Capturing Jessica

by Jane Hardee

  Michael wondered if it was as obvious to Jess that she was being jealous and overprotective. Sure she was protective of all her friends and would do anything for them, but with Jess it was different, almost like she wanted to shield her from a world of unruly, sex-starved lesbians. It was almost…chauvinist. Jess could take care of herself, but that didn’t change the fact that Michael wanted to be near her side.

  Thinking back, she had felt protective of Jess since the day they met. The first day of seventh grade Michael had missed the bus home, enjoying walking, even in the heat of August. As she passed Mrs. Clark’s yard, she heard someone yelling from the other side of the hedges. She ducked down and approached the bushes. Michael peered around and noticed a girl standing against the brick wall of the house. Jackson and Jared Akers stood in front of her. She hated those guys. They picked on everyone, even though they got bullied themselves by the high-school kids. Shoulders squared, Michael strode over to Jackson, the older of the two, and crossed her arms. Michael had hit her adult height of five foot ten by the time she was twelve, and she towered over Jackson by at least two inches.

  “Get out of here, Shafer, this is none of your damn business,” Jackson said. “We’re just playing with the new girl, but the dumb bitch keeps screaming like a baby.” Michael never figured out if it was the fact that Jess looked so scared with tears streaming down her face or if it was the use of the word “bitch” that made her snap. Before another coherent thought entered her brain, she reared back and punched Jackson in the face. To this day, it was the best right cross she ever threw. She walked Jess home every day after that.

  “You could tell her, you know.” She was startled by Camille’s words, having been deep in thought.

  “What, so we could be another lesbian, friends-to-lovers casualty? No. She is my best friend. I wouldn’t ruin that for anything.”

  “Hey, we escaped that fate,” Camille said, referring to their romantic history.

  Michael smirked. “You weren’t that good in bed.”

  Camille threw a couch pillow at Michael’s face. “I can’t help it if you’re not my type.”

  “Now you tell me.”

  “Seriously, if you ever need to talk, I’m here. Any time. I can tell how hard this is.”

  Michael ran her hands through her hair. It was getting harder. Harder to ignore these feelings. Harder not to hate everyone who touched Jess. Harder not to pull Jess into her arms and kiss her senseless every time they were in the same room. And her smell. Either Michael’s sense of smell was getting better with age, or Jess’s scent was. It was the freshest, cleanest smell she had ever known. Jess never smelled fake or flowery. It was a simple smell that suited her. When Jess sat close to her, or leaned near her to tell her something, the scent invaded Michael’s brain and stayed with her for hours.

  Michael knew Camille meant well, but didn’t want to talk more about Jess. Instead she focused on one thing she could control. “Ready to see her?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Michael pinned back the tarp and unveiled her new sculpture. “It’s not quite done but will be by tomorrow.”

  “Wow. As long as being lovelorn doesn’t interfere with your ability to sculpt a pissed-off, sexy woman, your career sure isn’t in danger. If anything, I’d say it’s helping.” Camille winked. “She seems to be your muse.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  How could she have a closet full of clothes and nothing to wear? Jess scoffed at her reflection in the full-length mirror and tugged off the fourth pair of jeans she had tried. She threw them on the bed in the reject pile, getting larger by the minute. Looking in the mirror over her shoulder as she buttoned them, she settled on another pair of dark denim jeans. The promising tag read “Instantly Slims You.” Next she went into the bathroom, wearing only her jeans and bra, to finish her makeup. She loved this simple black lace bra. What a shame no one will see it. Shaking her head and dismissing the thought, she reached inside her makeup bag.

  As she carefully applied her mascara, she decided it was a good night to wear her mother’s pearls, given to her the day she left for college. Her mother loved their classic elegance and liked to remind Jess that pearls could be worn with either casual jeans or a cocktail dress. Jess missed having her mother’s advice. Beatrice Gable had been a strong role model, the most important person in her life. She died from a stroke during Jess’s junior year at Florida State University. It came as a sudden and unbelievable shock. Yet, the truth was, it happened exactly the way Beatrice would have wanted. She was never one to draw things out or beat around the bush.

