Paige sat cross-legged on her bed, scribbling notes in the margins of her Mass Media Ethics textbook, the latest Affluent Nudists’ album droning from the speakers of the stereo surmounting her dresser. Paige’s silenced phone illuminated atop the heap of folded laundry to her right. She glared at the device, picked it up, and read Justin’s incoming message.
Paigey! Lennox and I are on for lunch tomorrow. I’m so jazzed! How are things with you?
“Ugh!” Paige tossed the phone onto her pillow and it lit up again. “Oh, my fucking—” She grabbed the cell and put it to her ear. “What?” she barked.
“Hun?” the baritone voice asked. “Is that you?”
“Dad! Hi. Yes, it’s me. Sorry. I thought you were a…a telemarketer,” Paige said.
“Really? But we registered your number on the ‘do not call’ list.”
“Yeah. Sometimes a random one will filter through. Bastards.”
“Even on a Sunday?”
“I can never be too circumspect,” Paige said.
“I see. Well, how’s your semester going?”
“It’s been a week, Dad.”
“Then all’s fine and dandy?”
“No! It’s hellish. I have this tyrannical professor who thinks I’m the antichrist because I don’t read The Boston Terrene, his personal bible, which places me at the hierarchy of his shit list. My grade in that class? Already at stake. Then The Miranda Intellect decided to double my responsibilities, so now I have to write an editorial piece and the horoscopes. The horoscopes, Dad. And, as of today, I have the school’s equivalent of the lesbian mafia on the hunt for me.”
Mr. Galner chuckled. “Alright. Rocky start. You’ll endure.”
“That’s what you have? Comforting.”
“Paige, you can do this. You’re a Galner. Work your ass off for that teacher and show him what you’re made of. Take the astrology task in stride. You might even have fun with it. Use it to your benefit,” Mr. Galner said.
“Come again?”
“You can enchant women using that zodiac drivel. These are your college years. You should be out dating.”
Paige scoffed. “You would not be saying that if I were straight.”
“Would too. I’m a feminist. Have been for decades. I’m all for everyone having sex, as long as it’s consensual, protection is being used, and the participants are educated.”
“I do cherish these father/daughter talks.”
“As do I. So, are you seeing anyone?”
“Daaaad.”
“You’re through with Mila, though, aren’t you?”
“It’s Hanna. Mila is the alias I gave her for when I wrote about her,” Paige said.
“Ah. For your stories on the interweb?”
“For my blog on the internet. And yes, we’re over.”
“There’s no one else?” Mr. Galner asked.
“No.”
“Hey. Being single can be groovy. Lots of freedom.”
“Can we please change the theme here?” Paige implored.
“Okay. Tell me about this lesbian squad. What do they want?”
“Me. Drawn and quartered.”
“Why?”
“I might’ve made a faux pas.” Paige winced.
“How?”
“Dad, I wasn’t trying to be disloyal to you. I was trying to do something good.”
“What is it?” Mr. Galner asked.
“You know the post I had up on bisexuality and my stance on it?”
“Yeah.”
“I deleted it. Are you mad?”
“Gosh, no! Why would I be—” Mr. Galner sighed through a smile into the phone’s receiver. “Oh. Paige, I thought we resolved this in therapy.”
“I don’t condone what she did. Dad, I’m your ally, but I can’t persecute bisexuals anymore. It’d be unjust. You taught me to be a better person than that.”
“We’re a duo, kid. I’d never doubt your allegiance. Do you copy?”
Paige exhaled. “Yes.”
“I coached you to be a conscientious individual. If you did what you thought was the honorable thing to do, then we’ve both succeeded.”
“You, maybe, but not me,” Paige said. “What I did…it’s why those chicks want to annihilate me. To them, I desecrated the gay community.”
“Are they your family?” Mr. Galner asked.
“Huh? No.”
“Are they your friends?”
“No.”
“Do they have to live with your actions?”
“No.”
“Who does?”
“Only I do,” Paige said.
