A Partner for Life

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Part One Start of fall semester, 2009, UGA, Athens, Georgia. I was so late. The sound of my sneakers hitting the sidewalk echoed in my ears, my backpack bouncing against my shoulders as I ran. It's a good thing I was in shape. Why did this place have to be so freaking big? I mean sure, it sounded great. After growing up in a little town and going to a tiny high school, the University of Georgia had seemed like such a grand adventure. Finally Miller Hall loomed in front of me, four intimidating stories of red brick. This one single building was at least three times the size of my high school, with two more floors. I pushed open the doors. I needed to find room 207, and quickly. I took the stairs two at a time. It had to be on the second floor, right? As I crested the stairs a couple of guys were standing next to a bulletin board. I turned on my smile and tossed my sandy blonde hair. It got the effect it usually did, and I instantly had their attention. "Boys, do y'all know where 207 is?" I let a little Vivian Leigh slide into my normal Georgia drawl. "Uh, sure. It's that way." The taller one pointed to my left. One more brilliant flash of my pearly whites. "Y'all are so sweet." I took off down the hall, knowing their eyes were on me as I did. I giggled to myself as I reached the door. Apparently my charms weren't only good in small towns. They definitely had their uses. My small triumph was wiped from my mind as I walked into the huge, amphitheatre style classroom. The thing could seat two hundred and fifty if it could hold a dozen, and it was at least half full. My graduating class had thirtysix kids. There were at least three times that many in this single room. I took a deep breath and climbed up into the fourth row, locating three empty seats. I took the one in the middle. The differences from what I'd known before didn't end with the size of the room. On my left was a young man of East Asian descent, and on my right was a pretty Muslim girl wearing a head scarf. The sum total of our diversity back at Marin High School had been five AfricanAmerican students. Before today I'd actually felt very cosmopolitan because one

of them had been my good friend Tiwana, who'd played with me on our tennis team. I was quickly realizing I had no idea what true diversity looked like. As I sat down I smiled at the girl, and she smiled back. I pulled out the little fold-away desk and opened my notebook as the professor entered the room. Tall and thin faced, he introduced himself in a nasal Eastern European brogue. "Welcome to Econ 101; I'm Dr. Kovacevic. We will be starting with a basic review of the laws of supply and demand, which I assume you are familiar with." He began to write on the board, and I felt my spirit start to rise to the challenge. I wasn't Cindy Spencer, valedictorian and tennis stand-out here. Here I was just student #410137012. For now, at least. *** I knocked on Coach Holiday's door, my heart tripping along a little faster than normal. "Come in!" I opened the door and stepped inside the office. "Hi, Coach. You wanted to see me? Cindy Spencer?" The dark haired woman on the other side of the desk laughed. God, I felt so country around her. "Cindy, I know who you are. I recruited you, didn't I?" I blushed. "Sorry, I just, I didn't know." "It's fine. Have a seat." I obeyed, forcing myself to relax. "I just wanted to check in, make sure you're adjusting okay. I don't have any questions about your academic ability, of course, but this place can be overwhelming to anyone." "Well, I think I know where all my classes are now. And I really appreciate you giving me the chance to walk on this spring. I won't let you down." "Oh, I know." She leaned across the desk. "Look, I've seen you play, you're going to be fine. And the only reason you're 'walking on' is because with your grades and test scores I was able to get you an academic full ride." She sighed and shuffled some papers at her desk. "What can I say? We're not the football team. Our resources are limited."

We talked for a while, and I felt better by the minute. This was the first time I'd actually met the coach in person, although I'd skyped her with her a few times. To be honest I'd been stunned when Georgia had called. I mean, I hadn't lost a competitive match since I was a Freshman, but we were a small school playing other small schools. We'd won the 2A championships two years running, but I'd seen Carrie Mitchell play in the 8A finals, and she was something. I don't know if I was on her level, but I'd love to find out. She'd had multiple division one offers, I'm sure. Coach closed my folder. "Thanks for coming by. If you need anything, tutoring, issues with school, just let me know." "I will. Thanks, Coach." "Obviously we can't have official practices until next semester, but I do want my incoming freshmen to meet with the strength and conditioning coach now, so we can hit the ground running in January. It'll also give you a chance to meet the other freshmen recruits." "Sure, just let me know where and when." "Four o'clock, Thursday at the sports complex. I'll send you an email with everything." *** I was fifteen minutes early to the meeting, but I still wasn't the first one there. I had to pick my jaw up off the floor when I walked in and saw Carrie Mitchell sitting there alone. She stood up and smiled, holding out her hand. "Hi! Carrie Mitchell." I shook her hand, and she did have quite a grip. "Cindy Spencer. Hello." A look of recognition passed over her face. "Marin High, right?" "Yeah, how did you...?" "I heard about your unbeaten streak, and I made sure I got to see your match at the finals. You're really good." "Not as good as you." She blushed a little. "Well, I'm glad we're on the same team now." I took a seat. "So what are you majoring in?"

"Honestly I'm not sure yet, but I'm leaning towards Kinesiology. How 'bout you?" "Economics and banking." Carrie grimaced. "Wow, that sounds like a lot of math." "Yeah, well, I was always good at math." "That makes one of us." We chatted for a few more minutes before anyone else arrived, a tall quiet girl who sat in the corner. She acknowledged us with a nod, but nothing else. I made an 'oh well' face and turned away, and that's when it happened. "What's up ladies! We are going to kick some ass this year!" I looked up at the door where a girl had just walked in, like right out of a gay rights poster. She was wearing a tight black T-shirt and loose jeans with black sneakers. Her hair was short, parted on the left with the bangs swept up and over. I've mentioned the lack of diversity in my life, and I was prepared for a lot of things, but for some reason not this. My church had preached love for all peoples. We supported missionaries in Asia, the Middle East, Africa, and other places. All people are made in the image of God. Except for gays, of course. They were vilified, condemned out of hand. As far as I knew there hadn't been a single homosexual in my school. I know now that the chances of getting three-hundred random people in one place and not having some who are LGBTQ+ is next to impossible, so most likely more than a few were hiding. But at that time I was living in a small fantasy world where the bad guys lived far away. But when I did picture them, the female ones at least, they dressed like her. But there was something else. She had these piercing blue eyes that took my breath away. And she wasn't ugly. Lesbians were supposed to be, you know, mannish and square jawed. Plain to downright homely. Instead her face was this androgynous combination of handsome femininity with soft lips and high cheekbones. I had to make myself look away. The newcomer tossed her bag onto a table and held out a hand. "Hi. Mitch Kirkpatrick." Carrie shook it and introduced herself. Mitch turned to me and held out her hand again, and I took it lightly, wearing that same expression my mother used when she had to greet people she didn't like. Somewhere deep inside me I

felt shame in my attitude, but I wasn't able to overcome it on such short notice. But I did notice how warm her hand was, and how that heat seemed to radiate up my arm. As she turned to introduce herself to the other girl in the back I looked quizzically at Carrie, mouthing 'Mitch?!' Carrie just shrugged. Soon enough the strength and conditioning coach came in and we got down to business. I did my best to focus on what he was saying, but I could feel Mitch's eyes on me from the row behind, and it made me deeply uncomfortable. I was constantly fiddling with the strings on the neck of my halter top, and I was bitterly wishing I'd worn something more concealing. Finally the coach dismissed us to the locker room to change, and I made sure that I sat far away from Mitch, trying not to glance at her out of the corner of my eye. When I got out into the weight room I hopped onto the bench press, and Mitch immediately jumped in above my head to spot. "You ready?" I sighed and nodded, looking away from those stupidly blue eyes as I lifted the bar off its rests. I lowered it and pushed up as Mitch counted. "One. You don't like me. How come? Everybody likes me. Two." I spoke through my effort. "I don't know you enough to like you or not." Mitch laughed. "Bullshit. Three. Is it 'cause I'm taller than you? Four." I scowled at her. "No." Her little smirk made me hate myself, and I felt that I'd given something away. "Five. Okay. Oh, I know, it's 'cause I've got better hair. Six." "You do not! You don't have any... ungh... hair to speak of anyway." "Seven, Ah, now we have it. You don't like girls with short hair. Eight, come on, two more. Don't girls wear their hair short where you come from? Nine. Last one, come on." My arms were screaming, so I couldn't respond with more than a grunt as I pushed up until the bar was seated back on the rests. "Good job, but you didn't answer my question."