  Jess, of course, was devastated. Besides her older sister Sara, her mother was her only family. All she could think about at the time was that her mother would never see her graduate or get married. She would never again have her mother’s shoulder to cry on, have her unconditional support. Later, she realized the tragedy was not hers alone. How young and healthy her mother had been and how much more she still had to offer the world. At fifty-two, she was nowhere near ready to “meet her maker,” as she used to say. For months Jess dragged though her days. She had never cried so many tears.

  Pulling on her shirt as she walked out of the bathroom, Jess wondered how she ever got through that year. Her heart warmed remembering how Michael had taken a week off from her own studies at SCAD to comfort and stay with her. If it wasn’t for Michael, Jess didn’t know if she could have survived her grief. Jess had always cherished their friendship, but it was during that difficult period that Michael became a vital part of her life. Michael made her remember that she had a home and that even though her mother was gone, she still had family, a family with Michael in Atlanta and with her sister, Sara, in New York. She wasn’t alone and still had people who cared for her. Michael helped Jess take comfort in knowing that she would always be loved. That fact was unshakeable.

  Jess glanced at the clock. 6:47. Crap. She was late for Stevie’s birthday party. Taking the top off her perfume, she sprayed her neck and wrists, hurried through the kitchen, searched for her keys, and tore down the hallway, struggling to put on her new black flats.

  *

  Nine’s Bar was never crowded on Friday nights. They usually had the best crowd on Wednesdays and Saturdays. If Michael was ever in the mood to meet a good-looking woman, she wouldn’t come on Friday, but tonight looked like a good crowd with quite a few patrons seated at the bar, as well as at the low, circular tables. The owner was a straight, older man who had some interesting ideas about what the décor of a gay bar should look like. There were the traditional promotional posters for drag performances stapled haphazardly to the wall, along with ads from Atlanta’s local LGBT newspaper. Twinkling Christmas lights hung from the ceiling and several stiletto heels on the bar read “tips” in sparkly letters. The top level served as more seating for the bar, and several wide steps lead to the lower level with more tables and mismatched chairs. The strange, iridescent lavender dance floor served as a stage on drag nights and a curtain led to the backstage area. Michael scanned the crowd looking for familiar faces and sauntered up to the bar and ordered a beer.

  “That’s three dollars, honey.” Robin set the bottle on the counter and winked.

  “Start me a tab.” Michael knew this was going to be a long night. She took a long pull from the bottle and noticed Morgan striding toward her with a half-empty drink in her hand.

  “Been here long?” Michael gestured to the open seat, and Morgan slid onto the stool next to where Michael was leaning.

  “My second drink already. Rough week. My brainless boss can’t understand that even though I have tits, I also manage to have a brain.”

  “Well, you know how…” Michael caught sight of Jess walking through the door. Her brown hair was cut into a bob style, but tonight it had long, gentle waves, and Michael wished she could run her hands through it. Jess smiled at the doorman as he checked her ID. She had a small barrette securing her long bangs and wore what Michael recognized as her mothe
r’s pearls. Her simple makeup emphasized her eyes. Michael moved her own eyes down Jess’s body. A fitted black shirt with some sort of frilly pink flower thing on the neckline accentuated her perfect breasts. And those jeans. Damn. Michael hadn’t ever seen Jess in those before. They hugged her curves in all the right places. Michael favored hips and thighs to any other part on a woman’s body, and those jeans reminded her why. Jess oozed femininity. She looked beautiful.

  “Hello?” Morgan waved a hand in front of Michael’s face. “You know how what?”

  Michael swatted at her hand playfully, relieved that Morgan had not noticed where her attention had been diverted. “Yeah, you know how some men are.”

  “It’s a man’s world,” Morgan said, sarcastically imitating a deep macho voice.

  Michael felt bad for Morgan. She had worked twice as hard in college as her male peers, and when she entered the workforce, she competed with them again for the same jobs. Now she had secured a position but still experienced discrimination.

  “Hey, there’s Jess.” Morgan jumped off her stool to greet her.

  As if I hadn’t noticed. After saying hello and giving Morgan a quick hug, Jess came closer. Michael tried not to gasp as Jess put her arms around her neck.