“Mmm. Then their assessment of you shouldn’t carry any weight. Ya comprehend what I’m saying here?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Dad.”
“It’s what fathers are for. Now, when are you gonna come visit your old man?”
“When’s he going to cook me Chicken Florentine?”
“This Saturday it is then,” Mr. Galner said.
“I’ll be there by six.”
“Okeydoke. And Paige, you’re a young woman of integrity. Stay that way.”
Chapter Twelve
Monday morning Paige tramped into her dorm room, toting a shower caddy on her left forearm while using her right hand to wring her hair with a towel.
“You’re still not out of bed?” Paige asked Keira.
Keira pulled the pillow from under her head and smooshed it into her face. “Aargh! I despise weekdays!”
Paige locked the door, put her belongings on the floor by the bookshelf, and jaunted over to Keira’s side of their abode. Paige grinned to herself and thrashed Keira with the soggy cloth.
Keira yelped and sprang from the mattress. She started giggling and pointed at Paige. “You’re a jerk!”
“Hey, I don’t want you to flunk your Shakespeare for Dorks class.”
“Whoa! Then you’re a dork, too!” Keira said.
“Pshaw!” Paige said. “I am the paragon of fly.”
“Baloney! You said Hamlet was in your top five books when I told you about that seminar.”
“Damn you and your impeccable memory.”
“Bwa ha ha!” Keira faked a sinister laugh. Then she smiled. “I’m in fact grateful that you’re the butthole that you are, because now I have ample time to get gussied up for first period.”
“Ah. And by that you mean straightening your hair and smearing on lip gloss?”
“Yup.”
“Hmm. Is there someone you’re trying to dazzle?” Paige asked.
“No.”
“Well, I like your curls. Why don’t you go au naturel?”
“I do every so often.” Keira picked a small basket of toiletries off her dresser and went for the exit. She turned back to Paige. “Yo?”
“What?”
“Don’t fret if you see those twits around campus. We got your hiney covered,” Keira said.
“Right.”
“Falafel Shanty for lunch? Twelve o’clock-ish?”
Paige nodded. “Yes.”
“Glorious.”
Paige chuckled. “Bye, Keira.”
“Eh. Not yet. There’s a thing I have to tell you that has to do with the conversation we didn’t have yesterday.”
“Spill.”
Keira frowned. “Justin and Lennox…they um—”
“Justin told me. I don’t care,” Paige said.
“You don’t care?”
“That’s what I said.”
“And yet I’m not swayed.”
“Keira! Scram! Adios. Farewell.”
“You adios.” Keira stuck out her tongue at Paige. “Oooh yeah. If you ever flog me again, Paige, you’ll be sleeping with one eye open for eternity. Okay? Okay. Bye!”
After her women’s lit class, Paige submitted her weekly editorial and astrological forecasts to the News Director of The Miranda Intellect. With an hour to spare until she had to meet Keira, Paige sprinted across campus to the cafeteria for a cup of the school’s mediocre coffee
. She got in line, wheezing, and then espied the sleek, reddish locks on the girl standing two people ahead of her. Paige’s breathing ceased. Dizzy, she warily started to tread in reverse, resolute on fleeing unseen.
“Oww!” the owner of the toes to Paige’s back squawked after the heel of her boot stamped on them.
Paige cringed and lurched to the side of the queue. Lennox wheeled around to evaluate the commotion. Paige stared at the tall, young man who was behind her seconds ago.
“I am so sorry,” Paige said.
He gave Paige a scornful look. “These are new.” He indicated to the scuff on his left shoe. “Now they’re dirty.”
“Um, I’ll be more careful,” Paige said.
“You do that,” he said and faced the person in front of him.
“Sure thing,” Paige said. She made a dash for the door, but Lennox caught up to her and arrested her arm.
“Paige, hey. You okay?” Lennox asked.
“Yeah. I…please let go of me.”
Lennox’s cheeks tinged with scarlet. She took her hand off Paige. “Were you running from something? Someone?” She smiled woundedly. “Me?”
