Not many students read the Chronicle, but the few that did must have told others. By the time she was in the middle of campus, Jamie was getting a lot of looks, and this time it wasn't her imagination. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and she was so angry with herself for putting herself into such a situation that she felt like running back home and staying inside for a week.
When she entered her classroom, the normal chatter died to a hush. Jamie was certain that people were talking about her, and she was sure of it when she saw one woman pass the editorial section to another. For a few moments, she felt the same sense of panic she'd felt when she and Ryan were being hounded by the media. Her heart was racing, feeling like it would burst from her chest. A glance at the clock showed that class wouldn't start for a couple of minutes, and she was torn between getting up and leaving or jumping out the window.
Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket, and she reached out with her shaking hand to open the cover. It was Ryan. Immediately, her heart started to slow, and she touched the answer button and held the phone to her ear. "Come get me," she whispered.
"Be right there," Ryan said.
"No," Jamie said with a little more volume. "I'm kidding … mostly."
"You don't need to put up with any shit today. You can just go home. I'm happy to come and get you, and I swear I'll pop the first person who stares at you."
"You'd better have your brass knuckles on," Jamie said. "I don't want you to bruise that pretty hand." She could almost hear Ryan's smile.
"Are you gonna be okay? Tell me the truth."
"Yeah, I am. Thanks for calling, baby. It always helps to know you're there for me."
"Always will be," Ryan said, her conviction sounding rock-solid.
"Gotta go," Jamie said. "My prof's here. I love you."
"Love you, too. Call me if you need me. Any time."
Jamie blew a quiet kiss into the phone then hung up, trying her best to listen to her professor. But the hour passed with little of the lecture getting into her head. Instead, she spent the time trying to tamp down the anger she felt at her father. Not just for the stand he'd taken, but for his getting into politics at all. She and Ryan would have still had more infamy than she'd ever wanted, but her being the daughter of a senator made the carjacking story last longer than it would have if she'd been an ordinary college student.
Even the divorce was now news because of Jim's position. Having a senator get divorced was a big deal in the entire state, not just the San Francisco legal community. By the time the class was over, the blonde was steaming-angry for herself and her lover and her mother.
She left the classroom building and tried to scamper to her next class as quickly as possible. From the corner of her eye, she saw a guy start to approach her. Though she walked even faster, he caught up with her.
"Hi," he said, smiling brightly.
A polite smile flitted across her lips, and she kept walking. The man touched her shoulder, and she ducked away, ready to slap him. But he was still smiling, and his friendliness finally penetrated her fog. "Yeah?"
"Thanks for the piece in the paper," he said. "It meant a lot to me."
"Oh." She looked at him for a moment, not sure how to respond. "You're welcome."
"That's all," he said. "I just wanted to say thanks." He smiled again and took off in the opposite direction. She stood there for a moment, then started to walk again. A group of women passed her, and one of them said, "No on 22!" as they walked on.
When she approached her next classroom building, her professor caught her eye and approached. "You did a great job on that opinion piece, Jamie. It must have been hard for you to do."
She nodded. "It was. I don't think it'll do any good, but I felt like I had to give it a try."
They got on the elevator together, and he said, "You don't always know what good you're doing. Sometimes you help people you aren't intending to reach. You just have to do your best."
"True," she said. "But I hope I can be just another anonymous student after this blows over. I never knew how nice it was to be ignored when I walk across campus."
"One of the little things you don't know you enjoy until it's taken away, huh?"
"Exactly," she said, smiling and feeling much better when they entered the room together.
Ryan was hurrying home from practice later that night, dreaming of spending the evening with Jamie. Her hunger for uninterrupted time with her partner was growing with each day. She'd never before craved the simple satisfaction of doing absolutely nothing with someone she loved, but she craved it like a powerful drug.
She was about halfway home when her cell phone rang. Expecting Jamie, she frowned when she saw "Vijay Khan" on the display. "Oh, fuck!" She said this aloud, startling a young mother taking her son for a walk. "I'm sorry," Ryan said as she rushed past them. She opened her phone and said, "Hi, Vijay."
"Where would you like to meet tonight? We didn't set a place when we spoke the other day."
"Uhm … I'd really like to meet another day, if that's possible."
He made a soft clicking sound with his tongue and said, "That's up to you. But I don't have another night free before your next progress meeting. Do you feel comfortable enough with your work to fly blind?"
"No, I guess I don't."
"I'd love to help you out, but I'm really overscheduled this month."
"Tell me about it," she grumbled. "I'll come to your apartment. What's your address again?"
He told her and she realized she was just two blocks away. "Wanna have dinner together? Maybe we can finish early."
"Sure. You wanna order in?"
"Yeah. Order me anything. I'm not picky."
"Thai okay?"
"Yep. Just order like three people are gonna eat."
Vijay laughed. "I've eaten with you before. I know the routine."
"See you in a few," Ryan said. She hung up and dialed her home, hoping that Jamie wasn't as disappointed as she was.
There were more points to cover than Ryan had planned on, and she didn't get home until ten o'clock. Jamie was in bed, reading from her econ text.
Ryan walked into the room and flicked the book with her finger. "Sleep aide?"
