Always Her (Lesbian Romance)

by Alexandra Delancey

  “So this girl is going to turn up on Saturday, right?” Tatiana said, through a mouthful of food. “I’ve booked the venue and the photographer, so if she bails, I won’t get the money back.”

  “She sounds keen, and she obviously needs the money. Like I said, I don’t know her at all. She doesn’t seem flaky though.”

  “Who is this girl?” Alyssa asked.

  “We were at high school together. I ran into her at DeeBee’s yesterday, and realized she’d be perfect for the shoot.”

  “You both grew up two states away, and ended up at the same college? That’s quite a coincidence.”

  “I know, right?”

  “Coincidences are puns of destiny.”

  “Who said that?”

  “If only I could remember.” Alyssa’s eyes became unfocused, as if she was sorting through a library of memories. She shook her head, abandoning the task. “So, is she hot?”

  “She’s straight.”

  “Ah,” they said together, and I smirked. To a bunch of hipster queer girls, I might as well have said ‘brutally ugly’. They lost interest fast.

  “Shame Christie couldn’t make it tonight,” Jess said, with her characteristic warmth.

  “Yeah it is,” Tatiana added. I glanced at her, trying to pick up on her tone. I sometimes suspected that she thought Christie was too much, but she’d never say so.

  “Mmm, she had to work at the bar,” I said.

  “She’s got a pretty good gig going there,” Alyssa said.

  “It’s a nice bar, but I get the impression all the guys in there want to do her, especially the manager.”

  “Depressingly predictable.”

  “It is.”

  Not two minutes after we’d finished eating and the air was thick with smoke. Figuring that I was probably getting high off the fumes, I caved and joined in with them.

  “Were you out of the closet at high school, Jack?” Jess asked.

  “Yup. I was never really in. In terms of knowing who I was, I had a really easy time of it. I went from playing softball with my shirt off to dating girls. I always had girlfriends actually, from way back in kindergarten.”

  “And your parents just accepted it?”

  “They’re hippies. They let me dress as a boy if I wanted, and have short hair. I never picked up any negative vibes from them when I went around kissing my girlfriends in the back yard, so it was normal to me, right from the start.”

  “And at school?”

  “The kids at elementary school didn’t seem to think anything of it. I was friends with girls and boys. I mainly played ball games with the boys, and jumped rope with the girls. Total gender stereotyping, but there you go. They took me as I was. Things were a little different at junior high. The boys don’t want to play sports with you when you’ve grown breasts, and there was a point, when I was about 13, when the boys started to overtake me. The slowest guy in my gang could suddenly outrun me, and they could throw so much further. That was a big shock to me, and it knocked my confidence a lot. It was one of the hardest times in my life, actually. I didn’t have a coming out as such, but I did have a big reality check, and I had to really think about my gender for the first time.”

  “Sounds traumatic,” Tatiana said.

  “It was. But because my parents were so great, I didn’t have to question myself, just the perceptions of the world around me.”

  “You never wondered if you should’ve been born a boy instead?”

  “Nope. I really didn’t. I knew I was a tomboyish girl who liked girls, and I was fine with that.”

  “And what was high school like?”

  “Generally fine. I’d dealt with things by then, so the occasional bitchy comment didn’t do me any damage. And again, people mainly accepted me. I think it’s because people aren’t threatened by my appearance.”

  “Yeah, you look like a pussy cat,” Tatiana said.

  “A cat that got the cream,” Alyssa said.

  “Ouch!” I frowned at her.

  “I’m only kidding, babe,” she said, but, from the acid in her voice, I knew it’d take a bit longer before I was forgiven. Her expression became thoughtful.

  “I realized I liked girls when I was about 15, and I started to fall in love with my best friend,” she said. “I never told her though, and there was no way I could come out of the closet at high school. Growing up in a small town in the Bible belt, I would’ve been lynched!”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I would’ve been a social outcast. I still haven’t told my parents, and I’m not in any hurry to.” Jess took a joint from Tatiana and had a long toke, blowing the smoke out elegantly.

