila shots appeared on the table.
“This is so you can stop being a worry-wort, little sis,” Melissa said, and we knocked them back with salt and lime. “Of course I’m a little sad that you’ve been keeping Jack here a secret. But I do understand why.” Melissa turned her gaze onto me. “Our dad was an old-school homophobe, forever making comments about fags and lesbos. I don’t think he was actually a gay-hater. It was just his generation, you know?” I nodded, not wanting to push myself into the conversation.
Me and Her (Always Her, Book 2): Lesbian Romance Page 7