Seneca Falls

by Jesse J. Thoma

  Lately, she had taken to picking Seneca up at work. They would silently walk next to each other on the trip back to either of their houses, and somewhere along the way, their fingers would intertwine. Dylan knew other people noticed and she had been getting some odd stares and cryptic warnings from those around her, but she didn’t care. Holding hands with Seneca felt like the most wonderful achievement of her life. Although she was frustrated that they hadn’t really moved the physical part of their relationship along, she was willing to take things as slowly as Seneca wanted. The last thing she wanted to do was scare her away by moving too quickly.

  When the room grew silent and Dylan felt all eyes on her, she realized she had been caught in her daydream. Each expectant face was looking at her, probably expecting her to share some profound insight on their project. She had nothing. She wasn’t even sure what they had been talking about.

  “Uh, what—”

  She was saved from answering by the knock on her door. She put the binder down and flew to answer, glad for any excuse to avoid the awkward silence.

  When she pulled the door open, her knees went weak and the breath whooshed out of her in one quick, amazing exhale. Seneca was standing there, looking stunning in black nylon athletic pants and a crisp white T-shirt. Her hair was delightfully mussed, as only a good workout could produce, and her cheeks were red and glowing from the chilly night air.

  “Why don’t you have a jacket?” Dylan asked, before silently berating herself that that was the first thing out of her mouth. It wasn’t what she wanted to say, but what she wanted to say couldn’t be said with curious onlookers.

  Seneca was grinning and it was disarming. Dylan reached out a hand to softly stroke Seneca’s cold cheek.

  “Bob,” Seneca said quietly, her eyes tender and her face relaxed.

  Dylan stepped closer and wrapped her arms around Seneca’s neck. Their torsos weren’t touching, but the heat they were producing was enough to warm the air around them. They would have fogged up a pair of glasses, if either of them wore them.

  “You have company,” Seneca said, looking behind Dylan.

  Dylan didn’t even have to turn around to picture the scene of stunned faces and open-mouth gawking happening behind her.

  “I just wanted to see you for a minute. Call me when you’re done.”

  Dylan didn’t pull away. She pulled the door shut behind her without a backward glance, leaving her classmates to their gossip in her room, blind to the activities in the hall.

  “Is that the only reason you came over, wandering around in December without a jacket?” Dylan asked.

  “No,” Seneca said, looking like she was finding it hard to breathe with Dylan so close. I wanted to give you this.”

  She pulled Dylan to her and kissed her without hesitation, without holding anything back.

  Their first kiss had been magical and eye-opening, but this kiss put the previous one to shame.

  “That, my pirate queen, was a most amazing gift,” Dylan said, feeling a little wobbly in the knees.

  “Your pirate queen?” Seneca asked.

  “If you want to be, sweet girl,” Dylan said, holding Seneca even tighter.

  Seneca looked down at Dylan shyly. “I think I might.”

  Dylan didn’t say anything. She kissed Seneca on the nose, causing them both to laugh. She turned and laced her fingers through Seneca’s and gave her hand a tug.

  “You don’t have to leave, right?”

  Seneca looked down at their hands. “I like not being able to tell which are your fingers and which are mine,” she said.

  “Come inside,” Dylan said, pulling on their joined hand again. “Please?”

  “You have company.”

  Dylan didn’t think she really wanted to leave, but she did feel her hesitation. “We won’t be long. You can sit at my desk, or on the bed.”

  Dylan wasn’t sure what was scaring her so much. Dylan knew she was ready for anything the night brought, but she had a feeling Seneca wasn’t. The kiss had been a wonderful surprise, and now Dylan couldn’t seem to think of anything but getting Seneca’s lips against her own again. Her body had finally ignited, and what had been a slow burn was quickly turning into a full-blown fire. Imagining Seneca across the room, however small the dorm room, was excruciating. Envisioning her sitting across campus, out of Dylan’s sight and touching range, was beyond comprehension. It was hard getting Seneca’s foot off the brake pedal, and if there was a chance of getting her to relax, Dylan didn’t want to lose a second of momentum.