  “I kissed plenty of girls at high school,” she said. “My school was pretty liberal, and everyone was into experimenting. But the first time I kissed a girl, it was different; nothing like with a guy. I had sex with a couple of guys when I was 16, 17, just to make sure I wasn’t bisexual, and, after that, it was girls all the way,” she finished, with a mischievous grin.

  “And you?” I said, inclining my head towards Tatiana.

  “I was seduced by an older woman when I was 15,” she said, and the rest of her sentence was drowned out by whoops.

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me, Tati?” I said.

  “She was the nanny to my younger brother. Her name was Anastasia. She was 30, and very beautiful. She was almost six foot tall, and very pale, with black hair, and eyes like a frozen Siberian lake. She was very sexually aggressive, and, if I wasn’t gay before, I knew I would be forever afterwards. She broke my heart, of course. I fell in love with her almost immediately, only to discover later on that she was having an affair with my father at the same time.”

  “Eww! That’s so gross!” three voices exclaimed in unison.

  “My only consolation is that he never found out. Although, I’m sure he’s often wondered why Anastasia disappeared one day, leaving her belongings behind, and was never seen again,” Tatiana said, her accent becoming more pronounced.

  “Now, why did I get a shiver down my spine when you said that?” Jess said. Tatiana raised her eyebrow.

  “No reason at all,” she said. We all laughed, and Alyssa caught my eye. There was always something a little inscrutable about Tatiana. Her father was a Russian diplomat, and we all suspected that she concealed a litany of secrets beneath her immaculate façade.

  “Hey, what time is it?” Alyssa said, a while later, rummaging for her phone beneath the sofa cushions. She retrieved it and groaned. “Time for me to do a convincing impression of a zombie and drag myself home.” I pulled my own phone out of my back pocket. “Shit! I need to get the last bus to Christie’s, or I’ll have a long walk.” Alyssa and I hurriedly said our goodbyes and strode off down the street.

  She had to pass my bus stop to get home, so we walked there together.

  “I so didn’t want to leave their cozy house, and now I’m freezing,” she said.

  “I’d offer you my jacket, but…”

  “I know, you’re too butch to wear one.”

  “Stop!” I swiped my hand at her. “Hey, c’mere.” I lifted my arm and put it around her shoulders. They felt slight and almost frail. She pressed close to me, shivering. “What is it?” I asked her.

  “I don’t know. Sometimes when you leave Jess and Tati’s house, and they seem so happy together and in love, it makes you feel empty and kind of sad, you know?”

  “Kind of, I guess.”

  “And then I get to thinking that maybe I’ll never have a real relationship, and I’ll always be the one walking out into the cold, with the happy couple waving me goodbye on the doorstep.”

  “Alyssa, you’re only 24, there’s plenty of time for you to meet the one, and have a lot of fun in the meantime.”

  “Oh, ignore me. I’m just stoned and exhausted.”

  “You’ve just got the single girl blues. Which is a good sign. It means that you’re at the stage where you feel ready to have a relationship.” We’d arriv
ed at the bus stop, and the digital display said the bus was three minutes away. I wrapped both my arms around her and hugged her tight. “Alyssa, you’re one of the smartest, most attractive, most easy-to-get-on-with people I’ve met. You’re never short of offers, and when the right person comes along, you’ll know it.” She looked up at me, tipping her head back to bridge our 6-inch height discrepancy.

  “Really?” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

  “Of course.” Without warning, she stretched up on tiptoes. As her lips made contact with mine, I pulled my head back.

  “Alyssa!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You know I’m with Christie.”

  “I do. I’m really sorry.” Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. She tucked her chin into her chest, jerked herself away from me, and walked away quickly. At the same time, the bus lurched up to the stop.

  “Alyssa, please don’t walk off like that!” I shouted. She lifted her hand in an it’s fine wave and kept walking. Reluctantly, I boarded the bus and took a seat at the back. I took my cell out and called her. I got voicemail. I typed out a message reiterating what a cool, beautiful person she was and that I was sorry I’d upset her.

