by Nell Stark
Just as she had so many months ago, she sat motionless behind the wheel for several minutes before getting out of the car. This time, Corrie had no idea that she was coming. Sarah hadn’t even brought a toothbrush. She was counting heavily on Corrie and Quinn’s benevolence, because there was no way that she could stay in her dorm room for the last few weeks of the semester. She didn’t trust herself to do the right thing anymore—not when it had become clear that her self-control was in tatters around Rory. I’ll go back and get my stuff sometime while she’s in class.
Squaring her shoulders, she gritted her teeth and rang the doorbell. Corrie opened the door after a few seconds. Her hair was back in a ponytail, and her left hand was curled around Frog’s collar to keep him from lunging forward.
“Storm, hey,” she said, frowning in surprise. “What’s up? Is everything all right?”
Sarah shook her head. “No. Not really.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t want to ask you this, because you both have already given me more than I can ever repay. But—”
“Come inside,” Corrie said, cutting her off. “For as long as you need.”
Relief began to melt the cold pit that had formed deep in Sarah’s stomach. She smiled wanly and followed Corrie into the foyer, patting Frog as she went. They ended up in the den, where Quinn was sitting on the love seat, balancing a book on her knees. The television was on in the background, tuned to one of the local news channels. The anchorwoman was talking about the election.
Quinn looked up with a warm smile for Corrie, which changed into an expression of concern when she saw Sarah. “Sarah? What happened?”
Sarah shook her head, tears clogging her throat at their generosity. “Can I save it for tomorrow?” she managed.
“Of course.” Quinn set her book aside, got to her feet, and gave Sarah a long hug. “It’s good to see you.”
“You look exhausted,” Corrie said. “Go get some rest, okay?”
“Okay. And thank you. So much.” Sarah gave them both a little wave and then headed up the stairs. She paused in the bathroom off the hallway to splash some water on her face and then went into the guest room. It was exactly as she remembered it.
She took off her clothes, hung them over the back of a chair, and burrowed under the blankets. She wished it were warm enough outside to open the window and fall asleep to the sounds of the tide, like she had during the summer.
Sarah closed her eyes and tried to relax, willing the tension to fade from her shoulders and back. She tried mentally reciting the periodic table of elements. She tried revisiting happy memories. But no matter what trick she used, her mind returned to the image of Rory, naked, watching through hazy eyes as Sarah stroked her toward ecstasy.
Sarah rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow. What was Rory doing now? Had she fallen asleep? Or was she still awake, too—playing video games or surfing the Web? The pit in Sarah’s gut returned full force, aching with the intensity of how much she missed her.
Turning her head to one side, she sighed heavily and tried to get comfortable. She focused on the light background noise filtering up from downstairs, but that didn’t help, either. The sounds of the news were nothing like the muffled bursts of Rory’s video games. And Corrie and Quinn’s voices were nothing like the soft sounds of Rory’s even breaths.
Can’t live with her, can’t live without her. Sarah flipped onto her back again and stared up at the shadowed ceiling. What am I supposed to do?
*
Sarah woke to the smell of waffles. She was disoriented for a moment, until yesterday’s events came crashing back into her immediate memory. The vote. Rory. She stared at the ceiling, wishing that it were possible to go back to those precious seconds just before full consciousness, when everything hadn’t been completely screwed up.
Sighing, she looked over at the nightstand, checking her watch. Nine o’clock. So much for making it to Chemistry.
She rolled out of bed, slipped into her clothes, and headed downstairs. There was no use in lying around. Today was going to be a wash as far as classes went, but there was plenty of other stuff to do. Including returning to the FRI office to do some debriefing on the election. Great. That should be cheery.
“’Morning,” Corrie called from the kitchen. “What do you want on your waffle? Syrup? Strawberries? Whipped cream?”
Sarah walked in and took a seat at one of the stools surrounding the island. She smiled at the sight of Corrie spooning batter into a large Belgian waffle maker. “Strawberries and whipped cream sound great. Thanks.”
