Girl Crush

by Stephie Walls

  “It’s sex, not rocket science. And you’ve totally canned her. I know you, Giselle. She tried to move to second base, and you shut her down. Whatever your reason, she got friend-zoned last night. So, who’s next?”

  “Did your mother deprive you of oxygen as a baby?”

  “No, but clearly yours did. Who’s next?”

  “Roxie.”

  “What’s a Roxie?”

  For being so well-rounded, my best friend could be a total moron. “Seriously?”

  “Fine, tell me about Roxie. Does she know you’re a hetero parading around as a lesbian wannabe? Or better yet, that you get a lady boner for cars?”

  “I hate you.” I didn’t really.

  “You love me.”

  We closed down The Watering Hole talking about all the possibilities in my dating game. She’d never admit it, but I think Veronica might have been a tad jealous that I was out playing in her field while she was chained up in her dugout at home. I didn’t know how she’d managed to get away tonight, but I was fairly certain Trish would have her in shackles again by morning. This seemed to be their thing. Veronica needed pizzazz in her relationships, and they’d been together so long they’d lost the Zs at the end and just had pizza. No one else could put up with her, but Trish could be a lot to handle, too. Having a best friend who was gay when I wasn’t led to its own problems when they were dating. It led to even more when I decided I wanted to switch teams.

  Trish and I had a love-hate relationship. Mostly, she just loved to hate me because she believed I caused every one of her fights with Veronica. Somehow, I swiped V’s credit card for that six-hundred-dollar pair of shoes. And it was me who had her flirting with the bartender at The Watering Hole to get free drinks. And I was the cause of Ronnie always breaking curfew. Well, that last one was me—but that wasn’t the point. I was here before Trish, and I’d be here after. And I was almost certain there would be an after. So I opted to ignore her tirades and pretended they were shouts of love…for me. I’d bought her a cheerleader costume for Christmas one year—she didn’t get the insinuation…or insult, and I didn’t give a shit.

  Ronnie and I were wild cards. We had been since birth. It’s what made us the dynamic duo we’d become known for. Our reputation reached far and wide. Well, at least in this county, because we’d both been here our entire lives.

  “So, Roxie?”

  We were standing outside in the parking lot. All the employees had gone home, and we hung out under the one light still on overhead. It dawned on me this might not be the safest place for us to congregate, but I also knew once Ronnie left, she might be on lockdown for a couple days. It was tough to be single in a life filled with couples.

  “Yeah. I don’t know. We’ll see. She seems nice enough. And girls seem to really dig this whole naïve gig I have going. Maybe it’s the intrigue of innocence. Who would have thought women in their thirties would want to teach an old dog new tricks?”

  “Meh. I can see its merit. If I didn’t have Trish, I wouldn’t mind taking a newbie and teaching her what I liked and how I liked it. But women new to the lifestyle are a risk to those of us who truly are lesbians.” She said the last three words like they held weight.

  “You’re not better than me just because you’ve been gay longer.”

  “No, I’m better than you because I am gay. You’re just a poser.”

  “My coming to the realization later in life doesn’t make you any more gay than I am.”

  “Yes, it absolutely does…because you don’t realize you’re gay, Gizzy. You like dick. Lots of it. What you don’t like are the assholes attached to the pole. But you very much like penis.”

  “Po-tay-toe, po-tot-toe. The fact is they come as a package. And without a muzzle, I can’t deal anymore. I’ll learn to love snatch. Plus, there’s always strap-ons.”

  She brushed me off and changed the subject. “So you’ll call me to let me know how things go with Roxie?”

  “Sure, but I have coffee with Beck first. You interested in the details of that soiree, too?”

  “Nope. Beck is a done deal. Move on.”

  I hugged my friend and then we both got into our respective cars. When I pulled my phone from the cup holder to check my messages, I retrieved five missed texts from none other than Beck herself.

  Instead of texting her back, I opted to call and drive at the same time.

  She answered on the first ring. In tears. “Hello?” She sounded pitiful. My guess was she’d had a run-in with her asshole brother. Maybe now she’d understand my reason for ditching men.

