by Deena Bright
Before we left the bar and started our drive back up north, Janelle went to the bathroom. She was gone quite a while, which made me start to worry. I went to the entryway of the bathroom. Finally, she emerged with the rest of her make up smeared, wiping her eyes. “What’s wrong? What happened?” I asked, worried.
Janelle had just left the table happy and came back out of the bathroom in tears. She only shook her head, and walked right past me. Now, I’m not some expert on chicks, but teary eyes and a head-shaking “No” meant that something was definitely up. Something big.
Janelle was quiet most of the drive home. We hit Mansfield, the half-way point, and she was still staring out the window into the darkness. I’d tried talking to her, but she “uh huhhhed” and nodded whenever I said anything. I pulled off and bought us each a milkshake, remembering that girls love ice cream when they’re down. She took a few sips, then the cup just sat on the counsel getting warm and milky. Man, something happened in that bathroom. She was nearly giddy all night long until she went to the bathroom. Fuck that bathroom. I wondered if she got a text from Cling, something that hurt her, broke her heart. I’d fuck him up. I swear to God.
When I pulled into the driveway, she unbuckled her seatbelt and immediately started getting out of the car, even before I turned the engine off. Then, as I was about to take the keys from the ignition, she said, “Thanks B, I had fun today.” And got out of the car.
B? When did she start calling me “B?” That’s it! Holy shit. I will burn that bathroom down. Son-of-a-bitch.
I got out of the car and caught up to her as she unlocked the door to the pool house. “Whoa, slow down Babe, you have to tell me what’s wrong—”
“Briggs, nothing. It’s all good… I’m just tired. I’m not used to all that exercise,” she explained.
This was not good at all. She never said, “It’s all good.” That’s what people fucking say when it’s all bad. That much I do know.
“Janelle… please,” I grabbed her hand, as she pulled it away, slowly, not angrily. But she definitely pulled it away—out of my grasp.
“It’s been a long day,” she said as she kissed my cheek. Cheek? Shit. “I’ll talk to you soon, Briggs. Goodnight.” And that was it.
Janelle walked in the door and closed it behind her. What the fuck did I do? I stood on her porch and recapped the day. 1. Tate. She seemed like she was in her element “fixing” him. It couldn’t have pissed her off 12 hours later. 2. Working out. That was fun. It was sexy. She was sexy. We both obviously enjoyed ourselves. 3. Sub shop. It was so good. I wish I had another one. Focus. People took pictures. I signed autographs. Janelle was completely fine with it. At least that’s what she said. 4. Bar. She loved the song. We kissed a lot after the song. She held my hand, rubbed my neck, and seemed like she was totally into it—into me. 5. Bathroom. Janelle went to the bathroom. 6. After the bathroom. Janelle was upset, crying, and quiet. Something fucking happened in that bathroom. What could happen in a bathroom? Fuck that bathroom.
I decided against sleeping at my apartment. I figured that I better go check on Tate. I should’ve been sleeping there all week while my parents were out of town. I knew better than to leave that dickhead alone all week. He’s constantly screwing up his life. Tate’s just so thickheaded. I was never that stubborn. Shit, I should’ve stayed at home this summer. Why would I sublet an apartment if I was only going to be home for three months? That was stupid. I have one last quarter at Ohio State. I’ll be out on my own soon enough. The ESPN signing bonus was so incredible though. I couldn’t stop myself from blowing a lot of it. The car. New clothes. Giant-ass TV. I wanted my own place—even if was only for the summer. Dumbass. I should’ve stayed home and worked on Tate, kept on his ass until he started making the right choices. The kid’s got talent, charisma, and athleticism. More than I ever had. Since I couldn’t figure out what the shit was going on with Janelle, I was going to get to the bottom of Tate and why he constantly chose to fuck up his own life.
I WOKE UP early, feeling like a total jitbag for bailing on Briggs. My legs and arms were sore from working out, but I decided to revel in the feeling of progress. I ran three very slow, embarrassingly slow, miles. Then, I came back and swam a few laps, hoping to clear my mind and figure out what in the world I was going to do with my life. When I got back in from the pool, I had seven texts.