“A woman after my own heart,” Corrie said. “Quinn’s a traditionalist. She only does syrup.”
“Where is she?”
“She had to go in early.” Corrie closed the lid and the batter sizzled. When Rogue brushed up against Sarah’s foot, Sarah reached down to stroke the cat’s silky coat.
“Have you been on the water yet this year?”
“Hell, yeah.” Corrie looked out toward the ocean. “I started going out in March.” She turned her gaze back to Sarah and quirked a grin. “Let’s sail together sometime. If you think you still remember how to crew, that is.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Just for that, you have to let me skipper.”
Corrie laughed. “Fair enough.” She opened the lid. “Breakfast’s ready.”
A few minutes later, Sarah pushed back her plate and rested her elbows on the counter. “I know you want to know why I’m here,” she said.
Corrie looked up from the newspaper and shrugged. “Only if you want to tell me. You can stay as long as you need, no questions asked. You know that.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said, her throat tight. She cleared it before beginning the story of how she had fallen for her roommate and ruined everything. When she finished, Corrie blew out her breath on a long sigh.
“Okay, let me get this straight. You’re into Rory, but when you discover that Rory is into you…you run for it.” Corrie tilted her head to one side. “Does that make sense to you? Because it doesn’t to me.”
Sarah frowned. “But…but I told you. What about her family? Being with me will make things so hard for her.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“No,” Sarah admitted. She hunched her shoulders. Why was she on the defensive here? Corrie’s supposed to be on my side. “But it sort of feels like the situation with Dar all over again. If she hides from her parents, she’ll always be afraid of our relationship. And if she tells them, they could convince her that her feelings aren’t real or that…that being with me is a mistake.” Goose bumps rose on her arms at the thought. I couldn’t stand it if that happened.
“Or maybe they wouldn’t think of this as a big deal,” Corrie said. “My parents rolled with my sexual orientation from the beginning. They were surprised but never disgusted.” She reached one hand across the island to squeeze Sarah’s shoulder. “The point is—you never know. And if Rory’s telling you that her family isn’t going to consider her coming out to be the Apocalypse…well, you have to believe her.”
Sarah opened her mouth, intent on arguing the point, but paused when Corrie suddenly got up and started to pace the kitchen floor. She did this, Sarah realized, whenever she was deep in thought.
“But what if that’s the problem,” Corrie continued. “What if you don’t believe her?” She looked at Sarah intently. “Do you trust her?”
“Of course,” Sarah said. She had trusted Rory with her secrets all year long.
But Corrie shook her head. “I’m not sure you do—not really. Not the way one lover has to trust the other.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look,” Corrie said, bracing her arms on the counter. She was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, and her triceps jumped out in definition. “You’ve had a rough year. First, your parents disown you. Then, your girlfriend breaks up with you. Are you worried about what Rory’s family will think? Sure, of course. But I think the real reason you ran out last night might b
e because you’re afraid that she’s going to leave you, too. You said it yourself, just a minute ago.”
Sarah blinked hard in surprise. Was it really that simple? She had thought that by leaving, she was acting on Rory’s behalf. But what if Corrie was right? What if her own insecurities, and not some selfless impulse, were blocking her from accepting Rory’s love and passion?
“Huh,” she said, trying to crack a smile. “When did you get so wise?”
“It’s all Quinn’s influence,” Corrie said, smiling.
Sarah reached back to massage her tense neck with one hand. “So…let’s say you’re right. What am I supposed to do about it?”
Corrie sat back down on the stool, speared a leftover strawberry with her fork, and popped it into her mouth. “I guess you have to figure out how to not be so afraid,” she said.
“Yeah.” Sarah felt her gut tighten. How was she supposed to get rid of her abandonment issues, just like that? “Got any ideas?”
“I wish I did,” Corrie said. “But how about a deal? If you promise to work on beating the fear, I promise to make you breakfast every morning until you do.”
