“About what?” I said. I knew I was coming across as cold and unsympathetic, but she'd been cold and unsympathetic to my feelings plenty of times. I just needed to protect myself.
“About... stuff,” she said.
I glanced around, assessing if this was an appropriate place and time to have a conversation that would probably lead to at least one of us crying. One of the waitresses gave me a questioning raise of her eyebrow, and I knew I had to keep my boundaries firm.
“Now isn't a good time,” I said.
Faye nodded in understanding. “When are you done?”
I looked around again, taking any opportunity to avoid eye contact. “About half an hour.”
Faye took a steadying breath and nodded. “Okay. I'll wait.”
Feeling my anxiety start to build, I said, “Look, Faye...”
But she held up her hand, more assertive and certain than she usually was. “I know I fucked things up. I just want five minutes.”
Seeing her pained, pleading expression, I figured I could withstand another five minutes of talking to her. I'd endured months of it, after all. “Okay. But I'm really tired.”
“Just five minutes.”
“Okay.” I turned and went back to my office, double-checking that we'd settled accounts with the entertainment for the evening before clocking out and locking the office and back doors.
The main room was deserted now, save for Faye. She was sitting in the dark, candle extinguished, hands clasped nervously around her phone in her lap. I felt a little bad for making her wait, but my resentment over the hours and weeks and months I'd waited for her told me not to feel guilty.
She got up and wordlessly followed me out the door, watching as I locked the main door behind me. I remembered the first time she'd seen me lock up at work; we'd been drunk beyond intelligibility and headed for the first of what became many night stands. It seemed ages ago.
“Where do you want to talk?” I asked, not making eye contact.
“I have somewhere in mind,” she said. “I'll give you a ride home after.”
I wouldn't have agreed to go to a separate location with her without the offer of a ride home, but as it was, I agreed and followed her to her car.
As she drove further out of the Castro than I expected, I started to feel irritated. Once again, she wasn't communicating with me, which meant I would have to start figuring out answers myself, which would inevitably be incorrect.
By the time she pulled into the Mason-O'Farrell garage, my patience was quickly dwindling.
“Faye, I'm really tired,” I began. “I need to go home and sleep.”
“I know,” she assured, calmer now that she was in control. “Just five minutes.”
Bracing myself for whatever she had in store, I stared straight ahead as she took a parking ticket from the machine, waited for the arm to lift, and started driving up the circular ramp. As we ascended, it started feeling as though we were on a spiral to nowhere. Finally, on what felt like the fifteenth floor, she pulled onto the garage floor and parked.
“You wanted to talk in a parking garage miles from where we live?” I asked, not bothering to mask my annoyance.
“It's worth it,” she said, not making eye contact. She turned off the ignition and got out of her side, walking around to mine.
After locking the doors, she offered me her arm and as she escorted me to the elevator, which felt oddly formal and out of character. It was almost like we were on a date. You know, if Faye dated.
Her steps were brisk and anxious. Once I felt her eyes rake up and down my body. I flushed, feeling proud and embarrassed at the same time. I wasn't used to that kind of attention from her. Well, at least not in public. I was used to concentrated, smoldering attention of her lips on my skin and her sweat mixed with mine. But her eyes on my clothed body in public were new.
As we went up the elevator, she kept my hand on her arm, looking at me nervously a few times as we rose past invisible layers of cars and concrete. When the bell dinged at the top, she shivered and said, "I wanted you to see my favorite place in the city at night."
Skeptical, I looked out the door and saw a square of concrete with a few vehicles parked around the edges. But as Faye walked me out of the elevator enclosure, I realized that we were in the center of the universe.
All around us, the lights of the city were twinkling, rows of lights and windows like sparklers placed perfectly around us. This one slab of concrete seemed an empty field around which the entire world rose in its illuminated glory. The expanse of the night sky fitted itself into my chest as I looked up and around, amazed.
"Wow..." I breathed, hearing myself clearly. The noise of the traffic ten stories below was faint and soothing, like a rain machine.
I looked around, and a smile forced itself across my face, pushed up from my chest where the sky was resting. All the glory of the city was within me as it surrounded me. Despite the agony of the past few days, there was no place in the world I wanted to be other than in that parking lot at that moment.
Faye loosened her grasp on my elbow as I turned around, my purse swinging at my knees as I turned and turned, trying to take in every bit of light around me. Until I got to San Francisco, I was certain that nothing could surpass the beauty of the plains of Michigan, their rolling serenity touched by God. Nothing man-made could ever be so beautiful. And yet here in the middle of the urban jungle, standing next to a beautiful girl, I knew I had been wrong. There is beauty everywhere, of all shapes and makes and sizes.
Faye watched me as though I was the only thing she could see. She glanced up at the lights for a moment, but other than that, I felt her gaze burning into me, watching as I experienced the wonder of her favorite place. I knew why it was her favorite place. There are few places when you can feel alone at the center of the world. This was one of those places.
I looked back at her. She was beaming, eyes twinkling with happiness. And I realized that she was waiting for something. What, I didn't know.
"Like it?" she asked.