  “Hey, Beck. What’s wrong?”

  “Can you come over?”

  I glanced at the clock. It was midnight, and I had to be at work at nine in the morning, but my alarm clock would go off at six to run the daily five miles. I could skip my morning stop at Starbucks on my way into the office and get an extra thirty minutes of sleep. “Yeah, I can stop by. I’m down off Fifth Street, so it’ll take me about ten minutes to get there. Are you all right?”

  “I just need someone to talk to.” She sniffled into the receiver as if to make her point more valid. I’d already agreed to come; she didn’t have to slather on the pity party.

  “Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

  Ten minutes later, I pulled in behind the same red Porsche I’d ogled the last time I was here. I gave myself a mental pat on the back. This guy must be a real tool if he made his sister cry. When I got out of the car, I glanced down at my skintight, gray Army T-shirt, boyfriend jeans that hung on my hips, and black Chucks. My hair was in a messy bun, and I had forgone freshening my makeup after work since I was just meeting Ronnie. Oh well, I guessed she was going to see it sooner or later. I can’t be on all the time…and I’d seen her ass stuck to a couch…literally. I’d say we were even.

  When I knocked, I was shocked to see the same guy I’d met in the driveway greeting me at the door. My back stiffened, preparing for his attack, but instead, the same mint-green eyes I’d admired on his sister softened, and his shoulders slumped. “Thank God. Maybe you can talk some sense into her.” He opened the door and gestured me in.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Fuck no. Bitches are bad enough when they’re with men. Couple them with another woman, and it’s emotional overload of the worst kind. She’s upstairs.”

  When I didn’t move, he stared at me for a split second too long. He clearly didn’t understand I didn’t know where “upstairs” was. But before I could point that out, his eyes stared into mine and then slowly caressed my body from tip to toe, lingering on my breasts before he admired my legs, and then returned to my face.

  I cocked my head as though to ask if he’d just checked me out and furrowed my brow playfully. With squinted lids, I acknowledged the gesture without verbalizing it. “Mind telling me where ‘upstairs’ would be? This place is rather large, and we didn’t make it past the living room when I was here last.”

  “Great. Guess I need to have that sanitized the next time the maid’s here.” He shook his head and quickly blew me off. As quickly as his appeal came, it vanished the way all males’ did when they spoke. He pointed down a hall. “Go all the way to the end. There’s a back staircase that will take you straight to her room.”

  The sleeve of his shirt pulled tight against his bicep as he raised his hand to his dark hair and ran his fingers through it. If I were still into men, the way his muscles contracted would totally have melted my insides and soaked my panties. But since I was on to vag, I quieted my inner whore in favor of finding his sister.

  I set off in the direction he’d pointed, but I could feel his stare on my back, watching my ass as I emphasized the sway in my hips with each step I took. When I was sure he could no longer see me, I relaxed my posture and took in the countless doors that opened to bedrooms, bathrooms, a study, and what looked like a gym before I reached the base of the stairs. As I hiked up toward Beck, it crossed my mind that I was heading up to what would have been servants’ quart
ers on the back side of the house if this place had a staff. There was an outside entrance at the rear of the house to the right of the staircase, and at the top, there were two rooms. Both doors stood open, so Beck was easy to find, but it was odd she’d secluded herself in these meager accommodations when there must’ve been ten thousand feet of house she could have picked from.

  The instant she saw me, Beck stood and came toward me, and threw herself into my arms. “Thank you for coming.” So, men were pricks, and women were a little dramatic—it seemed both genders had their drawbacks.

  “Yeah, no problem.” I hugged her and let her cry on my shoulder for far too long before I pushed her back to see why her face was puffy and swollen. “What’s wrong? Collier being an ass?”