For the first time since she’d walked out of her dorm room, Sarah’s smile was genuine. She stuck out her hand and shook Corrie’s firmly. “Deal.”
*
The next day, Sarah walked slowly up the stairs to the FRI office and paused at the door. Yesterday, when she knew that Rory would be in Biology, she had stopped by her room to gather the essentials. Now, it was time to do a similar job at the office, seeing as Friday was the last day of FRI’s lease. If everything had gone well, the prospect of packing up the office would probably have felt like part of the victory celebration. Instead, it felt like salt in the wound of defeat.
“Hey, Sarah,” Nancy said when she opened the door. She sounded tired. “Rory just stopped by about half an hour ago, looking for you.”
Sarah froze in the doorway, her heart suddenly pounding. She didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed. Probably both. Rory had been on her mind constantly, from the instant she woke up until the moment she fell asleep. I love her. I want her. I need her. But no matter what Corrie says, I will not cause her life to fall apart.
“Oh, okay,” she said, trying to sound casual. “Thanks for letting me know.” She closed the door behind her and picked her way through the boxes on the floor. “How’s it coming?”
“Slowly but surely,” Nancy said, dropping a stack of posters into the recycling bin. “Thanks for dropping by.”
“I’m free for the rest of the day,” Sarah said. “I can help out for as long as you need.”
After Nancy explained the basics of what to save and what to pitch, Sarah sat down at her desk for the last time and began going through her drawers. She felt a pang of nostalgia for the days when the outcome of the referendum had still been up in the air—when the vote could have gone either way. When she had been optimistic.
“So,” Nancy said, “what are your plans for the summer?”
“I’m going to teach sailing in Wakefield,” Sarah said. “It should be fun.” She mustered up a laugh. “Totally different from canvassing.”
Nancy nodded. “I can imagine.”
“If you’d ever like to get out on the water, just give me a call,” Sarah said. She tossed all of the pens and markers in her top drawer into a box. “How about you? What will you do now?”
“I’ll go back to work in GLAD’s main office in Boston,” Nancy said. “Keep on fighting the good fight.”
“Yeah.” Sarah pulled open her second drawer to find copies of the first flier she’d ever printed for FRI, way back in November. “You know,” she said, “I can’t even tell you how much I’ve learned here. I’m even thinking about doing a poli sci major now.”
“Instead of chemistry?”
“In addition to.” When Nancy whistled, Sarah grinned. “I know it sounds crazy.”
They worked for a while in silence, before Nancy paused again. “Oh—Rory invited me to her film’s screening next week. I just checked my calendar and unfortunately, I can’t make it. I’ll be at a conference on the West Coast. Will you let her know, and tell her how much I wish I could be there?”
“Uh, sure,” Sarah said.
“She did such a great job with that commercial,” Nancy continued, oblivious to Sarah’s discomfort. “I’m no expert on film, but it seems to me that she has real talent.”
“She’s amazing,” Sarah agreed, looking down at the contents of her third drawer without really seeing anything. Amazing and kind and generous and passionate. She doesn’t deserve me and my baggage. She deserves to be happy. To be with someone who can make her happy. Like Jeff.
Sarah shook her head and got back to work, dumping the drawer’s contents into a trash bag. She wished that it were just as easy to dispose of unwanted emotions—to compartmentalize them, seal them off, and throw them away forever. Maybe, if she avoided her long enough, Rory would be able to do just that.
*
Rory had never been to the engineering building before. She was more than a little embarrassed that here she was, a junior, carrying a map around campus like a frosh. But making Sarah see reason was far more important than her pride.
It was midafternoon on Friday, and by all rights, she should have been in bed. She hadn’t slept more than two hours at a time since Wednesday morning, but the film was finally done—she had just turned it in an hour ago. On the one hand, the last-minute, frenetic editing had distracted her from thinking too hard about how much she missed Sarah. On the other hand, her busyness had prevented her from going after Sarah and forcing her to see reason. She had tried calling Sarah’s cell a few times, but unsurprisingly, there had been no answer.