"I love it..." I breathed. I looked up again, still not filled with the wonder and expansion around me.
She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears. "I've never brought a girl here before," she admitted, sounding sheepish and happy at the same time.
I looked down at her, wary.
She swallowed and took a breath. "I wanted to bring you here because it's a special place, and you're pretty special."
I felt my resolve to keep good boundaries start to crumble. "You're special too, Faye," I assured her.
Despite everything, I couldn't not say it.
She swallowed and nodded and things were silent for a moment. I studied the glittering lights in the darkness of her eyes as they skittered around the parking lot. Then, with sudden determination, thrust forward out of fear, she looked up at me and said, "I called my friend Isaiah today.”
“Oh yeah?”
Faye took a deep breath. “I needed to talk to someone who knows me really well.”
“You could have called me,” I said, realizing too late that I had opened the floodgates for taking care of her again. I wasn't supposed to do that.
“No,” Faye said. “I needed to talk to someone who is... not you. I talked to Claire tonight, too.”
I stood still and waited for her to keep talking.
I saw Faye’s eyes start to line with tears. “I talked to Isaiah and Claire because I needed to practice...” She trailed off, starting to shake. “I needed to tell someone who cares about me that I like girls.” Her eyes grew misty and she trembled a bit. “And I needed to tell someone about this amazing girl... who for some reason puts up with all my shit,” she said, starting to squeak as she cried.
My heart started pounding as I realized what she was saying.
“Because — because I want to work on saying things out loud more often, because you deserve to hear them. And I’m so sorry -- sorry it’s taken me so long to tell you that--" she swallowed, as though the words we
re stuck in her throat, “that I love you too.”
All the lights around us converged in my heart, and I felt as though I was being lifted off the ground. I took her hands in mine, grasping tightly as I beamed back at her. I couldn’t believe she was actually saying the things I wanted so desperately to hear. She had said them. She had looked me in the eye while she said them. The expression on her face told me she meant them.
“Really?” I asked, my voiced squeaking with happiness.
She was nervous, but gripped my hands with solid determination. “Really,” she murmured back. “You’ve been telling me for months that we’re more than friends, and I knew... I know. I just — I was so afraid. I’m still afraid.”
Seeing the edges of Faye’s fear now, I nodded and squeezed her hands to reassure her as I reassured myself that I wasn’t dreaming.
“I know you've given me about a thousand chances, and I feel like I don't deserve another. I'm sorry I didn't say anything the other night. I just heard you saying you didn't want to see me, and I was so hurt... But then I realized what you meant and I couldn't not try...”
She trailed off and I felt the weight I'd been carrying for the past few days lift off my shoulders, floating up into the light-filled sky, practically forgotten.
“I’m not ready to tell my parents yet,” she said, ducking her head in shame. “I have to wait until I finish school.”
“That’s okay,” I whispered. “I understand.”
“I will, though. I promise. I already told them I broke up with Dave.” She paused for a minute before taking a deep breath and saying, “And if you’re not tired of me by June, I want to be your date to Kimi’s wedding. The thought of you going alone or taking someone else is worse than being a little scared about what strangers will think.”
I shook my hands out of her grasp so I could reach forward and cup her face. More than anything, I wanted to bring her face to mine, pressing our lips together. But we were in public, and even if she had just said she loved me, I didn’t want to assume she was ready for public affection.
“Can I kiss you?” I pleaded, certain I would die from the effort it would take to hold back if she said no.
But she smiled and let out a cute little gasping laugh. “Yeah,” she said.
I practically lunged forward and planted the biggest, wettest kiss I had ever given her on her lips. I wrapped my arms around her neck, squeezing her tight as we kissed and kissed and kissed, lips growing sloppy and rough with each other until she started giggling, pulling away.
“So are we dating?” I asked, incredulous.
“Yeah,” she hummed. “We’re dating.”
We kissed for minutes, maybe hours, maybe days before she pulled back and asked in her most timid voice, “Can I call you my girlfriend?”
At that I burst into tears, kissing her until I had to pull back to breathe, beaming at her as the lights of the city kaleidoscoped in the corners of my eyes. She looked concerned, like she had said something wrong, so I cupped her face again. She had given me everything I wanted, and I hadn’t had to ask this time. I had wanted to be with her for so long, in so many ways, and here she was, offering them all to me.
Faye had asked me to be her girlfriend.
Her first ever official girlfriend.
But now her eyebrows were pitching and her eyes flickered back and forth between mine, looking for an answer I thought was obvious.
“Yes,” I sniffled, “Oh god, please yes.”
She exhaled in relief. “Okay,” she said, leaning forward and wrapped her arms around me. She was the strongest I had ever felt her. Stronger than when she flipped me over during sex, stronger than when she drank me under the table, stronger than when she walked down the street in four inch heels breaking necks with all the double-takes she got. She was soft-strong, and I melted into her.
“Okay,” she whispered again. “Okay, girlfriend.”
And at that I buried my face in her neck and sobbed, clutching at her back, never wanting to let go.
I had her now.
And she had me.