I sighed and looked down, noticing for the first time that my loose tank top and sports bra weren't hiding the fact that my nipples had hardened from the exertion. I was also wearing red, skin-tight exercise pants. I must be putting on quite a show for her; the thought of which gave me a little shudder. I quickly sat up and bowed my head. "No, they don't. Are you a Lesbian?" Mitch gave a short laugh and tried to look offended. "Am I that obvious?" I shrugged. "I don't know any gay women. There aren't any in my town." That got another laugh. "I'll guarantee you that's not true. So you're not a lesbian?" I shot her the dirtiest look I could, trying to put some serious venom in my response. "No!" If she was annoyed or offended she didn't show it. "That's a shame. You really are cute when you're not making that face." I spluttered, trying to come up with something witty to say, but she didn't give me a chance, turning and walking away towards the leg machines. I made my own way to the free weights and did some curls, sitting so that my back was to her. Unfortunately the damn mirrors made it so that I could see her from wherever we were. For the rest of the session I'd constantly catch her out of the corner of my eye. There was just something mesmerizing about the way she moved. When we finished I went to sit by my locker while Mitch and Carrie and the other girl got into the shower. I couldn't handle being naked with her. She just got under my skin, if you'll pardon the expression. I couldn't help but notice her, though, when she got out. As she toweled her hair I could see her from behind. Her figure was womanly, with a strong toned behind and long firm legs that emphasized her curves. I shook my head and turned away, wrapping a towel around my body and slipping past them into the steam filled room. As I let the water wash over my aching muscles, Mitch's eyes climbed back into my consciousness. The way she'd been smirking at me, asking me if I were a, um, god, I couldn't even think of it. Asking if I were like her. I just needed to get a boyfriend. That would shut her up. ***

It didn't take me too long. It turns out I was right about not being just small town pretty. I went to a few parties, and the guys were perfectly and predictably interested. Unfortunately they were also college guys, and therefore that interest revolved around two things, beer and sex. You can guess which one they wanted from me. I needed someone who I could actually flaunt a little. Luckily, those weren't that hard to find, if you were patient. I met Ethan at a frat party, and he was actually dressed in a shirt and tie. He was just under six feet tall, with soft brown eyes and dark hair that was perfectly combed.. And, given the Rolex on his wrist, he came from money. We danced and I teased, but he didn't push the issue. He did walk me to my dorm, to make sure I got back safe, he said. At the entrance he kissed me and wished me goodnight, asking if he could see me again. When he leaned in I was hoping for that thunderbolt that my girlfriends always talked about, but nope. Still, he was gentle, and it wasn't too bad, and I happily agreed to let him take me out next Friday. The next day I met up with Carrie and Mitch for what would become our normal Saturday workout. I regaled them both with how amazing the party had been last night and how handsome Ethan was. "So, did you get lucky, or rather did he get lucky?" I scowled at Mitch. "No, he did not. He was a gentleman." I let my face morph into a superior smile. I'd show her. "We kissed in the moonlight, though, and it was lovely." "Made you all tingly and excited?" I could feel my cheeks heat. "That is none of your business." I walked away, over to where Carrie was doing leg presses, and sat down on the machine next to her. Something in Mitch's eyes told me she already knew the answer to her question was 'no'. She went over to the free weights, and I lowered my voice so she couldn't hear. "She's a nightmare." Carrie chuckled. "No she's not, she just makes you uncomfortable. So you really didn't have any gay students?" I shook my head. "When I was a freshman there was a guy who had rumors going around about him. He was brutalized, got beat up a couple of times,

eventually had to leave school. He was only sixteen, and I'm not even sure it was true, that he was gay. Anyone else that way inclined kept it to themselves." Carrie nodded. "How small a school did you go to?" "Thirty-six in my graduating class." "Geez. Mine was huge. I was in the Atlanta suburbs. We even had a gaystraight alliance club. There were several people out, of both genders." "Can I ask an ignorant question?" Carrie nodded. "Are all lesbians like her?" I threw a glance toward Mitch, who was sitting on a bench curling a twentyfive pound weight, her well-defined shoulders and biceps glistening with sweat. I pulled my gaze away and looked back at Carrie, who was laughing. "I've met a few butches before, but I think it's safe to say that our Mitch is one of a kind." I looked back at Mitch, her toned muscles moving smoothly under her skin as she curled a twenty pound weight. She was so masculine, but at the same time not masculine at all. I'd never seen anything like her, and I was still finding it hard to look away. When we were finished Mitch stretched her back. "I feel awesome. Lunch, people?" "No thanks." I scowled and turned away, immediately hating myself for the way I sounded. I was playing right into the small town redneck rube stereotype. I always thought I was better than that. Luckily Carrie gave me a second chance. "Aw, come on. We all have to get along." I stopped walking and hung my head for a second before turning around. "You're right, I'm sorry." "Hey, that's better." Mitch grinned at me, and my insides did a little lurch. I wasn't sure why, but it wasn't unpleasant. We made our way to the cafeteria, where I selected a three-bean salad with grilled chicken and some fruit, along with unsweetened iced tea. I was happy with it, a good amount of protein but healthy. I went and sat down next to Carrie, who'd gotten some chicken and pasta thing. Mitch sat down across from me with a greasy burger and fries, which made my brow crinkle. "How can you stay in shape eating stuff like that?"

"What? There's vegetables." She indicated the lettuce, tomato and pickles on her burger. "That does not count and you know it." "Sure it does. Besides, what's the point in living if all you can eat is rabbit food?" Mitch jabbed her fork at my salad. "I have nightmares about being chased by food like that." Carrie was chuckling, and I couldn't help but laugh, too. The grin that spread across Mitch's face when I did made her look almost pretty, and I just shook my head at her. She took a big bite from her burger. "It's really not bad, given it's dorm food. God, I miss having a proper kitchen." She swirled a fry through some ketchup. "These fries suck though." I couldn't fully keep the incredulity out of my voice. "You cook?" She leaned forward and locked eyes with me. "I could fix you something that would make you weep." The intensity of her gaze held me for a second, before her shoulders started to shake in laughter. That made me grin again and shake my head. "I might just let you do that sometime. In a completely platonic sense of course." I added the last part a bit too quickly. "I'll hold you to it." Carrie was looking back and forth between us, and I was just starting to feel uncomfortable when Mitch turned toward her and kept going. "Both of you if I get a chance. Now the food at my High School, that was some god awful swill. I think I ate in the cafeteria there maybe three times in four years. I'd bring my own lunch and share with my friends. I was very popular." Carrie and I both laughed, and Mitch was spurred on to share more stories from her High School. She really was funny, and I found any lingering discomfort I had slipping away. This quickly became our Saturday normal. I was also allowing things to progress with Ethan, which gave me something to talk about, especially since I got the distinct impression that me expounding on how amazing my boyfriend was made Mitch uncomfortable. I figured it was payback. Her very presence made me nervous, though I was pretty sure I was getting better at hiding it.

The thing was, on the rare occasions that Mitch didn't make our workouts, I didn't like it. It felt empty somehow. I missed our verbal sparring. On the other hand, she did seem to take a perverse enjoyment in teasing me, but I got in more than my fair share of jabs. I let Ethan court me for over a month before I brought him up to my room for the night. I was nervous about it, but I wasn't a virgin. This would be my first time in a bed, instead of a backseat, or once on a couch. I was expecting it to be romantic and for it to last longer. After all, Ethan was twenty and seemed so experienced, I thought he'd be great, instead of the disappointments I'd had before. And he was better. He was gentle and considerate, and he really was trying, but my body just refused to respond. I kept a little bottle of KY Jelly next to my bed that I used to hurry things along when I masturbated, and I had to stop him so I could get it. To make up for it I went down on him until he was good and ready, and then rode him 'til he finished. I did my best to pretend to enjoy it, and I lied to him afterwards when he asked if it had been good. I told him my roommate would be back a little after midnight, another lie, just to get rid of him. After he left I had a little cry, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I mean, he was handsome, kind, smart and funny, every girl's dream. I should be melting inside at the thought of his touch. I wouldn't admit that, though, and I talked up the whole experience to Carrie and Mitch after our workout the next day. Mitch seemed particularly eager to change the subject, so to follow up I invited Ethan to join us for lunch the next Saturday, and I spent the time hanging on him while Mitch fought back scowl after scowl. I was being petty, I guess, but Mitch had the annoying habit of showing up with stories about her own exploits with some girl she'd met at a party, or in the laundry room, or wherever. I dutifully scowled my way through them, but the things she said would often echo in my mind as I tried to sleep. "Why does she have to carry on about it all the time?" Carrie and I had met for dinner, and I was, in typical fashion, bitching about Mitch. "You know why she does it. It gets under your skin." "No it doesn't. I don't care who she sleeps with."