“No. Why would I do that?”
“You didn’t return my call. I thought you were dodging me.”
Paige elevated her eyebrows to simulate astonishment. “You called?”
“Huh.” Lennox sucked her teeth. “You didn’t get my message?”
“Mmm.” Paige glanced at the rafters above her for a moment. Then she looked at Lennox. “Nope.”
“I’ll need proof.”
“What?”
“Show me your phone.”
Paige chuckled. “Ha. Not happening.”
“Or, I could just thieve it from the right pocket of your jeans,” Lennox said.
“You’re certain that I keep my cell there?”
“It’s poking out.”
“Oh. So really what you’re telling me is that you’re appraising my physique.”
“Am I appraising currently? No. Have I?” Lennox grinned impishly. “Yes.”
Paige’s gut stirred. “I don’t think you’re brazen enough to burglarize me. There.”
In a singular, swift motion, Lennox pilfered Paige’s cell. “You don’t know me all that well.”
“Darn.”
Lennox examined the gadget’s screen. “Looky here. You do have a message. We should listen.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“What’s your password?”
“None of your beeswax.”
“Alright. I’ll guess.” Lennox pressed several numbers on the keypad and activated Paige’s phone.
“How’d you do that?”
Lennox shrugged. “I’m gifted.” She pressed another button and put the cellular on speaker.
An automated voice spoke. “You have one saved message. To li—”
“Stop!” Paige shook her head. “Okay. It’s from you.”
Lennox smiled and gave Paige the phone. “You saved my message?”
“Don’t make it into a thing.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Lennox said. “Were you ever going to call me?”
“Sooner or later.”
Lennox pursed her lips. “That’s reassuring. Listen, I re-subscribed to your blog. The webmaster says I’ll get an email whenever you post.”
“Don’t set your expectations too high,” Paige said.
“Why? You have to write. It’s what you do.”
“Eh.”
“I recruited more followers for you,” Lennox said.
“How?”
“I did some outreach. I was the president of my high school’s GSA. This way you’ll have an assortment of readers. More diversity. Gay, straight, lesbian, bi, trans, intersex. Everyone.”
“Whoa, whoa, and whoa,” Paige said. “Why in heaven’s name would you do that? I didn’t ask for that. It’s a lesbian blog. Just because I took down the cynical post on bisexuality doesn’t mean it’s a free for all. It’s not an open forum.”
“Would it be so terrible if it were?”
“Aargh! You don’t get it,” Paige said.
“What is there to get? You said you were pro-unity.”
“I am. Meaning I won’t be identity-bashing anymore. But I only have a smidge of creditability among the lesbian community now and I’m going to cling to it. They’re the reason my blog flourished.”
“No, Paige. You’re the reason your blog flourished. You created it. You have an opportunity to affect a vast segment of queer nation with your words. Don’t you want that?” Lennox asked.
“Do I want an influx of new haters? No. Uh uh.”
“They’re not haters.”
“They will be,” Paige said. “I write about lesbian things because that’s what I know.”
Lennox sighed. “You were present for our exchange of dialogue at The Bean, weren’t you?”
“I were–I was.”
“Did you dismiss all that I said?”
“What?”
“So, to recap, lesbian things are human things. You’re good to go,” Lennox said. “I’m not trying to bloat your ego, but you’re a competent writer. Take stock in that.”
“Um…thanks.”
“For the acclaim or the supplementary followers?”
“Both.”
Lennox smiled. “You’re welcome.” She glimpsed at the clock on the wall. “Hey, I have to go.”
“Me too.”
“Alright. I’ll see ya.” Lennox began walking to the exit.
Half a minute elapsed before Paige raced after her. “Lennox!”
Lennox stopped short when Paige cropped up in front of her. Their eyes met briefly but Paige looked away. The sublime, amber coloring surrounding Lennox’s pupils instantly overwhelmed Paige.
“Yeah?” Lennox’s dulcet voice solicited.