  Putting her mouth next to Michael’s ear to prevent Morgan from overhearing, Jess whispered, “Thank you for coming. I owe you.”

  Michael ached when Jess’s body pressed against hers. She put her hands on Jess’s shoulders to avoid grabbing her hips. “No problem.”

  Jess turned her attention to Morgan and asked how work was going. Michael wished she could slow her heartbeat and avoided making eye contact with Jess. This night was going to be endless.

  By the time Stevie and several of her friends arrived around eight, Michael was on her fourth beer. If she had to endure Stevie Balford, she was not going to do it sober.

  They made their way to a large corner booth that Stevie had reserved for the evening. Morgan trailed behind with Michael and didn’t seem excited about the evening either.

  “I wonder what bullshit we are going to have to listen to tonight,” Morgan said. She was not one of Stevie’s biggest fans, though Michael could never figure out why. A sexy butch was usually right up Morgan’s alley. Stevie was a strong, good-looking, successful lesbian who volunteered as a firefighter in her spare time. A real superwoman! She was charismatic and made people feel at ease when she spoke with them. All those were qualities Michael could find attractive in a woman, but not when paired with a humongous ego.

  What most bothered Michael was the predatory way Stevie looked at Jess. And the unwelcome flirting. At least, Michael thought it was unwelcome. They had never talked about it before, but Michael was almost positive Jess did not return Stevie’s affections. She rarely hung out with Stevie alone, and at times, Jess seemed uncomfortable with her. Why Stevie continued to try and impress her was beyond Michael. Probably can’t take the blow to her inflated ego.

  *

  The next few hours were tolerable enough. Jess positioned herself away from Stevie to try and deflect her flirting to other women at the table. It seemed to be working, and Jess spent much of the evening talking to Morgan and Michael, and enjoyed herself a lot more than she had expected. Conversation flowed between the three of them, and Stevie interjected only occasionally. Jess stopped after two cocktails, even though it was Friday. She knew Morgan had been drinking for some time, and she wanted to be able to drive her home.

  It was almost midnight when the DJ cut off the karaoke and cranked up the dance music. The thumping bass reverberated through Jess’s whole body, and she needed to have some fun. Jess put her hand on Michael’s wrist and shouted over the music, “Dance with me.”

  When Michael didn’t respond right away, Jess leaned closer and inhaled her perfume. Subtle and androgynous. Not unlike Michael herself. Jess glanced at the firm column of Michael’s neck. She remembered the trickling sweat she had seen on Thursday night. The skin looked so smooth, so touchable. A rush of heat flowed from where Jess’s fingers rested on Michael’s hand and made its way all the way to the pit of her stomach. She felt her face flush and she jerked her hand away. What is going on with you, Jess? Get it together.

  Michael leaned back. “I need another drink first.”

  “I second that!” Morgan pulled Michael out of the booth and tugged her toward the bar, leaving Stevie and Jess alone.

  Jess, disappointed, sat back against the booth and stirred her now melted ice with a straw. It wasn’t long before Stevie scooted closer to Jess.

  “Are you avoiding me? On my birthday?” Stevie crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow.

  “I just didn’t want to kill your game.” Jess eyed the younger women Stevie had invited, who were currently rubbing up on each other on the dance floor.

  “I only have eyes for you, my dear.” Stevie took Jess’s hand and brushed her lips across her knuckles. The gesture might have been sweet or even sexy coming from someone else, but Jess was tired of Stevie hitting on her. She knew that Stevie had bed partners she considered friends when their clothes were on, and from the flirting and innuendos, Jess gathered Stevie wanted to add her to that list. Jess knew some people, straight and gay, had friends they slept with, but Jess didn’t sleep with friends. Be real. You don’t really sleep with anyone.

  The unwanted attention was getting to the point of annoyance. Jess knew one of her biggest flaws was being too nice, but not accepting dates, cutting off hugs before they were too long, and not letting Stevie cuddle up to her at the movies should have been clear signs she wasn’t interested. If she was honest with herself, she would have to admit that her discomfort was the primary reason she had begged Michael to come tonight.