"Uh-huh." Carrie smiled at me strangely. "You know, for someone you hate, you sure talk about her a lot." I didn't have a response to that at the time, although I came up with one a few days later. But as my first semester of college ended, it was certainly true that no one was on my mind as much as one Michelle Kirkpatrick. *** The start of spring semester also brought the start of official practices. This made me far more nervous than I tried to let on. I'd been out on the practice courts with Carrie, of course, and I knew she was better than I was, but it was a lot closer than I'd feared. I was just terrified of being an embarrassment. The night before our first official meeting I had this nightmare where the coach dismissed me in front of everyone after the first practice. "Sorry, I was wrong about you. You're just not Lady Bulldog material. Time for you to go." They didn't let me back on the bus, and I lay there crying as they drove away. Mitch's face was sad as it showed through the back window of the yellow school bus. (Don't ask why it was a school bus. I don't know.) I cried until it was dark, and then something was hunting me as I ran down the road. I woke up sweating through my nightgown, thrashing and breathing heavily. I looked over at my roommate, Lana, who gave an unladylike snort and rolled toward the wall. I finally calmed down. I wasn't sure if I was happier that I hadn't woken her, or that she hadn't seen me crying. Inevitably the time came, and I was on the court with the rest of the team, the same team that had won the SEC championship last year. Several of the top players from last year had moved on, but that was normal, and they expected to restock and win again. Coach blew her whistle. "Okay, great to see everyone ready for another great year. Coach Roberts says everyone here has kept up on their fitness. That's good. Let's see if you've kept up anything else. First day especially, we're just going to have some fun. Pair off and warm up. Freshmen, with me." Carrie, Mitch, and the tall girl from that initial meeting, whom I hadn't seen since, all gathered around the coach, who was looking down at her old fashioned clipboard. "Okay, Carrie Mitchell."

Carrie stepped forward. "Ma'am." "Carrie, I'm going to pair you with Kolokhotsova." The tall girl nodded and jogged out to one of the open courts with her bag. Carrie glanced at me and shook her head before following. I looked back at Coach Holiday, who had lifted her head toward Mitch and I. "Kirkpatrick, Spencer. Warm up, play a few games. We'll be watching." I nodded, bouncing up and down on my toes, but I didn't move. Mitch let out a whoop and headed to the far side of the court. Coach Holiday noticed my hesitation. "Problem, Spencer?" The tone of her voice snapped me out of my trance. "No, Ma'am." When I got into position Mitch held up a ball, and I nodded to her. She swatted it over the net, and I stepped to my left and hit it back. The next was hard and low. I got it back, but I could tell from her easy movement that she had a lot more power than she was showing. We rallied for a bit before she surprised me with an up the line shot. My footwork wasn't perfect, so my return caught the net and dropped down. I swore internally, and I was surprised how pissed off I was that I let her win the point. I pulled out another ball and hit it over, with a little more force this time. "There we go! Now we can hit." Mitch hit the ball back with full force, and I was immediately on the defensive. Ten minutes later I was convinced of two things. First, Michelle Kirkpatrick was the most talented player I'd ever faced on a tennis court. Second, I could absolutely hit with her. I wasn't outclassed at all. "Service!" Mitch stood at her baseline, ready to serve. I took position a few feet behind my own, twirling my racquet in my hands. Mitch served hard up the T. I knew she was going to do that. One look at her, the way she stood, the set of her shoulders, it was all about aggression. Even knowing it was coming, though, it was hard, and the pace surprised me. Normally when I anticipated a shot like that I could get around the ball and drive it into the open court. This one I was lucky to just get back. I did get it deep, though, and she had to back up to hit her next forehand, and I was able to equalize in the rally. I absorbed her pace, getting each shot back near the baseline. After five or six exchanges I could tell she was getting frustrated. She took a big swing and sailed a forehand long.

"Love -- Fifteen." Mitch was fuming as I called the score and walked to the ad court. She netted her first serve. Her second rifled right up the T and my return wasn't as deep as I wanted it. Mitch stepped left and smacked a crosscourt winner that I had no chance at. "Oh, yeah! Fifteen all." There was no question regarding the challenge in Mitch's voice. A coach of mine had told me about a fencing term he'd heard of once called 'the dominance'. It referred to the person who was controlling the match, the one who decided the touches. I always felt that the concept translated well onto the tennis court. I could feel Mitch reaching for the dominance, her every shot trying to beat me into submission. I also knew that I didn't need to surrender it. I was more patient, more controlled. I used all the tricks in my bag, drop shots, lobs, short balls inviting her to the net before she wanted to. She came forward a lot already, consistent with her aggressive personality. It was often premature, though, and I repeatedly punished her with passing shots. That's not to say I kicked her butt. Her power was a real thing, and when I made the smallest mistake she was merciless in taking advantage. And damn, she just hit the ball hard, always taking my time away. We played for over an hour, splitting a set of ten games. By the end we had the whole team watching, and as we finished we got several appreciative nods from the upper class players. After that we split up and worked on serves, one of the assistant coaches just watching us as we hit and hit. I tried to show off my variety, Ts, wides, kickers. Mitch, I noticed, was just hitting bomb after bomb, trying to impress with velocity. That was so her. After the first week I felt great. I'd held my own with one of the top collegiate tennis teams in the country. I doubted I'd see much if any varsity court time this year, but I knew I'd be able to contribute on the practice courts, and in upcoming years who knows? I got an email on Friday morning, asking me to stop into Coach Holiday's office before practice. I was only a little nervous, I really didn't think she was going to cut me or anything, but maybe they just didn't see the potential in me. I knocked on her office door, and she waved me in. "Cindy, Hi"

"Hey, coach." She motioned toward a chair, and I set my bag down and sat. "I have to say I've been impressed. You've done some great work out there this week." My cheeks heated up as they stretched into a smile. "Thanks. It's been fun." "Good, good." She looked over at her computer. "So you know in college everyone plays doubles. I realize that wasn't the case in high school." I nodded. "I'd like you to partner with Michelle Kirkpatrick for the time being." My mouth dropped open, and I stammered for a second. "Is there a problem?" "No, ma'am, it's just, um." "Spit it out, Spencer." "We just don't always, ah, get along, ma'am." "I was under the impression that you, Michelle, and Carrie all work out together." I nodded as she continued to look at me. "Cindy, you play harder when you're facing her. I'm hoping that translates into doubles. And you're the best freshman tactician I've seen in years, something Michelle desperately needs to learn." She sat back in her chair. "We'll try it for a bit. I know you'll give it your best. See you at practice." The tone of her voice said I'd been dismissed, so I grabbed my bag and headed toward the locker room. I'd just pulled my red top on, my finger running once in disbelief over the embroidered G on the front. I still was in awe of what team I was playing for. My reverie ended when someone flopped onto the bench next to me. "Hey, partner, so how pissed are you?" Mitch was grinning widely. "I'm not. I'm fine." "Yeah, sure." She stood up and stripped off her T-shirt, revealing the toned abs below her sports bra. I pulled my eyes away to keep from staring, and I knew she was laughing at me inside. Turning her back to me she pushed her jeans down, giving me a good look at her backside. And again I found myself having to force my gaze away.

I jumped to my feet, speaking a little louder than I needed to. "Ok, I'll see you out there." Mitch laughed. "You're gonna go out like that? Not that I mind, you've got an incredible ass." I looked down and realized I'd never put on my skirt, and I'd nearly run out of the locker room in my undies. My eyes closed while my cheeks tried to match the red color of my top. I rectified the situation, while Mitch watched me out of the corner of her eye with a self-satisfied grin on her face. I scowled at her as I left, fully dressed this time, which only made her laugh. But I was not incognizant of the fact that her watching me dress made me feel strange inside. Out on the court I shook off the strange feelings I was having, stretching a bit before hitting a few with one of the upperclassmen. Mitch made it out onto the court at the same time as the coaches gathered us around. "Ok, everybody gather round. It's Friday, and you old timers know what that means. Doubles practice. So, Kirkpatrick and Spencer, I want you to work with Kenner and Williamson. Mitchell and Kolokhotsova, I want you..." My mind tuned out the rest. We'd been put up against some of the upper class women. They were already talking together as they made their way out to the court, probably plotting our demise. Mitch came up behind me. "Hey, we got this, come on." I nodded and jogged out with her, some of the nervous energy draining away as I began to move my body. They served first, and we only got one point during the game. Mitch started the first game for us. She hit a great serve up the T, but Sarah Williamson, our opponent, anticipated and swatted the ball crosscourt into the alley, well out of my reach. When I turned, I saw that Mitch was playing too close to the center, and she didn't have a chance at it either. "Love -- Fifteen." They called out the score and gave each other a high five while I jogged back to Mitch, who was kicking the ground. "Hit this one out wide, huh?" Mitch scowled. "I hate serving wide." I knew why, wide serves were slower.