Paige toyed with the two titanium hoops in her right earlobe, which corresponded to the pair in her left. “My password. How—”
“Ah. That.” Lennox grinned. “In your debut blog post, you cite the day you came out. You said you celebrated that date every year. It was very raw. It’s been cemented in my brain since. February thirteenth. 0-2-1-3. I’m fanatical when it comes to landmark occasions.”
“So am I!” Paige immediately cringed, horrified by her own enthusiasm.
Lennox snickered. “Aww. We’re bonding.”
“Right.” Paige pulled at the harness of her bag.
“Paige, I…uh…I have to get going.”
“Okay. But um…would you maybe wanna get together sometime…as friends?”
Lennox smiled. “That is something I would want.”
“Just as friends.”
“I got that part.”
“Cool. Tomorrow night then?” Paige asked.
“I can do seven o’clock after band practice.”
“That works. There’s this trendy tea haunt, Steep, we could meet at.”
“Perfect. Then that’s where I’ll be,” Lennox said.
“Great. It’s a da–plan.”
“It is. So, have a nice rest of the day.”
“I will. You do the same.”
Lennox furnished a scant wave. “Bye, Paige.”
“Bye.”
As Lennox bustled down the hall, Paige privately relished her form, her flair…her.
Paige peeled the foil off her falafel, brought the food up to her mouth, and took a hearty bite.
Keira winced as ground chickpeas fell onto Paige’s chin. “Classy, Paige.”
Paige swallowed, swabbed her face with a napkin, and took a drink from her jug of water. “What? I was hungry.”
“Evidently.” Using a spork, Keira speared her sandwich and ate the morsel she acquired.
Paige shook her head. “We can’t all be as dainty as you. Why are you eating it that way?”
“Because I have rehearsal after this and there’s no restroom here. I don’t want my hands to stink up my bass.”
“Can’t you use
Callie’s bathroom?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Paige asked.
“Ugh. If I tell you, you’ll laugh at me.”
“I won’t.”
Keira sighed. “Her dog…he petrifies me.”
Paige chomped on a slice of tomato to subdue a chuckle. She guzzled more of her beverage and then spoke. “The Chihuahua?”
“Spike. Yes. He’s a monster.”
Paige coughed.
“You think it’s ludicrous,” Keira said. “I knew you would.”
“K, he’s an itty-bitty furball.”
“You haven’t seen how he is towards me. Vicious.”
“In what way?”
“Hey, chiclets!” Marissa took a chair from an uninhabited table nearby and dragged it over to where Keira and Paige were seated. She sat down and glanced at each girl. “What’s the what, ladies?”
Paige piped up. “Keira here was talking to me about—”
“Literature,” Keira said.
Marissa smiled. “Oh! Our Innovation of Shakespeare class?”
“Huh.” Paige raised an eyebrow at Keira. Then she looked questioningly at Marissa. “You’re in that class, too?”
“Yeah. And I’m amazed that you’re not. Aren’t you a poetry whore?” Marissa asked Paige.
“Rissa! Don’t be so vulgar. Christ almighty,” Paige said.
“Gee whiz!” Marissa shrugged. “Sorry.”
“It’s not poetry that gets her going,” Keira said. “It’s poet. She’s infatuated with some local author.”
“Ahh!” Marissa turned to Paige. “What’s so special about her?”
“She’s proficient at her craft,” Paige said. “And she’s dreamy.”
“Ha ha ha!” Marissa roared. “Dreamy.”
Keira giggled.
“She is!” Paige declared.
Marissa’s joviality slowly died. “Anyways, have either of you seen Callie?”
“Nope,” Keira said.
“No. Why don’t you call her?” Paige asked.
“I did. She’s not picking up. Damn. She was my ride.” Marissa grabbed Keira’s shoulder. “Keira, could you drive me to practice?”
Keira nodded. “Sure.”
“Thanks, babe!” Marissa checked her watch and got up. “Time to hit the road.”
Keira stood.
“Wait. I have to pee,” Marissa said.
“Employees only,” Keira notified Marissa.
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