As we drove to Faye's house, my heart was beating quickly, thumping against my ribcage. I was excited and anxious and wanted to be closer to Faye than I could be in the car. I settled for holding her right hand with both of mine and leaning over to place kisses on her shoulder as we drove the winding road back to the highway, then over the bridge to the city we both call home now.
But I realized my home wasn’t a place anymore. It was a person.
We walked into her house with the same joy we’d felt on the beach. She looked more nervous than I’d seen her in a long time. She offered to let me shower first, saying that she didn’t want to get sand in her bed. I took a long shower, grateful to feel the sand and wind peel off me in the fresh water.
Afterwards I wasn’t sure if I should put on clothes, since we knew we were going to be naked in her bed together. But part of me wanted the whole experience, including undressing each other. I listened to the hum of her showering as I slathered lotion on my body, then covered it with a clean t-shirt from her bottom drawer and a pair of shorts I found tucked next to it. I brushed out my hair, studying myself in the mirror, noticing the sun had stained my freckles a shade darker that day. Then I checked my phone, deleting some mass emails before turning it off so Faye and I could spend the rest of the day uninterrupted.
Then Faye appeared in the doorway behind me. She’d gotten dressed too, and brushed her hair, and her skin gleamed with lotion. Both of our faces were fresh and sun-painted.
She smiled her most nervous smile and walked toward me.
“Hi,” she said, sounding almost shy.
“Hi,” I echoed, smiling at her timidity.
She placed her hands on my elbows as she drew me into a soft kiss. Then she pulled back, staring into the pit of me, and asked, “Are you sure?”
To prove my point, I drew her flush against me, wrapped my arms around her neck, and gave her a deep, sucking kiss that smacked when I lifted away.
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me if I get overwhelming?”
I paused, uncertain for the first time since asking her to bring me home.
“Overwhelming… how?”
“I don't know. Just stop me if you’re overwhelmed, okay?”
“Okay.”
I felt my okay echo in my mouth as she kissed me slow and deep, drawing me into her, ready to bare ourselves.
We kissed for a long time, the slow, familiar kisses we had come to memorize. Each kiss was exciting because no matter how familiar, it existed with us in the present, in a new endeavor, a new closeness.
Being undressed by Faye was rapturous. She smoothed every rough edge, every problem and insecurity away from me. All the harsh lines and expectations Vance and Henry and Dr. Turner had for me were wiped away. I was but a single, whole being, now melded with Faye's being, alive and experiencing myself in a new way.
It's not that my other lovers had been inattentive. Far from it. But none of them felt me. They didn't take time to learn the curve of my waist or the underswell of my breast the way Faye did. They didn't lavish attention on the parts of me that weren't obviously meant for pleasure but surely are. My hair, being stroked and gently tugged, my hips, caressed without being jerked into a new position by the spreading of my legs. My arms and wrists, strong and confident and just as pleasure-providing as my nipples and lips. Every part of me is a piece of a complete being that adored being adored. And Faye knew how to adore me.
She was so warm, so committed to pleasing me and making sure I was comfortable, I melted beneath her. I surrendered at the first stroke of her hand, the first dip of her tongue into my mouth. With her soft lips against my stomach, I realized that I wanted this more than I wanted any other happily ever after. If she could bring me to this state of rapture and satisfaction, if I could feel this unfettered, this whole and good and alive, even once every year with her, I wanted it to last forever.
When someone is able to take your body and help you transcend it, you realize how limitless love can be. If that limitless love doesn't last the rest of your life, you're going to die. You'll die either way, either from the pleasure of her tongue tracing the back of your knee, or knowing that no one else will ever take you to a place of euphoria again.
Even though I shook the whole time, even though I cried and laughed at the same time, even though at times we had to reposition ourselves or awkwardly negotiate the placement of our limbs, I felt as though all my secrets and demons were spilling into her as she cherished them.
Faye was it for me. She was the person I wanted to be with forever, and I didn't care that other people had expectations for me that I would never measure up to. The only thing I needed to measure up to was Faye, and from the calm, rosy look on her face, I was doing that just fine.
Once I had recovered, I reached out and touched her for the first time. I didn't think about the doubts that could have come. I just wanted to touch her, to feel that soft trust, that clutch, that delicacy she had cherished in me. Even though my hand shook as I touched her, even if, to my embarrassment, she had to guide me through something that should have been so obvious to me, I knew I was doing fine. She was open and trusting, letting me fumble my way through until I felt her arch and clench and gasp into me, holding me tighter, as though by surprise. The way she cradled me to her afterwards, wrapping me in her arms and sheets and heart, told me I was good and enough. Nothing had ever been more satisfying. Not even when she recovered and flipped me over with a coy smirk as she spread my legs and ducked her head, tongue softer and more surprising than the wicked smile on her face. With the first lick, the rest of her softened, as though she was sinking back into this sacred thing we were doing. Her ability to be open and wanting was gift enough that I was able to let go every time she coaxed me.
And when she turned to me afterwards, glowing with sweat, a sated smile on her face, I wanted to keep our intimacy game going.
“Tell me something about...” I paused, trying to think of something I didn’t already know about her.
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