I tried to harden my gaze. "I know, and so does everyone else on the team, so they're playing you up the middle. And take a few steps to the side. It's not singles; you don't want to serve from the middle. It leaves the alley too open." Mitch looked for a moment like she wanted to say something, but in the end she just nodded. "Ok, I'm going to look to poach if I can." I jogged back to the net, getting low and spinning my racquet. I looked back, and saw Mitch stand in the middle again, before thinking a second and taking a couple small steps to her left. I smiled, part of me shocked she'd actually listened. The serve was out wide, and our opponent, who'd been cheating middle, didn't even get a frame on it.. "Nice!" I jogged back and gave Mitch five, who was smiling now. "See? Do it again." "You sure?" "You need the practice." Mitch nodded. This time her wide serve was just barely out. She took a second ball and hit it in the same place, this time good, but not as hard. I'd shown my opponent that I was cheating slightly into the alley, but slid back to the center as soon as Mitch hit the ball. Sarah tried to take her forehand crosscourt, but I was already headed that way, and volleyed the ball away easily. Mitch was pumping her fist slightly. "That was awesome. You baited her, didn't you?" "Of course." "Another one out wide?" "Yeah, one more. Then we'll switch it up." Mitch ended up holding her serve, and I got to hit some more volleys, something I didn't do a lot of normally. Mitch was like a loaded gun, and it was fast becoming obvious that it was my job to point her in the right direction before she went off. For her part she was always pumping me up. I hate to admit it, but I had fun. She just made me laugh, with her childlike exuberance combined with a relentless optimism. It was very refreshing. We actually won our set, breaking serve in the tenth game on an awesome series of volleys at the net by both of us. We each gave a scream of victory and

embraced, and I didn't think anything of it until we broke apart. That had, um, felt nice. After practice I was talking to Carrie. "I think we did well, won our set. How 'bout you guys?" Carrie shook her head. "Not so good." "What's it like playing with, um, what's her name?" "Lidke, her name is Lidke. She's from the Czech Republic. I think she's shy, doesn't have a lot of confidence in her English yet. She's good, though." Mitch plopped down between us. "Great first week! Which means it's party time!" I shook my head. "I have plans with Ethan." "Mr. GQ? Bring him along." "You just want him to come so you can make fun of him." Mitch shrugged. "I'll admit that's part of his charm." Carrie laughed. "You're terrible. Did you have something in mind, or was it just, y'know, 'party'?" "As a matter of fact, the Beta Delts are having a Winter Fest tonight." Carrie shook her head. "That's a target rich environment for you" "Maybe. So many curious, so little time. It's a curse, I tell you." I huffed and Mitch fixed her little half smile on me. "I don't make anyone do anything they don't want to do. I just help them do everything they've always wanted to do." "Well, I want to go out with my boyfriend, and you can keep your sordid activities to yourself." I put as much admonishment in the statement as I could, but I had to turn away before I started laughing at the look of almost girlish glee on Mitch's face. "So no sordid activities in store tonight for poor Evan?" "Ethan." I scowled at her. "And if there were I wouldn't tell you."

"Whatever. Enjoy your five minutes of fun!" She pulled her bag over her shoulder as I turned back to my locker. By the time I realized my boyfriend had just been insulted she'd already started walking away, signing an off color rhyme. Carrie laughed at my outraged expression. "You, know if you wouldn't get so discombobulated around her she'd tease you less." "Sorry," I took a breath and groaned in frustration, "she just pushes my buttons." "I know, and so does she." "Why does she do it? Why does she have to be so..." "So Mitch?" Carrie shook her head. "My dad always told me that boys only teased the girls they liked. Maybe it's true for butches, too." "That does not help." *** Mitch had been wrong. It'd lasted longer than five minutes, but fortunately not by much. My roommate was gone for the weekend, and I'd taken advantage and practically dragged Ethan back to my room. The sad thing is, I was doing it just to get even with Mitch. Damn it, she wasn't the only one who could have great sex. In theory at least, because I certainly hadn't. Ethan had, apparently, at least judging by his contented snoring. I just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, my mind traitorously wondering what Mitch was doing. I imagined her with a chestnut brunette, dancing slowly to some dreamy ballad, the girl's expression rife with innocent wonder and desire. But try as I might, I could not picture Mitch's countenance as predatory or mean spirited. Those things were so alien to who Mitch was that the thought was inconceivable. Instead she was wearing her normal, enthusiastic, friendly smile. Ethan grunted in his sleep and rolled toward me. The twin bed gave us very little room, and he ended up lying half on top of me, his arm around my middle. I tried to gently push him away. He was still all sweaty, and his body spray stank. Eventually I managed to get him to face the other direction. I really wished he'd just get up and go back to his place. I felt a tear in my eye. This was not how someone was supposed to feel after making love.

The girl I pictured with Mitch swam up before my consciousness. She was going to be happy and satisfied, her lover would make sure of it. She was so lucky, and with that thought I finally drifted off to sleep. *** I woke alone in my bed, pulling my covers over my head to push away the morning light. I reached over to my desk and found my phone. It was showing one percent battery, and I just had time to glance at the time and see Ethan had sent me a text before it died. I finally managed to find my charger, flopping back down on my bed after I plugged it in. I was so glad I'd woken up alone, and my heart was in knots. What the hell was wrong with me? I'd used Ethan last night, just used him, and to do what? To get even with someone I didn't even like, whom I had no reason to even be mad at? I felt dirty. I buried my phone under my pillow and sat up, wrapping my comforter around my shoulders. I looked at my digital alarm clock, the bright red numbers traitorously showing ten after eight. I was due in the gym in under an hour, where I'd have to face Mitch. I dragged my miserable carcass to the shower. I could still smell Ethan's body spray on me, as well as stale sex, and I wanted it gone. As the water ran over my shoulders I felt a tear escape my eyes. This was not the person I wanted to be. For crying out loud, I didn't need to compete with Michelle Kirkpatrick. If she wanted to sleep with every coed in the freshman class, that was not my problem. When I made it to the gym, only a couple minutes late, thank you very much, Mitch and Carrie were cracking up over on the mats while stretching. "... So he comes back with the drink she didn't want, and it's like 'Vicky, what the hell?' So I was like 'She's moved on to better things, man. Get over it'. So he rounded on me, like he was gonna take a swing. I just stared him down. He backed off." "Jesus, what if he had taken a swing?" Carrie was staring up at her with awe. That kind of made me mad, not sure why. Mitch just shrugged. "He was drunk. I'd've had him singing falsetto and hopping up and down in two seconds."

I gave a derisive laugh as I sat down and put the soles of my feet together in front of me, legs in a butterfly position. "You don't think so, Spencer?" "I didn't say anything." I intentionally looked away, but I could see Mitch shake her head. Carrie was just grinning. "So was she very appreciative?" "You could say that. After the jackass left she leaned forward and asked 'What do I owe you for my rescue?' I just said that I'd settle for a dance. She was MORE than happy to oblige." I scowled at her. "Another notch on your bedpost. You must be so proud." "She left happy. How was true love with Mr. GQ last night? Did he ring all your bells?" My mouth just hung open, and I felt like I'd been stabbed through the heart. I took a deep breath and stood up. "That's none of your damn business." I turned on my heel and stomped off back toward the locker room, grabbing my bag and wiping a traitorous tear from my eye. I was out the door and down the walk moments later, turning through a quad back towards my dorm. "Spencer! Hey, Spencer, wait up." It was Mitch, I could hear her running to catch up. "Go away, Mitch." I tried to walk faster, my arms crossed protectively over my chest. "Cindy, please." The sound of my first name made me stop, but I couldn't arrest the steady flow of tears. She caught up to me, but I still didn't turn around. "Cindy, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to upset you. Really." "Thank you." I made myself look at her, and those lustrous blue eyes were heavy with real concern. I always assumed she didn't like me. So why was she here? "Are you okay? Did something happen with Ethan last night?" My lip quivered, and I looked over my shoulder towards the dorm where the whole debacle had taken place.