  Seneca smiled shyly and nodded. Spontaneously, she swept Dylan off her feet and lifted her off the ground so she could kiss her again.

  Dylan giggled and swung her legs in a mock effort to get free. Seneca laughed with her and gently set her down. Dylan grabbed her hand, opened her dorm door, and pulled Seneca into the room.

  The four women Dylan had shut out of their private moment instantly tried to look as if they hadn’t been straining to hear every word exchanged between Dylan and the campus outcast. The expressions ranged from forced disinterest to the look of someone whose hand got caught in the cookie jar.

  Dylan noticed the unusually calm demeanor of her classmates and stifled a chuckle. It wouldn’t do to rub in their faces that she had just kissed the most amazing woman on campus. She hurriedly introduced the four women, feeling it necessary to be polite. Seneca plopped down at the desk and muttered something about checking her e-mail and Dylan returned to her study group. She perched on the bed, amused that Seneca had avoided it like the plague. All she could think about was getting Seneca into it. For weeks now, she had wanted to speed up their courtship, and finally Seneca had come and literally swept her off her feet. Forget wooing, she would lose her mind if Seneca didn’t start acting like every other horny college student in a new relationship. She was tired of slow.

  *

  Seneca listened in amazement as Dylan’s dorm room filled with questions asked rapidly in French. She didn’t understand the questions, but from the fact that they seemed directed almost entirely at Dylan, who obviously refused to answer, and when she did, she sounded annoyed, Seneca guessed they were about her. She made a show of checking her e-mail and looking up an assignment online. She resisted the urge to turn around and watch the interrogation.

  She finally turned around when she heard Dylan’s exasperated sigh and her response to the last question. The four other women were still speaking in French, but Dylan answered them in English.

  “We’re done for the night. If you all want to talk about our assignment or the class, then feel free to set up camp in the dining room and I’ll be there in a minute. If you have other questions, don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”

  Seneca started to stand up and comfort her since she was so clearly agitated, but Dylan held up a hand to stop her. She seemed to be asking for the space to handle her classmates on her own. Seneca shrugged and wondered if any of the women had ever seen Dylan’s fiery side. She turned her attention back to the computer, content to let Dylan handle her own friends. It wasn’t like Seneca would have any idea what to do with them. Within two minutes, the room was silent, and everyone, including Dylan, had left.

  After closing down the computer, Seneca took some time to look around the small dorm room. As an upperclassman, Dylan had a single. The twin bed was neatly made and sat under the window. The small desk and dresser took up space on two of the other walls. Seneca’s eyes lit up when she saw the small television perched on top of the dresser, angled to face the bed.

  Not knowing how long Dylan was going to be gone, Seneca kicked off her shoes, grabbed the television remote, and settled on the bed. She had never owned a television, and the freedom to watch whatever stupid show caught her attention was strangely exciting. She settled on Mythbusters and was completely engrossed when Dylan opened the door and snuck back in.

  “Whatcha watching?” Dylan asked as she shed her sweatshirt and shoes and landed in the cha
ir in front of her computer.

  “Mythbusters. Have you ever seen this show?” Seneca asked, not able to drag her eyes away. “These crazy guys say they’re testing all these urban legends and myths, but secretly, I think they just like to blow stuff up.”

  “Thank you for staying,” Dylan said. “I’m really sorry about the French inquisition.”

  Seneca looked at Dylan and noticed the worry lines around her eyes and mouth. She could see she was embarrassed about her classmates’ behavior and her eyes still held some of the fire of earlier.

  Wanting to reassure her but not knowing how, Seneca reached her hand out toward Dylan, her long arms able to close most of the distance in the small space. Dylan moved the rest of the way and they linked fingers. Dylan looked down at their joined hands, and some of the worry left her face. Seneca thought maybe she would be okay at this after all.

  “Thank you for sticking up for me,” Seneca said sincerely. “I don’t really care what they say, but I’m sorry they interrogated you because of me. If we…you know…are a…well, you know—”

  “Couple?”

