Alix & Valerie

by Ingrid Diaz

  I made my way through the crowd on the dance floor until I ran into Jade. She grabbed my arms and started dancing, if you could call it that. I wouldn’t. I cupped my hand around her ear and told her I was leaving, and to text me when she was done. She nodded without much protest, and I left the nightclub.

  Outside, the night was warm, as most nights in South Florida tended to be. I was glad that hurricane season was ending soon, rain rendered the summer months pointless.

  Whispers was located on the second floor of a two-story building in South Beach, and I walked down the stairs to the sidewalk. A tourist shop fully stocked with billions of items bearing the Florida name occupied the first floor. I made my way past the tourists crowded around the postcard displays. The Ft. Lauderdale nightlife was alive and booming all around me. People paraded back and forth in small groups, big groups, and pairs—talking, laughing, shouting.

  I’d gotten lucky with a parking spot and I was grateful to find my car still there when I returned. I got in and sat there for a few minutes, trying to decide where to go. I could stay where I was. I could head to the beach. But I didn’t feel like being alone. Not completely alone, and in the end, I could think of only one place to go.

  I’d been to Pride Factory only once in my life, having been dragged there by Jade one night to meet her favorite gay male porn star. It wasn’t the sort of place I frequented, but that’s where I ended up. I’d been searching for an embarrassing gift to give Jessica at her bachelorette party and this seemed like the perfect place to find one. I walked around, wasting time by looking at their selection of pride gear before moving on to other displays.

  People entered the store and people left. No one paid me much attention. I’m not sure how long I’d been there. A while, it seemed. I’d ended up in the video section, trying to find the most inappropriate gift possible. I was in the process of turning a DVD on its side to understand what exactly the people on the cover where doing, when a voice startled me.

  “Thanks for the tip.”

  I looked up, slowly, to find somewhat familiar blue eyes gazing down at me. It was the waitress from the club. “Did you follow me here to tell me that?”

  She smiled—a half-smile that might’ve seemed arrogant on anyone else. “I have a friend that works here. Just came to borrow something and saw you standing here, looking at . . . um . . .” Her gaze drifted over the rows of X-rated videos.

  I was suddenly aware of the video in my hand. I thought of putting it back on the shelf but that would’ve only called attention to the fact that I was embarrassed. So I held it, proudly. “It’s gift,” I said and stopped myself from saying more.

  Her smiled widened as if she didn’t believe me. “Right.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I took the moment to study her. She was beautiful in a no-nonsense sort of way. Her oval face framed by long, dark blonde hair. She was wearing her uniform still, a white cotton shirt with the Whispers logo on the left breast pocket and tight black jeans. She didn’t seem much older than me, maybe twenty-two or twenty-three at the most. I didn’t know why she was still standing there so I said, “You’re welcome for the tip.”

  She extended her hand suddenly. “Valerie Skye. Call me Val.”

  “Alix Morris,” I said, shaking her hand. “Alix with an ‘i.’” I restrained myself from covering my right eye as I usually did when explaining the spelling of my name. I’d been trying to get out of the habit of doing that upon arrival at college, but much to my dismay it was second nature. I barely caught myself this time.

  “So, I don’t mean to be nosy, but I’m a bartender, so it comes naturally to me,” she began, “but did you and your girlfriend have a fight?”

  Confusion must have shown on my face because she quickly added, “The girl you were with at the club.”

  “Oh, Jade. No.” I shook my head. “She’s not my girlfriend. Just a friend.” She was staring at me, so I looked away. I felt like fleeing. Was she hitting on me? It was then I remembered her original question. “We didn’t have a fight. I just had to get out of there.”

  She nodded. “I know the feeling.” She was silent for a second. “Hope I’m not bothering you, coming over here like this.”

  “No it’s okay.” And it was. “I’m really just wasting time until Jade finishes having fun.”

  “So why aren’t you out having fun?” she asked.

  “Not in the mood, I guess,” I said, sounding bitterer than I’d intended. “I don’t find the idea of strangers picking me up at a club fun. And I bet Jade will be wasted by the end of the night, so there was no point in my drinking. So . . .”

  She watched me for a long moment. “Well, this place is about to close in fifteen minutes.” She paused as though arriving at a decision. “Would you like to take a walk with me?”

  I opened my mouth to refuse, but then I realized I had nowhere else to go. I bit my lip, trying to decide on a course of action. I didn’t know this woman. She could’ve been a mass murderer for all I knew. All rationality and common sense told me that this was a bad idea. To this day I still don’t know why I agreed to go.

  We walked outside. She led, and I followed, until we reached the sidewalk, then I fell in step beside her, wondering why we were walking when I had a perfectly good car. But she seemed content, and I said nothing. I stuck my hands in my pockets as I usually did when I didn’t know what to do with them, and focused on not tripping.

  Val pulled out a pack of cigarettes and waved it at me.

  I shook my head no. “I find that not smoking is more rebellious these days.”

  She smiled and took out a cigarette for herself. “Mind if I succumb to the powers of nicotine?”

  I shrugged. “Your lungs.”