"Okay, Okay, never mind. You don't have to tell me. Besides, you didn't hear the end of my story." "So you didn't sleep with her?" Now it was Mitch's turn to look embarrassed. "No, I did, but when I woke up she was getting dressed. I asked if I could call her, and, well, she said 'no'." "What?" I had this idea in my head that once a girl gave in to Mitch's charms, she was probably converted for life, with Mitch being the one doing the leaving. "Why not?" "She said it was great, but she wasn't a lesbian. Which is odd, given what we'd been doing just a few hours before." "I'm sorry." "Yeah, well." Mitch shrugged. "C'mon, how about we go back, pump some iron, and forget all about our problems?" She stepped beside me and put her arm around my shoulders. "I promise I won't talk about it any more." I looked up into her beautiful blue eyes. "Are you capable of talking about anything else?" That made Mitch grin. "Sure, I could give you a rundown and critique of Professor Lieberman's assorted toupees from this week, or repeat some of the asinine questions that one stupid kid asked in Freshman Comp. Ooh, or I could tell you about how shitty I'm doing in College Algebra this semester. You'd enjoy that." That made me giggle. "I thought you took that last semester?" Mitch looked off into the distance. "Yeah, I did. And yet...." We started walking back toward the gym. She kept up a string on inane topics, each one making me laugh. She also didn't take her arm from around my shoulders. Strangely enough, it never occurred to me to mind. *** As we went through the week, Mitch ratcheted back her teasing, although she did take any opportunity to talk to me, trying to make me laugh. She usually succeeded. I think she was trying to make sure we were Okay. It still flabbergasted me that she cared at all.

On the court, though, we were quickly becoming a formidable team, and I was starting to really look forward to Friday doubles practice. And I hated to admit it, but playing with Mitch was improving my singles as well. I was an analytical player. Analytics plus execution equaled success in my book. I always strove to hit the best, highest percentage shot available, and I did it well. Mitch, on the other hand, hit whatever shot she damn well felt like whenever she felt like it, and that drove me crazy playing her. I could never predict what she was going to do, which was exceedingly uncomfortable for my ordered, organized brain. Then it hit me, sometimes the best shot in a particular point wasn't the best shot for the match. Sometimes I needed to take chances just to stay unpredictable. Even if I lose that point, it'll pay off down the line. When I started doing that I was greeted with indisputable proof as to how well my teammates had been able to anticipate me, as they were frequently wrong footed when I hit that lower percentage, up the line backhand. At the same time, Mitch would ask me questions about what I would have done in certain situations, and I could tell she was starting to think more on the court. Despite her protestations to the contrary, she was not stupid by any stretch. Truth be told, she was far more perceptive about people than I was. She could tell when an opponent was tired, or getting frustrated, or losing faith in one of their shots. And she was nearly always correct. *** Finally the season was on us, and I was so nervous. Sad, because I wasn't even going to be playing varsity. The team we were facing Saturday was just a smaller, local school, one we should beat easily, but they were bringing four extra girls so we could have a J.V. match, and Coach Holiday wanted Mitch and me both to play. Even if it wasn't going to count for real, I was going to put on a Georgia Lady Bulldogs uniform, step out on a tennis court and represent UGA. Breathe, just keep breathing. Sitting in the locker room before practice on Thursday I was bouncing my leg nervously. Carrie was sitting just a few feet away, already wearing her game face. She was playing number six singles, so her match was for real, and she'd beat out two upperclassmen to earn that spot.

I didn't want to bother her, so I just went back to staring at my locker. I was so lost in my own thoughts I didn't even hear Mitch until she plopped down next to me. I looked at her. "You ready for this?" My brow crinkled, she did not seem her usual self. "I guess. Probably be my only chance to play, so might as well enjoy it." "You OK?" "I'm fine. Let's go." Once we got on court it was very clear that Mitch was not fine. While we were warming up she missed an easy forehand, whacking it into the net. That wasn't terribly unusual, but her throwing her racquet down afterwards was. She was out of sorts for the whole three hours, stomping around like a saber-tooth tiger with a fang-ache. I let it go throughout the practice, just pretending that nothing was wrong. She fended off several concerned inquiries from other players and two assistant coaches with a surly dismissive attitude that was very unlike her. But I was still sure she did actually want to talk about whatever it was. And weirdly I got the sense from her escalating bad attitude that she wanted to talk about it with me. After we had showered she was sitting by her locker, so I sat next to her. "You gonna tell me what's going on?" "There's nothing going on." She stuffed her practice outfit back in her bag with far more violence than it required. "Uh-huh. Come on, I'm your partner out there. You can trust me." "Yeah, you won't have to worry about that much longer. Should be happy about that." She grabbed her bag and headed toward the door as I called after her. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She didn't slow down, banging through the door with vehemence. I chased after her, the situation reversed from a few weeks ago.

"Mitch!" She slowed, but kept going. Gosh, this was stupid. I did my best to channel my father, since when he spoke people listened. "Damn it, Michelle Kirkpatrick, you stop running away right now and get back here and talk to me!" Amazingly Mitch stopped and turned. I stood with my hands on my hips, staring her down, meeting her angry physiognomy with a supremely pissed off look of my own. I was also trying to put a hefty dose of 'take no shit' into my face as well. Mitch fumed for a few seconds, before breaking off our staring contest by looking down at her feet. She started to move back towards me, and I took pity on her by meeting her halfway. "Mitch, what's going on?" "Nothing. It's not your problem." "What particular part of 'partners' are you unclear about? If something's affecting your game, it affects me." I actually reached out and lifted her chin with my finger, feeling that strange warmth I always did whenever I touched her. "And I'm your friend. I don't like when my friends are upset." There were actual tears in her eyes, but she still managed to scoff. "Since when are we friends? You hate me." "I do not. You just, um, take a little getting used to." She smiled a little half smile, which made me all fuzzy inside. "And we're friends from right now." That got a real laugh. "Spencer, you are something else." I put my hand on her shoulder. "Ok, rule number one, my friends do not call me by my last name." She blushed and nodded. "Number two, my friends tell me when they have a problem." Mitch took a deep breath. "I flunked my damn algebra test again." "The class you're retaking?" "Yeah. I did worse on the first exam than I did last semester. If I can't pass this stupid class I won't be eligible next year. I'll lose my scholarship." Mitch shook her head in frustration. "I mean, I knew I was crap at math in high school but I at least got by, y'know? And the grad student they've got teaching my section barely speaks English." Mitch sat down heavily on a bench "I'm a goner."

It was just wrong. Mitch was supposed to be happy and sassy. Seeing her depressed like this, well it just broke me. I sat down next to her and took her hand. "Hey, look at me. We can fix this." Mitch rolled her eyes, but I kept going, raising my volume. "We CAN, and I can help." "What are you going to do? Take my tests for me?" "No, but I'm going to tutor you. Now, is there any chance for extra credit, or anything?" Mitch took a deep breath. "We can turn in a corrected exam for quarter credit. But even if I do I'll still fail." "Doesn't matter, it's something. So you wanna hear my plan? Or do you just want to mope around until you flunk out?" "Alright, professor, what do we do?" "Well for starters you're going to put the test away and not think about it for the next two days. Then, we're going to meet up Sunday and go through your exam so you can get the bonus. Then I'm going to tutor you twice a week." "Seriously? Why would you do that?" "I told you, we're friends." She gave my hand a squeeze. I'd forgotten I was still holding it. "Thanks, Cindy, that, um, it means a lot." *** As I lay in bed that night I stared at my hand. When Mitch had let it go I'd felt a definite feeling of loss. It'd been so weird, seeing her vulnerable like that. I needed to help her. The thought that she might leave, that I'd never see her again, it made me feel sick inside. I remembered the way she'd smiled at the end. It's too bad she insisted on wearing her hair so short and with such masculine clothes. She really could be very pretty, just a little bit of make-up, maybe some lip-gloss. I mean those eyes were incredible, and that smile, damn. A hand slipped under my top, sliding up and touching the base of my breast. My eyes closed in pleasure, Mitch's face grinning shyly across the bench we'd shared, her hand warm in mine. She was leaning closer, and so was I. My eyes snapped open, and I pulled out from under my top. That was weird. Ethan was taking me out after the match, so I tried to focus on that. As I

slept, however, it was a pair of perfect blue eyes, rather than Ethan's soft brown ones, that floated through my dreams. *** I had a devil of a time concentrating on my lessons on Friday, which was a definite tribute to how nervous I was. I'd always prided myself on my ability to concentrate, especially on subjects I didn't like. You didn't become valedictorian by slacking off in class, even at a small school like mine. But today it seemed impossible, and by the time my calc recitation let out at three I was ready to sprint all the way to the practice facility. I made myself walk back to my dorm, packing up my bag and sitting on the edge of my bed, legs bouncing with nervous energy. Practice started in the classroom, where the coaches went over timetables and what to expect on match day. I absorbed everything they said with wideeyed intensity. Mitch had sat down next to me, and even she was totally engrossed in what was going on. Once we made it out onto the courts the assistant coaches split up with the various varsity starters and spoke with them about what they could expect from their matchup on Saturday. My match wasn't important enough for that I guess, so I just kept hitting with Mitch. I glanced over to the next court, and was watching Carrie, who was in deep discussion with one of the coaches. I hesitated, ears straining since I could almost hear what they were saying. I admit a bit of jealousy, as I badly wanted to be playing a varsity match. "Spencer!" I jumped, seeing Coach Holiday, coming up from behind me. "Ma'am?" "Just letting you know that we don't really have anything on your opponent. She's a freshman, like you. We did the normal searches, but couldn't get any tape on her. You're such a solid player, I think that's an advantage. If she's been able to find anything on you, I imagine she's having a very uncomfortable night." Coach patted me on the shoulder, and I beamed at the compliment. "Thanks, Coach." "You're gonna do great, keep breathing, keep your feet moving." I nodded and bounced a little on my toes.