  “Right, that…if we are a couple, you’re probably going to get that a lot,” Seneca said, realizing once again the handicap she brought to any relationship.

  “Why don’t you let me decide whether you’re a burden, or a drag, or not worth the fuss?”

  Seneca looked at Dylan, shocked at how transparent she apparently was. “Bob, I’m not sure how I feel about dating a mind reader.”

  Dylan laughed long and hard. She scooted out of the chair and bumped Seneca out of the way on the bed with her hip, sitting down next to her. She rested her hand slowly on Seneca’s stomach. Seneca flinched like she always did, but then her muscles relaxed incrementally under her touch. Without moving her hand, she leaned down and kissed Seneca gently, and then less so.

  “I’m no mind reader. You don’t have to worry about that,” Dylan said, her mouth hovering inches above Seneca’s.

  Seneca lifted off the bed enough to close the distance between their lips and kissed Dylan soundly before pulling her down on top of her. She expertly flipped the curvaceous body and settled Dylan against her side, allowing the red hair to float across her chest while she held her.

  “Wanna watch Mythbusters with me?” Seneca asked in her most charming voice.

  “As long as that’s not all I get to do.”

  Seneca stiffened anxiously but tried hard to hide the reaction. This was one of the things she had been worried about. What would Dylan think when she saw her without clothes? She’d already seen the scar on her arm, but could she handle a body covered in them? This had been one hell of an emotional day.

  “What’s wrong, sweetie? I only meant I want to kiss you…a lot.”

  “Oh,” Seneca said, feeling like an ass for assuming Dylan might want more.

  Her body was betraying her once again, and as hard as she tried to push it aside, the past was invading her present. The women at the bar were easier because she didn’t care about them. Physically, she didn’t disappoint them, and emotions were never part of the bargain. Being with Dylan was completely different. Part of her wished she could call Kate and ask for advice, but she knew she was on her own.

  “Is that okay?” Dylan asked, sounding less confident.

  By way of answer, Seneca pulled Dylan against her and kissed her with every emotion she was too afraid to speak, and in most cases, too afraid to feel.

  When they pulled apart, each a little breathless, Seneca tried to explain. “I want to kiss you a lot too, Bob. I just don’t know that I can go any further tonight.” Honesty seemed like the only option. Dylan nodded, but Seneca could see she had questions.

  “Is kissing all we’re ever going to do, Seneca? Because I know you were sleeping with women you didn’t even know…and with me, it’s been forever and I can’t even get your hands to wander. I just need to know what I’m in for here and how you feel about me.”

  “Bob, I used to let women take me home from the bar because I needed someone to know I was alive. I wanted a bit of human connection, but that was all. They never got more of me than you do. They actually got less, a lot less. I was there, but not really. No kissing. I kept all my clothes on. Sometimes I didn’t even bother taking off my shoes. I can’t do that to you, but I don’t know how to do anything else. I just need a little time to figure it out.” Seneca saw the relief cross Dylan’s face. Maybe I’ll be okay at this relationship stuff after all.

  “Oh,” Dylan said, looking like she wasn’t sure what else to say. “Well, that’s okay then. I was worried you didn’t think I was―I know there are a lot of pretty women at that bar.”

  Seneca was horrified that Dylan had even considered that possibility. “Bob, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. I don’t know how to prove that to you, but I’ll think of something.” Can I? What if I can’t figure out how?

  “Will you stay?” Dylan asked. She looked as scared as the question made Seneca feel. “I just want you to hold me. It took me weeks to get you to kiss me again. I don’t want to let you walk out just yet.”

  Seneca blushed and started to apologize for her delay, but thought better of it and instead detoured to Dylan’s mouth.

  “Fair warning, it’s a small bed and I don’t plan on using more than half of it.”

  “I don’t know if you remember, but I happen to have the same bed. I don’t know how we’re both going to fit and only take up half of this thing. It’s not that big.”