  She lit the cigarette and took a long drag, and then put the pack and lighter away in one swift motion. “Do you go to school?” she asked after a moment.

  “Baldwin U.”

  “I go to Miami.”

  I was surprised. She didn’t strike me as the college type. “What are you studying?”

  “Visual Arts. I’m on an art scholarship, otherwise I’d never be able to afford it.”

  “Yeah, I couldn’t afford M.U.” I relaxed a bit now that there appeared to be a general topic of conversation.

  “So what are you studying?” she asked.

  “Theater and Film Studies.”

  “Do you want to be an actress?”

  I looked up at her, my eyes narrowed. “I am an actress. I just need to find a way to be acknowledged as such.”

  She laughed. “I understand completely.”

  I searched my mind for something to say. I couldn’t stand silence. “Thanks for not calling me ugly back at the club,” I found myself saying.

  “Why was your friend asking?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s weird.”

  “Were you having self-esteem issues?”

  I had to laugh. “Nah, she was just trying to figure out why it is that I scare people away.”

  Val looked down at me, and I could tell she was trying to make sense of my statement. “I can’t imagine you scaring anyone away.”

  “Stick around, you’d be amazed.”

  That put a lull in the conversation, and I mentally kicked myself for bringing up the subject. This had been a bad idea to begin with. I barely knew this woman. Why was I walking down NE 13th Street with a total stranger who’d picked me up at a gay pride store? “Why did you ask me to take a walk with you?”

  “You’re cute,” she said.

  I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

  She laughed and looked at me. “Actually, I wanted some company.”

  I wasn’t sure if that meant that I wasn’t cute, or that I was cute and that she also wanted some company. Either way, I decided to change the subject. “Do you live around here?”

  “Yeah. About a five minute walk from the club.”

  “But you commute to Miami every day?”

  �
�I only go there part time,” she answered. “I work too much.”

  I nodded, then frowned. “Did you say you were a bartender?”

  “Yeah, one of the waitresses quit today so I had to double as both.” She glanced at me. “Where do you live?”

  “I have a dorm at Baldwin.”

  “First year?”

  I smiled. “Third. How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-one. You?”

  “Twenty. I’ll be twenty-one next month.”

  Val laughed. “I smelled fake ID all over you.”

  “Well, not for long,” I countered, a little defensively.

  A car started honking, and Val paused until the noise subsided. “When’s your birthday?”

  “October thirty-first.”

  She seemed surprised. “Halloween? That must suck.”

  I snapped my head to look at her. “It does suck. Thank you. Most people think it’s the coolest thing on earth.”

  She shrugged. “Well, I would imagine that you’d like your birthday to be your own. It kind of takes away from its importance when you have to share it with a big holiday.”

  “Exactly. I usually celebrate it the weekend before, otherwise my friends would never remember.”

  Val just nodded.

  “When’s your birthday?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

  “June first.”

  I smiled. “I was expecting you to say Christmas day, or Easter.”

  Val laughed and shook her head. “Nah. Nothing special about my birthday.”

  “Sure there is. You were born then. It gives an otherwise mundane date meaning. I think that’s what birthdays are all about actually.”

  Val caught my gaze for a few seconds. Then she looked away.

  We arrived at the end of the street and before we had a chance to turn onto North Federal Highway, my cell went off. I almost missed it, drowned out by the zooming of cars back and forth.

  “It’s Jade,” I announced, reading the text message. “I need to go pick her up.”

  “I’ll walk you back.”

  We headed back in the direction we’d come. “Did you walk all the way to Pride Factory?”

  “Yeah. I like walking.”

  “Apparently.” I smiled up at her.

  She smiled back.

  The walk back to the car was far quieter than I would have liked, but I didn’t feel as uncomfortable in the silence. When we reached the car, I was suddenly hesitant to say goodbye. “Would you like a ride home?”

  She seemed torn by the offer, and I could sense a war going on in her head. “Are you going back to Whispers?”

  “Yeah. Jade’s meeting me outside.”

  “You can drop me off there, then.”

  I unlocked the passenger side door. “Hop in.” Then I walked to the other side. When I put the key in the ignition, I prayed the car would start and was relieved to hear the engine turn. Cars were unpredictable things, very likely to embarrass you in front of people you’d just recently met. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the club.

  Val appeared to be searching for something in her pocket. A second later, she turned toward me and said, “Can I see your hand?”

  I frowned in confusion and stole a glance at her. Hesitantly, I held my right hand out in her direction. Her hand cupped mine, holding it in place. Her palm was soft and warm against my skin, and I found myself wondering if the rest of her was as soft and warm. I mentally shook myself and looked down to see her writing something on my palm. It tickled and I almost pulled away. When she finished, she gently released my hand, and I pulled my eyes away from the road to read what she’d written. It was her name and phone number. Well, this is a first, I thought to myself, not knowing what to make of the gesture.

  “You don’t have to call me,” Val quickly explained. “I just thought . . .”

  “Thanks.” I smiled, but didn’t add that I would call her. I wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was because at the time I didn’t think that I would, and I didn’t want to lie. I stopped the car across the street from Whispers, and Val went to get out, so I searched my mind for something to say. “It was nice meeting you, Val.”