"Alright, I'm going to go talk to Kirkpatrick. I'd like you to work on that first serve up the T some, alright?" "You got it, Coach." She nodded and moved to the other side of the court while I went back to hit some serves. I kept an eye on Mitch, and she was smiling and nodding along with whatever coach was saying. As soon as it was over, she let out a whoop. "Alright, let's go! We are gonna kick some ass tomorrow!" I smiled wickedly at her. "Why wait 'til tomorrow? Service!" The mood in the locker room after practice was infectiously enthusiastic, with a bit of singing, a lot of cheering, and an unfortunate amount of dancing. Everybody was super ready for the season to start. The bad thing was that we were under strict orders not to party, no alcohol, but we still managed to have a good time at dinner, Carrie, Mitch, and I. "So ladies, what are we going to do tonight?" Mitch flopped down on the bench next to us. We ended up settling for pizza and a movie back at Mitch's. Her roommate was dating a townie, and basically lived in her boyfriend's apartment on the weekends. We decided to watch 'Wimbledon', the most tennis-y movie we had access to. I smirked at Mitch. "It's got straight romance in it. You gonna be OK?" "Hell yeah, Kirsten Dunst. That girl is Dee-licious. And a shower scene." Carrie and I both laughed. Carrie climbed into Mitch's desk chair and began to divvy up the pizza while Mitch started up the movie. I crawled onto the foot of Mitch's bed, which made me feel a little odd, especially when she bounced over next to me. We ate and watched, and I was very aware of Michelle's presence next to me. I mean, it wasn't anything she did, she laughed at the movie and made snarky comments about the unimpressive realism of the tennis scenes. She never tried to touch me, and the closest thing to flirting I noticed was when she asked me if I wanted another soda. Maybe she sat a little closer to me, and maybe she looked over when I spoke, and maybe I did blush some when she glanced at me.

The movie finished a little after ten, and Carrie and I were walking together back to our dorm. "You and Mitch seem to finally be getting along." "Yeah, playing together's helped. I guess she's not as bad as I thought." I hesitated. "I'm gonna start tutoring her in Math." "Really?" "Yeah, she flunked an exam. That's why she was in such a temper the other day." "You nervous about spending that much time alone with a lesbian?" I was lucky it was dark, and she couldn't see my cheeks redden. "No. Why would I? She knows I'm straight." "Ha, like that's ever stopped her." "She wouldn't do that." Carrie just kept walking. "Yeah, you're probably right. Besides, it's not like she'd get anywhere." That made my breath catch in my throat. Carrie was right. She wouldn't get anywhere. But she wasn't going to try. I wasn't sure how that made me feel. *** I woke up the next day focused, ready. It was match day. I got to the locker rooms thirty minutes before we'd been told to, jumping onto one of the stationary bikes to warm up. Mitch was there less than five minutes later. "You ready, partner?" I looked at her, her gorgeous blue eyes filled with icy fire. "Absolutely. Let's do it." Time seemed to accelerate. Minutes later I was getting dressed, looking at myself in the mirror for the first time in a Georgia uniform, a white tank with a big Georgia 'G' on the front and a red skirt. Mitch was wearing the T-shirt and shorts, not surprising. Then we headed out onto the court. It was the first time I'd been on the stadium courts. We were out on the smaller set of three, but still. It helped that there was virtually no one in the stands. Of course, that no one included Ethan.

"Where's Mr. GQ?" I spun around. "Mitch, please." "Yeah, sorry Cindy. C'mon." We went out onto the court and started to warm up. A few minutes later the other team's girls came out. Mitch's face immediately intensified into something very different. "The sheep are here. Time to get out the sheers." She spun her racket in her hand, and despite my disappointment I couldn't help but giggle. We made our way onto the court and started to warm up with the other team. I did keep glancing up into the stands as we continued, and it was obvious in the way I was playing. "Cindy, I'm not usually the one who has to tell you to focus." "Right, Mitch, sorry." She jogged over. "Hey. We got a job to do. He'll either show or he won't. You can't control it now. You and me now, alright?" "Yeah, okay. Right, I'm okay." I nodded vigorously, trying to convince myself mostly. I tried to focus and went back to what I was doing. Eventually we flipped for serve and started the match. Luckily the first service game was Mitch's, so I didn't have to perform like that right off the bat. Instead I got to react to the return, which came right back to me and I was able to put away an easy volley. That helped, a lot. I jogged back to Mitch, who gave me five and whispered into my ear. "This time into the body. Soften 'em up some." I arched my eyebrow, which made Mitch give me a wicked grin. "I know. Strategy from me. You're a bad influence on me, Spencer." I chuckled under my breath as I jogged back to the net. Mitch was as good as her word, curving one into the other returner. She tried to get out of the way, but the serve just ate her up. She tried to get the shot up the alley, but she didn't have anything on it, so I had another very satisfying chance to smack away a winner. After that I was in the groove. Mitch and I dominated our match, winning the set 6-1. I didn't think about Ethan once throughout. I did notice that he still

wasn't there until we were preparing for our singles match. Mitch caught me looking up into the stands. "Hey, head still in the game, Spencer?" "Yeah, I just,..." I huffed into the air. "Why wouldn't he be here?" "Hey, how long have you been dreaming about this?" She waved her hand around at the stands and the courts. I shrugged my shoulders. "Seriously, how long have you been wanting to wear this uniform, to play for this school?" "Since I was eight. The first time my aunt and uncle took me to see a match here. I've always wanted to play on these courts." "That's right. And how long have you cared about one Ethan Johnson?" "Alright, I see your point. I'm good." She looked like she didn't believe me, which was probably fair, but I forced myself to concentrate as I went out to warm up for my singles. The girl I was facing was a lefty, which meant everything changed. Shots to a normal player's backhand were to her forehand, and vice versa. Her serve would spin differently, and her angles would not be what I was used to. I spent the warm up recalculating everything in my head and planning what I wanted to do. It was the perfect distraction. I won the toss and elected to serve, bouncing the ball between the court and my racquet as I walked back to the baseline. I looked down at the 'G' on my top, the red skirt swirling around my legs. I was a Lady Bulldog, a tennis player for the University of Georgia. I would not let down my teammates, my coach, my school. I felt the fire race through as I raised my eyes to the girl who had the audacity to stand across the net from me. She had no chance. *** "Hell, yes!" The smile that split my face at Mitch's whoop felt amazing. She gave me a high five, and we embraced as I laughed in victory. "Spencer, you were awesome." "I was, wasn't I?" "Damn right, you were. She's still wondering what hit her." I tried not to look too exultant, but it was hard. It had taken a few games to get used to the way her ball spun, but I did, and I was able to be surgical in some up the line

rallies, forcing her to stay on her backhand, which was definitely a weaker shot for her. Add to that the fact she didn't like coming to the net, I was able to keep her on a string. During every changeover I was able to watch some of Mitch's match, and she also seemed to have things well in hand, her power simply overwhelming her smaller opponent. Back in the locker room Coach Holiday was very complimentary, and the rest of the girls, who were busily preparing for their far more important matches, each gave us an ovation. It wasn't until I'd sat down in front of my locker and taken a few deep breaths that I remembered Ethan had never shown up to my match. I pulled my phone out from my bag. Ethan -- Hey babe. Can't wait to see you play! The look I gave my phone could likely have curdled milk. Me -- You missed it. It's over. It was at ten. Ethan -- What? No, I checked, it's at two, on the website. Me - That's varsity. I don't play then. I played earlier, like I told you. There was a pause for a minute. Ethan - God you're right. I'm sorry. I can still come, we can watch the other matches with you. Me -- I'm watching them with the rest of the team. I'll text you after. With that I stuffed my phone back into my locker with a huff, just as someone sat down next to me. "Everything OK?" Mitch's voice was kinder than I'd expected. "Yeah. Ethan's not coming." I wiped a tear away. "Go ahead, make a joke." "Ok. What do you call a girl standing in the middle of a Tennis Court?" I turned to her, a confused look on my face. "I don't know." "Annette." I chuckled and smiled in spite of myself. "When does Serena Williams go to bed?"