"It works when I'm sitting in class. I thought it would work here, too." She laid the book on her lap and opened her arms.
Ryan sat on the edge of the bed and nuzzled her face into her partner's neck. "I hate physics."
"Bad night?"
"Yeah." Ryan sat up and pushed her hair from her eyes. "Physics isn't my strongest point, and it's not Vijay's either. It takes us longer to get through those parts of the problems than either math or programming."
"Maybe you should have a physics advisor, too," Jamie said.
"All I need is another person to have to meet with. It's bad enough that I have to meet every week with Vijay and every month with my prof. I'll struggle through."
Jamie touched the blue tinged skin under Ryan's eyes. "You look beat."
"I am. But my mind is racing. We weren't really finished when we quit, and I can't stop thinking."
"Back rub?" She gently ran her fingers across Ryan's back.
"Nah. I'll go into my room and jot a few things down. If I can get these ideas out of my head I might be able to sleep."
"Mind if I don't wait up for you? Six o'clock comes awfully early."
"No, baby, you go to sleep. I know it's hard for you to get up for practice as it is."
Jamie stretched and yawned. "It is. I've never understood the appeal of playing golf when the grass is wet with dew."
Ryan gently played with Jamie's hair while gazing into her eyes. "You doing okay? You sounded pretty stressed today."
"I'm fine. I think this bout of fame is gonna be fleeting. It's not salacious enough to last long."
"Thank God for that. I didn't notice anyone paying attention to me today, so I must not have hit the radar."
Jamie smiled at her. She'd never been anywhere with Ryan that the majo
rity of people they encountered hadn't obviously or furtively checked her partner out. But Ryan was so used to people being intrigued by her physical presence that she didn't seem to notice it. Jamie wasn't sure what level of scrutiny would penetrate her lover's fog, but she was happy that today didn't reach that level. "I'm glad." She kissed Ryan tenderly, then wrapped her arms around her and held her for a few minutes, finding herself nearly lulled to sleep by her partner's strong, steady heartbeat.
"Come on, sleepy," Ryan said. She took the textbook away and fluffed up Jamie's pillows. "Time for Mr. Sandman to visit."
Jamie scooted down under the covers and puckered up for another kiss. Ryan bent down and they kissed softly until her back began to ache. "I love you."
"I love you, too, honey. Kiss me when you come to bed."
"I always do." Ryan blew her one last kiss and went into her room, grumbling to herself when she sat down at her computer and tried to organize the parade of numbers and formulas dancing in her head.
Part Nine
Ryan opened one eye when her watch alarm rang on Tuesday morning. The sky was a flat, dull gray, and she could see the trees moving briskly in the wind. Well, the weather matches my mood. She heard Jamie blowing her hair dry, and instead of joining her, went into Mia's bathroom. She was in a perfectly foul mood, and didn't want to have to talk to or be nice to her lover or anyone else.
She was still showering when Jamie poked her head in to say goodbye. Once Ryan was dressed, she had plenty of time to make coffee, but she dawdled a little, turning on the radio in the kitchen to hear the local commentators talk about the election. Every word she heard made her teeth clench, so she put on her slicker and grabbed her book bag. As soon as she left the house, she knew she was underdressed. It was only about forty degrees, and the wind was really whipping, making the fine drizzle feel like icy needles. Fuck it, she thought, even though it would have taken her mere seconds to go back in and get a warmer coat. She considered driving to therapy, but knew the traffic would be horrible. Taking her motorcycle flitted through her head, but Jamie hated it when she rode in the rain, so she dismissed that idea out of hand.
After wasting time and brooding about her options, she was running a little late and didn't have time to stop for coffee or food. She had to take two buses to get to her session, and by the time she arrived she was ready to take on all comers.
Ellen saw that the often reluctant young woman had something on her mind, and she began the session by asking, "Ryan, would you like to start?"
"Love to," she said, her expression grim. "I'm pissed as hell that I'm gonna have to spend the day waiting to see whether the citizens of my home state think I should have equal rights or not. What kind of country is this when we have popular elections to vote on who to let in and who to keep out of the party?"
"I assume you're talking about Proposition 22?"
Ryan gave her a blank stare, and the therapist said, "In case anyone doesn't know about it, there's a proposition on the ballot today to forbid the state from ever sanctioning same-sex marriage."
"Really?" Helen, one of the older women asked. "I didn't hear anything about that."
Ryan glared at her and snapped, "Well, you still get to vote. Just flip a coin in the booth. It's only my life."
The woman recoiled from the rebuke, staring at Ryan like she'd been slapped.
"I'm sure you didn't mean that like it sounded," Ellen said.
"No, of course I didn't," Ryan said. "I'm really sorry, Helen. I'm pissed off and I took it out on you. I'm … I'm sorry."
"That's okay," the woman said, looking very uncomfortable.
"Why's this such a big deal?" A new member, a thirty-something Japanese-American woman named Ei stared at Ryan. "You can still be in a relationship. There are churches that'll marry you."
"It's a big deal because it's wrong to discriminate against people for being who they are," Ryan said, her edge coming back.