  Dylan pulled the covers back and indicated Seneca should get in. “Lay down and I’ll show you.”

  “Bob, I’m still fully dressed.”

  “This first time, I’m letting you stay in your comfort zone. Next time, significantly less clothing.”

  “Whoa,” Seneca said under her breath, feeling heat pulsing through every part of her body. “At least let me take off my boots.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dylan came awake slowly in the darkness, her senses filled with unfamiliar stimuli. She realized first that someone was in her bed with her. A split second later, she felt her bed partner squirming, pushing her away, and whimpering. Sounds of pain and terror filled the room. As she woke more fully, she realized Seneca was in distress. She came fully awake and tried to figure out what to do.

  She placed a comforting hand on Seneca’s forehead in an effort to calm her, but Seneca reacted violently to the touch. She didn’t wake, but pulled away as if slapped and cried out louder in her sleep. She kicked, trying to propel herself away from Dylan’s hands. She was sweating, and her face was contorted grotesquely.

  Dylan sat up in bed and moved out of Seneca’s thrash zone. She wanted to know what Seneca was dreaming about and hold her until the nightmare went away, but she realized she would have to wake her before she could provide any comfort.

  With difficulty, she bit back a sob as Seneca started fighting an imaginary assailant, begging and pleading for her attacker to leave her alone. Seneca’s face was always expressive, but Dylan had never seen it so twisted in terror. She could feel the tension radiating off Seneca’s slim form in waves as she writhed, trapped in her nightmare. She was practically vibrating as she squirmed on the bed.

  When Seneca screamed, a sound filled with sheer, unadulterated agony, and reached for her injured leg, Dylan couldn’t sit, paralyzed by indecision and disbelief, any longer. Seneca was curled on her side, cradling her damaged thigh between her hands, still kicking with her uninjured leg. The pain she was experiencing seemed to have transcended the fear, as now her energy was solely focused on her thigh and a moaning request to be left alone.

  Dylan tried to make contact again, this time resting her hand on Seneca’s back. The T-shirt beneath her fingers was drenched in sweat. Seneca didn’t pull away this time. It was as if she were incapable of feeling anything but her cradled leg. Encouraged by the non-reaction, Dylan pulled Seneca to her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. She kissed her temple, rubbed her bac
k, and quietly begged her to wake up.

  “It’s okay, sweetie. Wake up. It’s just a dream.” Dylan rocked their joined bodies back and forth. “Wake up, my pirate queen. Wake up. Please wake up.”

  Eventually, Seneca’s body tension eased and her breathing signaled she was waking. Dylan held her more tightly and resumed her gentle kisses.

  “Please stop,” Seneca said, her voice hoarse and pain filled. “Shannon, stop. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Dylan froze. Gut wrenching, agonizing, unidentifiable emotion ripped through her system before she was able to quell it. She had no idea who Shannon was, but if she had ever held Seneca this way, or if she was the one who caused the nightmares, Dylan hated her.

  “Shannon’s not here, Seneca. It’s me. It’s Dylan.”

  She comforted herself by thinking Seneca didn’t sound particularly happy with the idea that Shannon was the one holding her now. However irrational, she didn’t want another woman, even one from Seneca’s past, interfering with their present.

  “Bob?” Seneca asked, opening her eyes and taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.

  Seneca groaned, looking sad, ashamed, and angry. She let her damaged leg stretch free of her grasp and tentatively put a hand over Dylan’s, which were still wrapped around her middle.

  Seneca struggled to pull free of Dylan’s hold, but Dylan held tighter. She expected Seneca’s withdrawal.

  “Bob, please, just let me go.”

  “No,” Dylan said emphatically, although she loosened her hold around Seneca’s middle.

  “You have to. Don’t you see now why you have to?” Seneca asked, her voice wild, desperate.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “I’m no good for you. Just let me go. It’s better this way. We can’t do this. I can’t do this,” she said. Seneca looked so defeated, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. “What would happen if we were at your parents’ house and I did this? Or we were at a fancy business retreat of yours?”