  “I know you’re not interested in me, Jess, but it’s my birthday.” Stevie stood and held out her hand. “Will you dance with me? Just as friends?”

  Jess didn’t quite know what to say. No matter how often she had told her, Stevie never seemed to understand or acknowledge that Jess was not interested in her that way. Was she now admitting that she understood there could be no sex in their future? Jess was sure it could be hard for someone as confident and self-assured as Stevie to accept rejection, but maybe she finally had. Jess was skeptical, but Stevie seemed sincere.

  “Well, it is your birthday.” Jess took her hand and led the way to the dance floor. She rested her arms lightly around Stevie’s neck, and Stevie placed her hands on her waist. Jess was pleased to think the two of them might be able to develop a friendship; after all, Stevie really was fun company and a hell of a dancer.

  Jess danced up a storm. She was out of breath by the time a slow number started, and they began to sway to the music. Stevie moved her hands up and down Jess’s back and looked into her eyes.

  “You know what I’d like for my birthday, Jess?” Stevie’s speech was slurred. She brought her hand up to caress Jess’s cheek with her fingertips and tightened the hand on her lower back.

  A ripple of apprehension grabbed at Jess as she realized Stevie was at it again. Had she not just told Jess she was okay with being friends? Jess didn’t want this to go any further. Why did she even agree to dance with Stevie?

  “What’s that, birthday girl?” Jess tried to sound teasing, but realized her tone sounded much more flirtatious than she had intended.

  Stevie lowered her lips and attempted to devour her mouth in a sloppy kiss. Jess pushed on Stevie’s chest in an attempt to free herself. She knew that Stevie was pretty drunk, so she was not as offended as she might have been under normal circumstances. And while Stevie could be an egomaniac, she would never in her right mind force herself on anyone.

  Stevie backed up, embarrassed. “Shit, I’m sorry. That was so stupid.”

  “It’s just…I mean I don’t…” Jess didn’t quite know what to say.

  “Don’t say anything. I am being a drunken ass. And out of line.” Stevie seemed genuinely apologetic. She stepped back and shoved her hands in the pockets of he
r jeans, looking anywhere but at Jess.

  “Yeah, it was.” Jess punched Stevie on the arm and smirked. “Don’t let it happen again.”

  After some of the awkwardness had worn off, she wished Stevie a happy birthday and went in search of Michael. She was ready to get the hell out of Nine’s.

  *

  After finishing another beer at the bar, Michael decided she had stayed long enough to satisfy her obligation to Jess. Looking at her bill, she realized she had drunk more than she thought. This fact was even more obvious once she stood up. Yeah, it was definitely time to go. Michael knew how to pace herself, but tonight all she could think about was drinking enough to forget how good Jess looked.

  Morgan was talking to a cute gay couple and waved when she realized Michael was about to leave. She waved in return and went in search of Jess to say good night, and to reluctantly wish Stevie a happy birthday.

  She rounded the corner of the bar and spotted Stevie and Jess in the corner of the dance floor near the stage. As she got closer, she noticed Stevie’s hand wandering down Jess’s back. She scolded herself for the surge of jealousy she felt. Jess could dance with whoever she wanted. After all, it was Stevie’s birthday. Why wouldn’t they be dancing together? They were friends.

  Michael held the wooden stair rail and navigated the wide steps to the dance floor. She paused at the bottom step when she noticed Jess’s hands were on Stevie’s chest, and Stevie’s tongue was in Jess’s mouth. Michael stood, shell-shocked. Her head began to spin. Had she been wrong? Did Jess have feelings for Stevie? Was this why she wanted Michael and Stevie to get to know each other? Because Jess and Stevie would soon be lovers? Lovers. She pictured them rolling around in bed and laughing and making love. Jess throwing her head back in delight as Stevie touched every inch of her body.

  Shoving a hand through her hair and taking a deep breath, Michael attempted to become calm. She could not remember the last time she had felt such turmoil; it felt as if she was on fire. Realizing her hands were shaking, Michael turned away. She had to get the sight of them out of her mind. She had to get away from Stevie. She had to get away from Jess. Now.