LEO: Sorry Janelle. Have to cancel today. See you tomorrow. Pick you up around 12:00.
CHAR: What the FUCK! Just talked to Briggs! I’m on my way over. Bitch gonna kick ur ass.
JOCELYN: Briggs’ song to you is plastered all over everything. He is so hot. Who’s it gonna be?
BRIGGS: Whatever I did yesterday, I’m sorry.
BRIGGS: Can I see you today? I know its Clings day, but need to see you.
BRIGGS: Babe cant think about anything but u
I responded to each of them.
JANELLE: No problem, see you tomorrow. Everything okay? (To Leo)
JANELLE: Don’t come over. I’m fine. Talk later? (To Char)
JANELLE: Fuck if I know! FUUUUCCCCKKK!!! (To Jocelyn)
JANELLE: We’re good Briggs. We’ll talk soon. (To Briggs obviously)
I sat down to watch TV for a while, not knowing what I was going to do with my day since Leo cancelled on me, when there was a crazed, incessant knocking at my door. Lately, everyone had been barging in, so I didn’t know who could possibly be respectful and courteous enough to actually use proper unannounced drop-in etiquette, like knocking. Was there actually etiquette for someone who came by uninvited?
Opening the door, I was surprised and pleased to see Sarah. Sarah’s the best. Despite being a former student, she and I’d become rather close. I enjoyed her company, but mostly, I enjoyed her evolution. She was more evolved than anyone I’d ever met. Sarah was insightful, wise, and clearly more in touch with reality than the rest of the people I normally surrounded myself with. I hugged her immediately, telling her that she was just the remedy for my suck-assy day. Basically, Sarah was a sight for sore eyes.
“I’m glad you’re happy to see me,” she confessed, “because I need help. Advice. Anything. I’m freaking the fuck out.” Okay, now this wasn’t her typical demeanor. Sarah was being so girly.
“What’s going on? Sit down,” I said, directing her to the chair.
“Can’t sit. Losing my mind here,” she said, pacing back and forth.
“What? You’re killing me,” I pleaded. “Tell me.”
“Vivian!” she said, referring to her ex-girlfriend, the love of her life, the girl who shattered her heart.
“Okay. Vivian. What about her?” I asked.
“She’s here. In town. She just called me. She’s staying at the Super 8 Motel,” she explained. “Evidently, she’s staying in town until I agree to see her… to talk to her.”
“That doesn’t seem so bad,” I claimed.
“It is! It’s bad. Real bad,” she cried.
“But why? Maybe she came to her senses… maybe she wants—”
“Me! What if she wants me?” she sat, slumping in the chair, covering her face with her hands.
“Well, that’d be good, right?” I asked. Vivian and Sarah broke up, because Vivian was too terrified to come out to her parents, to let the world know about their relationship.
“I thought… but I don’t know,” she said. “I finally went out with Melissa, Jasper’s executive assistant.” I remembered that Jasper had wanted to fix Sarah up with Melissa. Sarah also worked for Jasper, but in a completely different division than Melissa. So according to Jasper, he was not breaking his own rule of “No Fraternizing Between Employees.”
“Okay—” I urged her to go on.
“Well, we went out. A lot. I like her. I really like her,” she said.
“That’s good. Just be honest with Vivian—”
“I can’t be honest with Vivian… I can’t… because… because… I’m still in love with her,” Sarah admitted.
And there you
have it ladies and gentlemen. The proverbial love triangle strikes again. I thought that gay relationships were above the ridiculousness of straight relationships and all the turmoil that came with opposite sex love affairs. Guess I was wrong. Sarah was torn between Vivian and Melissa. I was torn between Briggs and Leo. And society had a problem with all of it. Fuckers. Racist, homophobic, closed-minded fuckers.
“HERE’S WHAT WE’RE going to do,” Char instructed. “Call Vivian, tell her to meet you at Open Minds tonight. We’ll all go.” Char loved being in charge, figuring everyone else’s life out, especially if it meant she was going to get to go out.