  When I got to Christie’s place, her housemates let me in. She wasn’t back from work yet. I looked at my cell. There was no message from her. Grayness settling over my mood, I cleaned my teeth, climbed into her bed, and turned the lights off. Seconds later I was asleep.

  Chapter Four

  Elise

  I woke up angry on the day of the shoot. Angry at Jack for choosing to go to university here, when she could have gone anywhere, and angry with myself for agreeing to do the shoot, and giving myself a reason to see her again. I’d had a restless night, waking up often, kicking the bedclothes off, and pushing Jared away when he tried to snuggle up to me in his sleep. Worrying that the rough night might have affected my appearance, I got up and peered at my reflection in mirror in Jared’s dimly-lit room. My eyes didn’t seem to be puffy. I turned my head to the side and tried to see if the skin looked dark or sunken. It was a little, maybe. I examined my pores for blemishes, resisting the urge to involve my fingernails. Jared burst into the room.

  “What are you doing, babe?” he said, with a laugh.

  “I’m wishing I hadn’t agreed to do this stupid shoot!” I replied. “I’m starting to feel really uncomfortable about it.”

  “Hey, if someone offered me $300 to snap my mug, I’d be biting their hand off!” He squeezed my ass cheek as he walked past. I flinched inwardly, and I was angry at myself all over again. I’d almost got this being-with-a-guy thing worked out, but since I’d seen Jack, I couldn’t stand the thought of Jared touching me. I’d blamed it on my period, although it was still days away. “Good luck today,” he said. “You’ll be amazing. Just remember how beautiful you are, and you’ll be a natural in front of the camera.” He planted a kiss on top of my head and left with an armful of books, in the direction of the library.

  I showered and washed my hair. When I came back into the room, I looked at my figure anxiously in the mirror. Did they say the camera puts on 10 pounds or 20? I was happy with my body, liking the way that playing sports had sculpted and toned it, but I noticed that my super-skinny, starvation-diet friends looked better than me in photos. I didn’t mind Andie joking about my muscular calves, but what if they looked awful in the shoot? I picked up my phone to message Jack’s friend and warn her about my physique, before realizing how loserish I’d sound. I didn’t do anything with my hair, and I left my face bare, guessing they’d do my hair and make-up. I put on faded blue jeans and my favorite number 88 t-shirt, which was so old that little holes were appearing in the fabric here and there. Then I ate breakfast, brushed my teeth, slipped a pair of converse sneakers on, and used my phone to navigate myself to a warehouse, somewhere near the town’s old dockyards.

  Unit 3, New Row. I was definitely in the right place, according to the blue pointer on my screen anyway. The building in front of me seemed derelict. Metal sheets were nailed over the huge oblong windows, and the roof had partially fallen in. The whole area was barren, ugly buildings spaced along scrubby grass and fractured tarmac. With a keen breeze whistling past, making some metal object clang in the distance, I felt like I’d stumbled into some post-apocalyptic wasteland. The door to the building was also closed off, with some haphazardly-arranged wooden planks nailed across it. My reluctance to be there grew by the second. If I can’t find the place in five more minutes, I’m leaving, I muttered to myself. Maybe the entrance was around the other side, down an unappealing alleyway, littered with junk. I sighed loudly. Ok, here goes. I edged down it, sidestepping various types of human detritus – an abandoned armchair, a bedframe, plastic garbage bags, rotting newspapers. I rounded the corner and came smack into Jack.

  “Hey!” she said, with a big grin. “I was just looking for you. I only heard where the shoot was taking place last night, and I thought you might have trouble finding it, so I got here early to look out for you.” She looked great, in a tank top with a distressed skull design, and her hair just long enough to fall into her sparkling dark eyes. I was so surprised to see her that it took me a moment to put a reply together.

  “I did,” I said, rolling my eyes in the direction of the building. “It’s a pretty unusual location.”

  “Yeah,” she laughed. “It’s cheap, and the inside looks much better on camera than you might imagine. I’ll show you in. It’s just here.” She led me through rusty double doors at the back. Inside was a cavernous space with no natural light. It was very dim, except for a small platform, with a white backdrop and white overhead lights focused onto it. I gulped, my stomach churning.