She knew exactly where Sarah was living, of course—her friend Corrie’s place, in Wakefield. That was a no-brainer. She had thought more than once about borrowing Matt’s car and showing up at Corrie’s front door. The only thing that had stopped her was the certain knowledge that she didn’t know how to convince Sarah to come back. She needed help.
Which was why she was on her way to the godforsaken engineering building. Corrie, she’d once heard Sarah mention, was a mechanical engineering graduate student. It hadn’t been difficult to find a list of the engineering doctoral candidates online. Once she had Corrie’s last name, it had been even easier to track down her office number.
Rory paused on a corner and looked to her left and right, then back down at the map. Sure enough, that was it—straight ahead. Kirk Engineering Lab. She crossed the street, walked through the double doors, and found the bank of elevators in the atrium. A few minutes later, she was standing in front of Corrie’s office. The door was cracked. Rory took a deep breath, let it out, and knocked. Here goes nothing.
“Come in,” a voice said. A feminine-sounding voice. Good sign.
Rory pushed open the door. The office was longer than it was wide. The desks to the left and right were occupied by men. At the desk directly opposite the door, however, sat a lithe blonde woman in cargo pants and a tank top. She had really nice arms, Rory realized as she stepped inside. And nice breasts. Pretty much nice everything.
“I’m looking for Corrie Marsten,” she said.
“That would be me,” the hot blonde said. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m Rory.”
“Ah.” Corrie looked surprised for an instant, before the expression morphed into a smile. She rose fluidly to her feet. “Well then. How about we go for a walk?”
They turned right out of the office. Corrie led her down a stairwell and out onto a small balcony. Rory guessed that it was a popular place for people to take smoke breaks.
“Can’t say that I was expecting you,” Corrie said, leaning her chiseled arms on the half-wall and looking down at the people walking below. “But it’s good to meet you. Sarah’s talked about you frequently over the past few days.”
“All good things, I hope,” Rory said sarcastically.
Rory narrowed her eyes. “She left and won’t return my calls because she’s crazy about me? In what universe does that make sense?”
Corrie sighed. “I think she’s trying to protect—”
“I don’t need her protection,” Rory said fiercely. “She won’t listen to me. My family would never do what hers did. Not ever! I’m certain of it.”
There was a long moment during which Corrie regarded her speculatively. “I wasn’t going to say ‘you,’” she said. “I was going to say ‘herself.’ Although, yes—when we talked, she was very concerned about how your family will react if you come out to them.”
“How is she trying to protect herself? From what?” Rory clutched at the wall as though it was the only thing holding her up. As grateful as she was to be having this conversation with Corrie, she was also still furious that Sarah had walked out on her. I want to understand. I need to. Help me.
“Look,” Corrie said, “Sarah’s had the year from hell. First, her parents cut her off. Then her girlfriend dumps her on her ass with no warning. Are you picking up on the theme, here?”
“Yeah,” Rory snapped. Her temper flared at Corrie’s attempt to play counselor. “I get it, okay? The people she trusts leave her hanging. What’s your point?”
Corrie just looked at her. Rory glared back…until the puzzle piece finally clicked into place.
“Oh,” she said, wondering how the hell she’d never thought of this before. “She thinks I’m going to leave her, too.” Was it really that simple? Sarah’s misguided, backassward attempt at nobility stemmed from her fear of abandonment?
“She’s trying to get over that particular issue,” Corrie said. “And she feels awful for running out on you. For what it’s worth.”
Rory nodded. She rubbed at her eyes, feeling the exhaustion crash over her like an ocean wave. But she couldn’t afford to be exhausted. She had a scared, lonely woman to reassure. It’d be a helluvalot easier to reassure her if she’d talk to me, dammit.