Open Minds was the hippest gay bar in Cleveland. Char’d been dying to do something “gay” since I hooked up (a little) with Sarah. I knew she loved this excuse to go to Open Minds to open her mind and probably other things too, knowing her. The girl was crazy. Next month, she’d be begging to go to Liberal Liaisons, supposedly Cleveland’s only swingers’ club. Everyone should have a Char in her life, but you can’t take mine.
“But what if—”
“No. No. You’re not talking. You’re doing,” Char said, handing Sarah her iPhone from the coffee table.
“Now you… you’re going to tell Briggs about those bitches in the bathroom,” she commanded. “That was just fucking stupid to keep it from him—especially after he sang to you—sang!”
“Yeah Janelle, that was stupid. Why didn’t you just tell him then?” Sarah asked. I was surprised that Sarah was defending Briggs, trying to get me to talk to him, confide in him. Sarah was clearly and permanently on Leo’s side.
Reflecting back on it now, maybe I had screwed up. Why was life like that? Things always seemed murky and gray, but once you stepped back and truly looked at life, things became so much clearer, crystal clear actually.
First of all, I should’ve told those cunt-rocks to fuck the fuck off, walked out of the bathroom, and relayed the entire story to Briggs, not leaving him in the dark. But I didn’t, I did what I did, and now my girls were pissed at me for it. Shocker there, they were always pissed when I made my own fucked up decisions. I guess I need to start shedding some light on what happened in that fucked up bathroom.
I’d gone into the bathroom after having truly the best date I’d ever had in my life. Hands down, nothing had ever compared to my day and night with Briggs. It was perfection without being ostentatious and over the top. Briggs thought about what we’d like—not what a typical date should be. I liked that. I liked him. I more than liked him.
When he sang to me, I knew for certain that I more than “more than liked” him. (You can take the teacher out of the high school, but you can’t take the “high school” out of the teacher.) My heart fluttered as he sang. I watched him strum the guitar and never realized how turned on I could be by watching someone finger the strings of an instrument. Sexually, I wanted him. Emotionally, I had to have him. I’d always liked that Mr. Big song, but once Briggs started singing “To Be With You,” it was like I was hearing the lyrics for the first time. Briggs was publicly pleading with me to choose him. When I kissed him on stage, I knew then that I could kiss those same lips for the rest of my life. Honestly, I didn’t think about Leo much throughout the day.
When it was time to leave, I knew I wouldn’t last long without pouncing on him in the car—if we even made it to the car. I was “wearing my horns” as Char used to say. I decided to go to the bathroom to freshen up and get ready for round two for the day. I went to the restroom and when I came out of my stall, three college-aged girls were standing in front of the sink, blocking me from washing my hands.
“Excuse me,” I said, trying to squeeze between them.
One of the girls moved closer to me, cutting me off, preventing me from getting to the sink. I realized then that their tactics were intentional and their behavior was for my benefit and my benefit only.
I tried to conjure my “inner Char” and figure out what she’d do. I looked directly at the girl blocking me, puffed out my chest, and said, “May I please get to the sink to wash my hands?” Okay, so I was no Char. But didn’t everyone always say you should “kill them with kindness?”
“Awww fuck this,” one of the girls said. “Little white girl’s gonna be all polite and shit.”
The other girl said, “Bitch’s so puny, no meat on her,” and she actually poked my stomach. I tried to dodge her hand, but she still shoved her Lee Press-on fake nail into my ribs.
I decided to just use the hand sanitizer I had in my purse, giving up on actually washing my hands. I knew when to pick my fights, and this was certainly not one I was going to come close to winning. I started to walk to the door, when the third girl stood right in front of me.
“Who do you think you are walking away from us?” she asked. “Ya think you’re too good for us? Well, I got news for you, princess. You’re not woman enough for Briggs Alexander.”
“Yeah bitch, he’s gonna get sick of the little white girl and come back to where he belongs,” the first girl said, turning away from me and looking into the mirror. “And believe me, we’ll welcome him back in every way we can. We’ll all three welcome him. Because one skinny little white girl is certainly not gonna do it.” They all looked at me in disgust, focusing on the tears running down my cheeks.