I shook my head. "Tennish." "Oh my god, stop." "Where do ghosts play tennis?" "No! I refuse!" I plugged my ears and ran out of the locker room giggling. Mitch ran after me, laughing. "C'mon, this is grade-A material!" I couldn't help but grin. "No it isn't. It's horrible and you know it." "Maybe, but it made you smile. And that's worth it." There was real sincerity in her eyes. I was touched. I cocked my head to the side. "Thanks, Michelle." Suddenly Mitch looked unsure of herself, and maybe a little embarrassed. It was adorable. I was struck by her genuineness. No, that's not right. Mitch was always genuine, almost to a fault. She, um, well, I think she actually cared about me, and making me smile truly did mean something to her. We really were friends. We walked out into the stadium together. Carrie was warming up on the court to our left, so we headed to that section of the stands. We sat down, and Mitch immediately put her hands to her mouth and yelled out. "Hey, Mitchell! You suck!" Carrie turned and made a face at us while I giggled and waved. She turned back to her opponent, and I leaned toward Mitch and pushed her a little with my shoulder. "You're terrible." "Hey, can't have her getting a big head, now. That's my job." I laughed. I couldn't help it. Of course, once the match actually started Mitch was completely supportive of Carrie, in her typically loud and boisterous way. I, conversely, watched mostly in silence, analyzing every point. What can I say? It's just the way I'm wired. I pointed towards Carrie's opponent, who was preparing to serve. "See, in the ad court, when she turns her foot out she's serving wide. Every time." Mitch shook her head. "How do you notice stuff like that?"

"How do you not? I'm always watching for tells in my opponent's serve." "So what are mine?" "Yours? Easy." I looked back down at the match. "You know when you throw the ball up in the air? "Yeah?" "It means you're serving up the T." Mitch's face cracked into a smile and she nudged me with her shoulder. "Brat." I couldn't help laughing, and we got a dirty look from Coach Holiday down on the court for talking during the point. Mitch shot me an exaggerated grimace. "We're in trouble now." "I'm going to go down and see if I can get back in her good graces." As Carrie finished holding her serve I snuck down to the edge and signaled for Coach Holiday, who jogged over. I relayed my insight, and Coach's face went from annoyed to thoughtful. "I'll keep an eye on it. You and Kirkpatrick are going to behave yourselves, yes? "Yes, ma'am. Sorry." She actually smiled. "It's okay. I was eighteen once, too. You seem to be getting along, at least." "Yes ma'am." I felt my cheeks heat up. Why was I blushing? "It's been good." Coach nodded. "You both played well today. Now go on." I headed back up the small stands and sat next to Mitch. "So, did she tell you how amazing you are for picking that up?" Mitch's tone was slightly mocking. "Stop it. It was important." "Hey, Spencer, you got a little something..." She rubbed her nose. I stuck my tongue out at her, and we went back to watching the match.

Sure enough, Coach called a coaching time-out during the next changeover and Carrie broke her opponent's serve every game but one for the rest of her match by cheating one way or the other on the ad-court. Carrie won easily, and we were all in a good mood leaving the complex later. Carrie bounced up and down on her toes, the energy of her first collegiate win still coursing through her veins. "So, what are we doing tonight?" "I don't know about you guys, but I feel like dancing." Mitch bit her lower lip and started to move her shoulders to her own personal rhythm, making us both laugh. "That sounds good to me. Cindy?" Carrie's eyes were eager, but I gave her a non-committal smile. "I was supposed to text Ethan after the matches. Mitch harrumphed at that idea. "Y'know, he 'forgot' to come see you play. You could just, I don't know, 'forget' to text him." Carrie nodded, enthusiastically supporting Mitch's idea. I shook my head. "All right, fine. Where are we going?" Mitch put her arms around both our shoulders. "First, we're going for dinner, because I'm starving. Kicking ass is hard work, after all." Half an hour later we were at one of the local eateries sharing a huge plate of chili cheese fries while they prepared our burgers. I didn't have much money for splurges like this, but I figured this was a special occasion. Carrie washed down a bite with some soda. "God, this is amazing. I haven't let myself have anything like this since the season started." "Can't let yourself go without for too long, girl." Mitch smiled knowingly. "Speaking of letting yourself indulge, how's it going with Johnny? Let him light your fire yet?" Carrie grimaced and shook her head. "No, it's over. Just no spark there. He's already moved on." I tried to make a consoling face. "I'm sorry Carrie." She shrugged. "Maybe I'll meet someone tonight." "I'll point any eligible girls your way." Mitch smirked.

Carrie shook her head. "Gee, thanks, Mitch, but that's not going to help matters." "If you're sure..." "She is." I interrupted in a huff. "You're just going to have to accept that we're straight, Michelle. I know it pains you to hear that." Mitch gave a resigned sigh. "It does. I just feel so bad for both of you, having to have sex with men." She made a face, like a three-year-old being forced to eat her cauliflower. "Maybe someday you'll come to your senses." We headed out to a local club with live music and dancing. After getting our hands stamped as minors we entered and I was a little overwhelmed. I'd been to a few, well, I guess you'd call them country-dances as a kid, but I'd never seen anything like this before. The lights were low, but there was plenty of neon glowing from the ceiling and from people on the dance floor itself. Luckily it was still relatively early, so we were able to find a table. What really worried me was the possibility of Mitch trying to score booze, as she seemed the type. Sure enough she headed off toward the bar, where she shouldn't be able to get anything stronger than Coca-Cola. I asked for a Sprite, trying to be very clear that I wasn't in the mood for any playful spiking of my drinks. I tried to relax and take in my surroundings, watching the mass of young bodies dancing on the floor. The girls were wearing impossibly short skirts, bodies glistening with sweat and showing more skin than my admittedly conservative bathing suit did. The guys I saw were wearing looks of naked hunger that sent a shiver down my spine, and not in a good way. I shouldn't have to worry about that. I had a boyfriend. Where the hell was Mitch? I looked toward the bar where I saw her chatting with a girl in a halter top with long dark hair and a big tattoo on her shoulder. Eventually the bartender slid three glasses next to her. Mitch picked them up and nodded toward our table before standing up. She leaned forward and whispered something in the girl's ear, which made her smile and nod. When Mitch got back to our table she dropped off our drinks. "Alright ladies, have fun, I've got to get back." I looked at her askance. "Already? Geez, Mitch. That was fast."

"Spencer, she was eyeing me all the way to the bar. And she just wants to dance. It's why I came, after all. Bye." I watched her swagger back toward the girl, feeling my mood sour as she went. She smiled as Mitch approached, standing and slipping her arm into my friend's as they made their way to the dance floor. They disappeared into the mass of bodies, and I forced myself to look away and take a sip of my Sprite. It tasted normal, so there wasn't anything funny there, at least. Carrie was moving to the music in her seat, and her gyrations seemed to summon a couple of guys like magic. "You want to dance?" One held his hand out to Carrie, and she took it and disappeared into the maw. His buddy looked at me with a smile that I'm sure he thought was winning, but it just made me sick inside. "I'm sorry, I'm just here with my friends." "They're out dancing." "No, thanks." He held up his hands. "Okay." With that he disappeared, leaving me to my bad mood. After fifteen minutes Carrie reappeared. "Are you still sitting here? Come dance." "I have a boyfriend. And that is a total meat market out there and you know it." "Maybe, but a lot of it is Grade A beef." That made me giggle, and Carrie took my hand. "C'mon, one dance. I'll keep my hands to myself, I promise." I followed her out onto the dance floor and started to move to the music. For a moment I was nervous people would think bad things about the two of us, but we weren't the only girls dancing together without being obviously 'together' by any stretch. I was just starting to enjoy myself when I saw Mitch. She was dancing with that girl still, and in a very different way than Carrie and I were. Mitch's arms were around her waist, pulling her tight, and their bodies were moving together. They were staring into each other's eyes, and Mitch edged forward and kissed her partner. The other girl leaned into the contact, and I crashed into the