  “I’m going to be on that stage?” I said.

  “Yup. But don’t worry. I’ve had my photos done before, and once you’re up there, the lights are so bright that all you can see is the photographer, so you start to think that it’s just the two of you there.”

  “I – I can’t imagine ever getting to that point,” I said.

  “You’ll feel different when you get your makeup done too. They cake so much on, you feel like you’re wearing a mask, and you can hide behind it. And if you’re still on edge after that, I’ve got something that’ll make you feel better,” she finished, with a wink.

  A tall, very elegant woman, with a pale blonde skullcap of hair strode towards me.

  “You must be Elise,” she said, extending a long-fingered hand. “I’m Tatiana.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, trying to hide a flutter of nerves. She had narrow, pale blue eyes, a brief, straight nose, and lips that gave new meaning to the cliché ‘bee-stung’. Her looks were so refined that I suddenly felt like a grubby, uncouth teenager next to her. She stared at my face and looked me up and down. I forced myself to stand still. She’s just checking that you have the right look for her clothes, I reminded myself. She caught something in my eye.

  “Sorry!” she said. “I was just deciding what I could put you in.”

  “That’s ok.”

  “You’ve got great skin. Now we’re going to ruin it with about an inch of greasepaint, I’m afraid,” she said, and laughed. “Come this way, and we’ll get your make-up done.” She took me over to a chair and mirror, and introduced me to the make up artist.

  An hour later, and Jack was right. I didn’t recognize myself. I had matte, plum-colored lips, and my eye make-up was one degree away from being goth. My hair was teased and backcombed, the kind of artful messiness I’d fantasized about, but never managed to cultivate. The girl looking back at me from the mirror was a rock chick. I smirked to myself, thinking how Andie and the others would react if they saw me.

  “Wow,” I said. “I love it!”

  “You look great!” Tatiana said, appearing behind me. “Now for clothes.” She led me to a corner, with two sheets strung up for privacy and gave me some things to put on.

  “Try to skip underwear if you can – it shows up r
eally badly on camera.” I climbed into a dark plaid miniskirt, with unusual pleating detail, and a high-necked blouse with frills and a big bow at the neck, along with pantyhose and heavy black boots. They were a couple of sizes too big, but I figured I wouldn’t be walking far in them. Tatiana fastened some heavy chain bracelets around my wrists, and gave me some quirky silver and black earrings. She stood back and looked at me.

  “Great. I think we’re good to go!”

  “I’m worried my calves are too big,” I confessed.

  “Not at all,” she said, with more warmth than I would’ve expected. “Just relax. If anything’s not right, we can fix it later. That’s what Photoshop’s for!”

  Jack appeared from nowhere.

  “I just need to borrow Elise for a second,” she said.

  “Five minutes,” Tatiana replied, with a playful arch of her eyebrow. Jack took me out to the front of the building.

  “How you doing?” she said. To be honest, I felt more nervous about being alone with her than about the shoot. My nerve endings were tingling all over my body, and my heart was beating way too fast.

  “Ok, I guess,” I said, forcing my face to relax into a smile.

  “I’ve got weed and a hip flask of rum. What’s your poison?” I laughed in surprise.

  “I don’t smoke,” I said. “But in the circumstances I guess I could relax my rule of no alcohol before 12.” I took the rum from her, unscrewed the cap and had a cautious sip. It was dark, and good quality. Jack took it from me.

  “I can’t let you drink alone,” she said and had a swig herself. She offered it to me again, and I pressed it to my lips, dizzy at the thought of putting my mouth where hers had been. I picked up the merest hint of salt as I took a longer swig, but maybe I’d imagined it.

  “Ok, I’m ready,” I said, grinning as the alcohol blossomed in my brain.

  As I walked onto the brightly-lit platform, I felt like I was in a dream. I moved my body as the photographer told me: “Put your hand on your hip; twist your body round to the left; look up at the ceiling; look angry; look like you’ve lost something. Look over there at Jack.” Jack was watching me? Oh my god! I’d assumed she’d gone to do something else. I frowned in the bright light. Where was she? She waved.