  She smiled. “Nice meeting you, Alix with an ‘i.’”

  And then she was gone. I sat back against the seat, shaking my head. My mind was a whirlpool of thoughts. What had just happened?

  “Did a chick just get out of your car?” Jade asked, taking her place beside me.

  I pulled out into the street without responding. I felt depressed, and I wasn’t even sure why. “Yeah.”

  “Are you okay?”

  I glanced at her and nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay. Did you have fun?”

  “I met a guy.”

  “Really? Details please.”

  For the rest of the drive home, Jade told me all about the guy she’d met while smoking a “fag” outside. The first time she’d used that expression I thought she meant she’d been killing a gay guy, but after nearly five years of friendship I’d gotten used to her British jargon.

  After a while I zoned her out. I didn’t do it intentionally, but my mind was unable to focus on the outside world. I kept thinking about Mathew and Jessica, and how happy they were. Mathew was a great guy, and I loved him dearly. It would have been easier had I hated him, but I didn’t.

  Then my mind jumped to thoughts of Valerie and the phone number on my hand. Would I have the guts to call her? Did she want me to call her? I should have given her my number. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about it. Did I want to see her again? Did I like her?

  I pulled the car into Jade’s driveway and turned to find her staring at me. “What?”

  “You haven’t heard a bloody thing I said, have you?”

  I shook my head. “Not a damn thing.”

  “Well, all right, I’ll call you tomorrow and repeat myself. What time’s the party?”

  “Seven,” I responded.

  Jade nodded and grinned mischievously. “Can’t wait for the stripper.” She winked. “Pick me up, okay?”

  “Be ready by six,” I said. “I have to get there early and make sure everything’s good to go.”

  “Yep.” Jade jumped out of the car, and I stayed in the driveway until she disappeared into the house.

  I looked down at the number on my hand, the black ink a sharp contrast to the white of my skin; seven digits, two options, and a million possibilities. I sighed as I started toward home.

  I should have given her my number.

  Chapter 3

  Much of Friday passed by in a blur of theater classes and acting workshops. At six, I stopped at Jade’s to pick her up and headed off to Jessica’s to get the party set up.

  We arrived at Jessica’s mansion around ten after six and set up the food in the rec room. By seven guests started to arrive. By seven-thirty I escaped to Jessica’s bedroom, where I collapsed on her king sized waterbed and willed myself to sleep. My night had been restless, having tossed and turned for hours. I had a class at seven in the morning, for which I managed to drag myself out of bed. I’d been exhausted the rest of the day, weaving through my myriad of classes like a zombie on automatic pilot.

  I fell asleep at some point and awoke at the sound of the door opening. I looked up to find Jessica walking toward me, holding a bottle of Dr. Pepper and two plastic cups filled with ice. She was dressed casually in blue jeans and a tight white tee shirt. By looking at her, you would never guess that she was worth billions of dollars or that she owned one of the biggest mansions in the United States. You would never guess it either by talking to her.

  “Having fun?” she asked, joining me on the bed, which protested the addition of her weight by forming a series of waves across the water mattress. She sat down, Indian style.

  “A blast,” I responded, feeling more or less rested. “Are you?”

  She considered the question. “Well, the stripper was certainly a surprise.”

  I grinned. “It wasn’t my idea. Besides,
it’s supposed to be some kind of tradition.”

  “Of course.”

  “Why’d you leave the party?” I asked.

  She handed me one of the cups, forcing me to sit up. “Can’t have a party without my maid of honor.” She poured the soda into both cups.

  “Jess, you hate Dr. Pepper.”

  “And you hate parties. Consider it a compromise.” She smiled and lifted the cup. “To my best friend.”

  I smiled. “To mine.”

  I watched her take a sip, loving the disgust that crossed her face. “I can’t believe you like this stuff.”

  I drank the whole thing in one gulp. “It’s wonderful. Did I ever tell you the story of how Dr. Pepper got its name?”

  Jessica looked thoughtful for a moment, as though going through her file of memories and examining each one for the required information. “Nope. Do tell.”

  I cleared my throat and took on a mocking storyteller voice. “Once upon a time, there lived a young man who loved a young woman, and she loved him just as much. However, the girl’s evil father, a man by the name of Dr. Pepper, refused the young man’s request to marry his daughter, insisting that he would never amount to anything. The broken-hearted fellow, insistent on proving his worth to Dr. Pepper, created the formula for a deliciously refreshing soft drink that does not taste like medicine no matter what you people say, and named it Dr. Pepper, after the girl’s father.”

  “Did they ever get together?” Jessica asked.

  “The guy and the father? I don’t think so, but you never know.”

  Jessica laughed and smacked my arm playfully. “You know what I meant.”

  I smiled, my flesh tingling where she’d touch me. “I don’t know, actually.”

  “Well, I’m disappointed in you, Alix. You’re supposed to know these things. How can I come to respect the story if I don’t know the entire thing?”

  I suppressed my desire to tackle her and tickle her to death for being such a pain in my ass. “I guess you’re just going to have to try and move on with your life somehow,” I said instead.