  “What? Oh, no. He’s fine.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  I spent the next three hours listening to Beck’s female problems. I knew she’d recently broken up with her girlfriend, Stella, but she’d downplayed the seriousness and extent of their relationship. A lot. I had no idea they’d been seeing each other for four years. Nor did I know they’d lived together for three of those years. Stella had kicked Beck to the curb when Beck refused to quit living like a teenager and actually expected her to contribute to the household bills. Of course, that was my version of events—that certainly wasn’t how Beck presented her account.

  “Wait, so this isn’t your house?”

  She laughed through her tears and tossed herself back onto the bed. “God, no. Are you kidding? Collier is just letting me crash here until I get back on my feet. I could never afford to live in a place like this, much less own it.”

  Jesus. I hadn’t had this conversation since I was twenty, and even then, I’d been irritated by the damsel-in-distress calls I’d gotten from my friends. This chick was approaching forty and still hadn’t gotten her shit together. No wonder she was downing Ben & Jerry’s naked on a couch. Fuck, if this were my life, I’d be elbow-deep in a pint of Half Baked or The Tonight Dough.

  “Maybe she has a point, Beck.”

  Taking Stella’s side was the wrong approach. I didn’t know this girl, but I didn’t deal well with ignorant females who thought the world owed them something—men either for that matter. I didn’t discriminate on this topic. My job wasn’t anything to shout from the rooftops, but it paid the bills, and I took care of myself. I lived within my means.

  “You don’t understand, Giselle. I’m not made like that.”

  “Like what? To be a partner?”

  She cut her eyes at me, likely regretting her decision to call me for backup.

  “I’m not trying to be a bitch. Clearly, I have my own relationship issues. But if you don’t want to be part of a cohesive pair, then let her go. There are tons of women out there looking for someone to adorn their arm.”

  “Just not you?”

  “Wait. I thought we were talking about you and Stella.”

  Her features softened, and she shrugged her shoulders. “I just thought maybe you’d want to take care of someone. And in return, let them take care of you.” She raised her brows in a motion that almost asked a question.

  I let out a sigh and leaned back on the headboard next to Beck. “You realize I’ve never even made it to second base with a female, right? And the last five years of my life with men have been nothing but bootie calls. I don’t do relationships. I tried it—it failed. One marriage was enough to prove to me men can’t be faithful. I wish I had answers, but the truth is, I don’t know what I want these days, much less how to satisfy someone else.”

  “So you were just fucking with my head?” There wasn’t enough oomph in her words to turn this into an argument. She sounded defeated more than anything.

  I picked at the pillow now sitting in my lap. My voice was low and soft. I liked Beck, but Ronnie was right. I’d friend-zoned her. “No. And I was honest with you about never having done any of this before. I haven’t led you on, Beck. Hell, we’ve only hung out twice. Most of our conversations have been via text or on the phone. But if you’re looking for another woman to take care of you, you might want to reevaluate what you’re willing to give to get that.”

  Together we hatched a plan. A blueprint of sorts. Beck just needed guidance. I never would have thought anyone would take advice from me, but here we sat. She’d been taken care of her entire life. When her parents died in her early twenties, she quickly blew through her inheritance because she hadn’t learned jackshit about how to take care of herself. Collier was an anomaly, but I didn’t ask how he’d fared so well. All I knew was he couldn’t be half bad if he took his sister in and had made sure she was taken care of for nearly twenty years.

  “So, I just strolled up to your brother’s house after midnight and knocked on the door?” It hit me like a ton of bricks. I hadn’t even been nice to the guy. If anything, I’d acted just like his sister. Fuck.

  She waved me off. “He doesn’t care. You got me to stop crying, and he got to stop listening.”

  I yawned for the twelfth time in ten minutes. I couldn’t stay awake much longer. “You good?”

  “Yeah.” She looked over at me with a gentle smile, but this one wasn’t filled with lust. Somewhere in those gorgeous, green eyes hung gratitude. “You want me to walk you down?”

  I patted her on the leg. “Nah. It’s okay. I’ll let myself out. Call me tomorrow after you talk to Stella and let me know how it went. You can fix this if you want. Just give her some time.”