"Nobody has to know you're gay. Try having the wrong skin color or an accent for a day, and then you'll know what it feels like to be a real minority."
Ellen stepped in immediately. "We're here to support each other, right? Getting into issues like this isn't very supportive. Ryan's feelings are perfectly justified, and that's what we should be concentrating on-not politics."
"Sorry," the woman said, not sounding sincere in the least.
Ryan didn't say anything else, and when Ellen tried to urge her to continue, she shook her head. "I'm done." She was, in fact, finished for the hour. She turned off the other voices in the room and thought of as many witty, vicious, cutting, incendiary things she could have-should have-said to her peer, wishing she'd had just one more swipe at her.
When the session was over, she stepped outside and saw that her nemesis was standing in the rain, seemingly waiting for Ryan to approach her. She took one step in her direction, then turned and went towards BART. Given the way she felt, she worried that she might actually take a punch at the woman, and she realized she couldn't let herself get that out of control. As she walked in the cold rain, she considered something her grandfather had once told her. They'd been talking about some restrictions the government was putting on commercial fishing vessels and how some of his fellow fishermen were taking it very hard.
"But aren't the rules the same for everyone?" she'd asked.
"Sure they are, love. But if you beat ten men with the same rod, some of them would say it felt like it was covered in lamb's wool, some would say it had been soaked in brine, and some would say it had razor-sharp barbs on it. Everyone sees the world, and his place in it, differently, even if they all have the same experience.
"Why were the men being hit?" she'd asked, missing the point at the time.
"Just a little story I made up. I only mean that some people always feel hurt, and others don't let hurt bother them in the same way. If you have a choice, I think it's better to feel like the world's on your side."
She smiled, amazed that she'd remembered the incident at all, much less on this dreary morning. I get it now, she thought. I'm gonna try to feel like this proposition's covered in lamb's wool. It still hurts to be beaten, but I don't have to make it worse for myself.
As soon as Mia woke on Tuesday, she started thinking of Jamie. For a change, she knew she was up earlier than her friend would be, so she turned on the news, trying to get some indication of how the pundits thought the vote would go. She was pretty sure the proposition would pass, but she hoped the vote was at least close.
At 8:00 a.m. California time, she dialed her friend's cell phone, catching her on her way to school. "Hi," she said when Jamie answered. "I've been thinking about you, and I just wanted to see how you are."
"Ooo, who's my best friend?"
"I am. And I know today's gonna be tough. Have you gotten much feedback on the article?"
"A little," Jamie said. "I was freaked at school yesterday, but I feel better today. No one said anything rude to me or anything, but I could tell people were talking about me again." She made a tsking sound. "Just like me to give people ammo as soon as they stop pointing at me when I walk across campus."
"You did the right thing, James. That's what counts."
"I know. At least I think I know. So what's up with you? How's married life?"
"This is like married life in a sorority house. We've got to get out of here as soon as possible. I can't tell you how awful this apartment is, James. I knew Jordy didn't care much about where she lived, but this is ridiculous!"
"What's so bad about it?"
"My list is so long I don't know where to start."
"What could be so bad? Is it really dirty?"
"No, it's not that. It's just so cheap," Mia said. "I mean that in every way. There's no insulation, so it's cold as hell even though it's only about forty degrees, and the walls are paper thin. The women next door can hear us breathing, much less making love. I feel like I did the first time I blew a guy in a dark room at the TKE house and found out th
at there were a bunch of guys hiding there, listening to us."
Jamie was absolutely silent for a minute. "Think about doing a lot of editing before you tell your children about your college years, okay?"
"I'll tell 'em I was home-schooled," Mia said. "The room is about the size of my bathroom at your house, and there's no closet."
"What do you mean? A room has to have a closet."
"None. Nada. Jordy thinks the third bedroom was designed for a small kid or an office. All I know is that I've got to fold all of my clothes and put them in plastic bins. It's like living in the Target kitchen organizer aisle."
"How … where … fuck!"
"Tell me about it. Hey, can you help me out? I wanna make a real meal for Jordy, and there's nothing here."
"Sure, I can give you a shopping list. Do you have a pen?"
"Yeah. Shoot."
"You should make something easy. How about spaghetti and meat sauce."
"Great. She loves spaghetti. What do I need?"
"Not much. Pasta, a can of whole tomatoes, some tomato paste, a little onion, garlic-"
"Back up," Mia said. "What kinda pot or pan do I use?"
"What do you have?"
"Nothing."
"What do you mean nothing? I thought the other women had lived there for a couple of years."
"They have. They've got nothing. Trust me. I have to buy plates and metal utensils, Jamie. All they have are paper plates and plastic forks."
"Jesus! They sound like guys!"
"They are," Mia said. "I've decided. Jocks are jocks whether they're women or men. They only care about their sport. Somebody else has to do everything for them. They eat at the training center because it's free, and they can't stand to wait to make a meal. Have I mentioned they're all cheap?"
"Yeah, I got that impression. Well, it's gonna cost you a little money, but I think I can give you a very bare-bones list of what you need to make very simple meals. The first thing you've got to do is find either a Costco, a Wal-Mart, or a Target."
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