“Oh look Lana, princess thought she had the fairy tale,” she said, laughing.
Lana (apparently) said, “Go find your white horse and your white prince, and stay the fuck out of our world. We got no room for you here.” All three of them high-fived as I walked out trying to hide the tears that were soaking my face. Briggs saw them anyway.
Maybe I’m naïve. Maybe I’m sheltered and guarded, but I didn’t think people cared about that stuff anymore. Who cared if I was white and Briggs was black? Weren’t we over all that racist bullshit? Wasn’t this the 21st century? Didn’t we as a society have more important things to worry about?
When I mentioned all of this to Sarah and Char, they just laughed at me—not much differently than the girls in the bathroom did. Apparently, I’ve been living under a rose-colored rock, pretending that it rained rainbows, fairies, and Osborne unicorns.
Sarah still had people who wouldn’t accept her, because she was gay. And now, now, I had to deal with people who refused to believe that white people and black people should be together. Char was right. We needed a girls’ night out. Badly. Open Minds was the perfect, per-fucked place for us.
“ALRIGHT BITCH, WHAT are you doing?” Char asked.
I looked at her, smiled, and said, “Shots,” as I licked the strange guy’s neck, poured salt on his neck, and placed the lemon in his mouth.
Char looked between the two of us, and then replied, “No, you’re not.” Then she licked his neck, did the shot, and sucked the lemon right out of his mouth. She looked at him and said, “Char. What’s your name?”
“Jenny,” she said smiling and winking at us. Holy fuck. He was a girl. Char smiled and pulled me away. I loved this place, so did she. Open Minds was definitely going to be our new favorite hang out. Jenny. That’s great.
“Listen up. Focus.” Char instructed. “Are you focused?”
I nodded. Granted, I was focusing on both of the Chars standing in front of me, but I focused nonetheless. Getting drunk sure cured a lot of my problems. I should probably drink more often. I should consider making a reservation at the nearest AA meeting. Do they take reservations? I definitely want a seat closest to the cookies and juice.
“Briggs is here,” she said.
“YAY! Where?” I could definitely use a little Briggs action right about now.
And some cookies.
Yes! Cookies and Briggs.
Brookies. Oh yum.
“As much as I love how much your face just lit up, you should also know that Leo is here too.”
Trying desperately to sober up, I said, “What? How?” I definitely needed to stop drinking. Alcohol surely wasn’t worth it. Cookies were worth it though. Chocolate chip cookies.
Ohhh peanut butter cookies with chocolate chips in them.
Char shook my shoulders, forcing me to concentrate. “Okay that would be my fault. I texted Briggs and told him that a horny, drunk Janelle was looking way hot tonight,” she confessed.
“I love that about you. You never wait around for me to pull my shit together. You always do it for me. You’re my own private shit compactor. Ewww… grossy… no… not a shit compactor.” I slurred, closing my eyes.
Char continued, holding my face to keep me focused. “Well, apparently, Sarah had the same idea… but she texted Leo.”
I looked around and started for the exit, but Char grabbed my arm. “You’re not going anywhere. There’s nowhere to go. I drove.”
Shit.
“Please just tell me that you have some cookies,” I begged. Char shook her head, confused and annoyed, and began leading the way to my cookie-less doom. “If you were any kind of friend, you’d have cookies for me, right now.”
This was just perfect. Whenever Leo and Briggs were together, things got complicated. Complicateder—not a word—but I didn’t give two cookie fucks. I knew this was not going to go well. So yeah, complicateder than ever before.
I walked over to where everyone was standing, and tapped Briggs and Leo on the shoulders. Briggs wasted no time turning me around and embracing me. As he hugged me, he lifted me up, hiking my dress up in back. I could feel the air on my ass, not caring who saw or who cared. Briggs smelled so good—but not like cookies.
Immediately, Leo pulled my dress back down and said, “Enough Alexander, this is not your night.”
Not letting me go, Briggs said, “You’re the dumb fuck who cancelled today. She’s free game.” Then, Briggs leaned down and kissed me softly on my lips. “Let’s dance.” But he does taste as good as cookies.