  I closed her door behind me and softly padded down the back stairs, passed the unused bedrooms, bathrooms, office, and gym, and back to the foyer. Two steps before I reached the door, Collier stopped me.

  “You going to be okay to drive home? I can take you.” Sleep deprivation wasn’t good for me. This guy actually seemed likable, which was a far cry from the asshat I’d met in the driveway.

  “As much as I’d love to drive your 911, I’ll be fine.”

  His laugh bounced off the walls, creating a symphony of sound. “Never gonna happen.”

  “We’ll see.” My bravado shocked even me. It was way too late for arrogance, and I’d given up men. This was starting to feel more like Lent than a lifestyle. “Goodnight, Collier.”

  “West.”

  “Huh?” It was three in the morning, and I was confused.

  “My friends call me by my last name. West.”

  I bobbed my head in understanding, and he opened the door. I ducked under his arm. And, with a wiggle of my fingers over my right shoulder, I waved goodbye. He watched from the doorway and smiled when my Camaro roared to life. It wasn’t a 911, but she was still respectable.

  My life couldn’t get any more high school. Coffee with Beck turned into coffee with Beck and a newly reunited Stella. Her girlfriend stared me down like I was the devil incarnate until she realized I wasn’t as gay as she’d originally thought…and that I hadn’t laid a finger on her lover. Beck started to feel more like a little sister, even though she was technically three months older than I was, and Stella was pretty chill once she took her knife out of my back. After two cups of espresso, I was bouncing off walls but seemed to have permission to continue hanging out with Beck. They’d agreed she would stay at Collier’s house until they were sure they’d worked out the kinks…which included Beck getting a job and holding onto it for ninety days. I wondered if she had run that plan by Collier before agreeing to it or just assumed he’d be down for her becoming a permanent fixture in his home.

  I put the top down on the convertible and dialed my bestie, whose other half answered the phone. Jesus, today was not my day. “Giselle.”

  “Hey, Trish. Can Veronica come to the phone?” I shouldn’t have messed with her. I knew better. But I’d had my fill of overprotective women. I wasn’t interested in fucking my best friend, and if I had been, Trish never would have met her.

  “You know, you could be a little more respectful.”

  “And you could be a little less domineering. If you don’t want
to talk to me, then don’t answer Ronnie’s phone.”

  “Or you could stop calling.”

  “And you could go to hell, but beggars can’t be choosers. So how about you put her on the phone, huh?”

  Just before Trish erupted in my ear, I heard the sound of muffled arguments in the background and knew Ronnie had intercepted the phone.

  “Seriously, Giselle. Could you please not piss off my girlfriend every time you call?”

  “What? Are you kidding me? If I wanted to talk to her, I’d call your house. I call your cell because it’s your cell. Why the fuck does she answer it anyway? It’s like she wants to make sure I know she disapproves of my calling.”

  There was silence on the other end that went on longer than it should. I glanced down at the screen to see if she’d hung up, but the timer just kept ticking away. When she finally came back on the line, the background noise was gone.

  “Shit. Sorry about that. I had to step outside to get away from Trish.”

  “What the hell is going on with you anyway?”

  “I don’t know. Ever since I told her you were chasing skirts, she’s been all in a tizzy about how much time I spend with you.”

  Only Ronnie would have told her girlfriend that her best friend decided to give coochie a sampling. “So you created this issue?”

  “Shut up. She’ll chill out when it dawns on her you can’t decide to be gay.”

  “We’re back to that, are we?” I tried to lighten the conversation, but I wasn’t sure she bought it. “Would it help if we all got together so she could hear my horror stories of entering the lesbian community?”

  “What now? I didn’t think you were meeting Roxie until tomorrow.”

  “I’m not. Beck and Stella happened.”

  “Who’s Stella?”

  I filled her in on the drama surrounding my first non-girlfriend relationship, and that I now had a new playmate…it just wasn’t sexual. “Her brother offered to let me drive his car home.”

  “What world do you live in? Let me guess, he asked if you needed a lift?”

  “Again with the semantics. You hear what you want. I heard I could drive the 911.”