guy dancing next to me. Luckily the young man was steady on his feet, and he kept both himself and me from falling. The people around us parted slightly to give us space, and I took advantage to stumble off the floor, with Carrie following me. I made it back to our table blushing furiously. I'm not sure if Mitch had even noticed me, although I'd have been shocked if she hadn't, given the commotion I'd made. Unfortunately, I had the question answered after only a few moments, as Mitch made her way over. I expected her to be laughing at me, but her eyes were just concerned. "You okay, Cindy?" I tried to laugh it off. "I'm fine, just a klutz, I guess. I'm not used to all this." I waved at the undulating mass of humanity on the dance floor, still pulsing to the ever-present beat of the music. The girl Mitch had been dancing with was standing to the side, a concerned look on her face. Not for me, I didn't think, but she did want my friend's attention back on her. I pushed a smile across my face. "You should go back to your friend. You looked like you were having fun." Mitch's face told me she didn't believe me, but she didn't push the issue. Carrie emerged from the crowd a few moments later, and I had to repeat my assurances to her. Mitch drew away and went back to the girl she'd been dancing with. I watched them until they were out of sight before turning to Carrie, who was looking at me strangely. "What?" Carrie shook her head. "Nothing. Come back out and dance?" I shook my head. "I think I twisted my ankle a little. I better sit a few out." I was lying, but I didn't want to see Mitch again. So I sat, listening to the music, watching the couples move on the dance floor. *** I realized the next morning that I hadn't once wished that Ethan had been there so I could have had someone to dance with. I'd had plenty of opportunities, but eventually my standoffish attitude succeeded in that the guys gave up trying. I slept in the next morning. I hadn't gotten back particularly late, but I'd tossed and turned most of the night. The image of Mitch kissing that girl kept appearing in my head every time I closed my eyes. Why the hell did that bother

me so much? I'd been taught from the cradle that homosexuality was wrong, unnatural, and against God's plan, but I also knew that it wasn't that simple. I couldn't imagine Michelle Kirkpatrick with a man. That would be unnatural. But still it was so difficult to think about anything else. I wondered if she'd gone home with that girl. If she had, they'd likely had a lot more fun last night than I did. I heard Lana, my roommate, gather up her toiletries and head to the showers a little before ten, and I just lay there, staring at the ceiling until my phone chimed half an hour later. Mitch -- Just wondering if you're still willing to help me w/ algebra. If not I understand. LMK. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back into the pillow. I'd forgotten all about that. If I went she was going to tell me all the sordid details about that girl last night. My brain wasn't working properly yet, but I knew I didn't want that. My phone chimed again. Mitch -- I REALLY need your help, though. She concluded with the brainexploding emoji, and I couldn't help but laugh. I'd promised, so I texted back that I'd see her in an hour. We met at the Bulldog Café for lunch, and I followed Mitch's lead by getting a burger and onion rings instead of the healthier options I usually chose. "No salad?" Mitch's eyes were twinkling with laughter. I blushed and repeated her own words back to her. "There's lettuce, tomato and onion. Besides, I'm hungry, and if I'm going to try to teach you math I'm going to need my strength." "True that." Mitch took a pull from her soda, and I laughed. I'd been dreading seeing her, but once she was near me I couldn't help relaxing. And she didn't once bring up what had happened with that girl last night. Maybe she was just trying to keep me from running out. When we finished Mitch nodded toward her dorm. "So, you want to head back to my room to work?" I shook my head "No way, too many distractions. I'm going to introduce you to a special building on campus. It's called the li-bra-ry." I said the last word with as much condescension as I could muster.

Mitch just made a face at me. "I know what a library is. Where it is, not so much." Fifteen minutes later we were ensconced at a table on the fourth floor of Main Library. You should have seen Mitch's eyes bug out when I started drawing on the walls. She really hadn't been here much, and had no idea they were all huge dry erase boards. She'd had the most trouble on her original test in solving quadratic equations, particularly with factoring. After we corrected her test, I quickly made up a few additional problems for her to work in the style of the quadratics she'd missed in order to instill some confidence. "See, these just take forever, and I don't know how to start." "OK, you start with this number." I circled the constant on the right of the three terms. "You need two numbers that multiply to be this number, and add to this number." I pointed to the coefficient of the x term. "Assuming that the x squared coefficient is one, that is. It was on this test, so we'll stick with that. So the constant here is eight. What numbers multiply to get eight?" "Two and four." "And?" Mitch shrugged and I tried to keep from looking frustrated. "You missed the obvious one. It'll always be there." "Oh, one and eight." "Right, don't forget that one. Now, is the eight in the equation positive or negative?" I continued to walk her through the questions to ask as she attempted to factor the quadratic, and I had her solve several additional problems I invented on the spot, forcing her to walk through the steps one at a time. True to her personality, Mitch was not a one at a time sort of girl, and she always wanted to power through and skip to the end. "Look, the better you get at these, the more you'll be able to skip steps, but for now," I put on my best Mr. Miyagi imitation, "first learn walk, then learn fly. Nature rule, Mitch-san, not mine." Mitch cracked a huge smile, holding back her laugh for only a second. "You're terrible at that."

I laughed too, getting a stare from someone working nearby. I didn't feel too bad, this section was kind of designed for groups. If they wanted quiet there were other places they could go. "I know, but I'm still right." "Besides, I never pegged you for a Mr. Miyagi. You're a lot more of a Willow." "Are you saying I'm weepy?" Mitch's face screwed up in confusion. "What?" "Weepy. A weeping willow. You called me a tree." Mitch rolled her eyes. "You're killing me, Smalls. Not the tree, Willow Rosenberg. Alyson Hannigan's character from Buffy." I smiled weakly and shook my head, indicating I didn't know whom she was talking about. Mitch just stared at me incredulously. "Seriously? You've never seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer?" "I've heard of it. It has, like, demons and witches and things in it, right?" "Um, yeah." Mitch sounded like mine was the dumbest statement in the history of mankind. "So it wouldn't have been allowed in my house." Disbelief was etched across Michelle's face. "Okay, we have to fix this. I can't be friends with someone who's never seen Buffy. Do you have any moral objections to witches and demons and stuff?" "No. Not fictional ones, at least." "Good, let's go." "Huh? Where?" "We're going back to my room and you're watching the first two episodes of Buffy with me." "Did you finish correcting your test?" "Oh, right, the test." Mitch had the decency to look sheepish. I glanced at my phone. We'd been going at this for almost an hour, and I didn't want to burn her out. "Okay, look. Give me another solid thirty minutes, and I'll let you show me your silly T.V. show."

"Deal." In the end we went for forty-five minutes, and Mitch had a spotless rework of her exam, so she'd get all possible bonus points. She'd actually really buckled down, and, well, I was proud of her. "This is good, right?" Mitch held it up, a little dumbfounded. "Yeah. You said quarter credit, right? So that should take your forty-four to a fifty-eight, only two points off of passing. You do well on your next one, and you'll have a solid grade going." Mitch shook her head. "Yeah, but the second exam is where I bombed out last semester." "We will get you ready. I promise. But you did well today. When do you have math?" "Tuesday and Thursday at eleven, recitation on Wednesday at nine." We compared schedules, and came up with Wednesday after lunch as a good time to start. "Okay, go to class, take notes, and at least give the homework problems they give you an honest try, and we'll go through them." "Okay. Now, you and me and Buffy." Her face was shining with excitement, and I couldn't help but laugh. "You are such a dork." We left the building, walking back towards her dorm. "So what about this show is so special?" "Oh my god, what isn't? The writing, actors, how Sarah Michelle Gellar kicks ass while looking super hot." "She's not gay, is she?" "Depressingly no, although her taste in men is... problematic. She'd be happier as a lesbian. Like most women." "They would not. I'm happy being straight." "Spencer, just like with Buffy, you have no idea what you're missing." There was just a little naughty husk in her voice, and I could feel my ears burn. I pushed my hair back over my ear and looked down as we walked, not speaking for fear my voice would break.

She'd apparently got enough of a reaction out of me, and her voice returned to normal as she started talking about the various characters and someone named Joss Whedon, who, in Mitch's opinion, should be nominated for sainthood. (We know now that is decidedly not true, but we didn't at the time.) As we entered her dorm, which was coed, there were a number of people in the lobby watching a basketball game. "Hey, Mitch, Hawks are on." One of the guys from the couch called out to her, his arm around a pretty brunette leaning on his shoulder. "That's nice, but I got plans, Jimmy." "I see that. Do they involve taking that pretty young thing up to your dorm room?" I felt my anger spike at his lecherous tone but Mitch spoke up immediately. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Jimmy. This is Cindy Spencer, she plays with me on the tennis team, and she's just a friend. Cindy, that's Jimmy, resident asshole." "Fuck you, Kirkpatrick. HALO in my room tonight if you're interested." "Okay. Maybe. Later guys." We headed up the stairs, and I laughed about the whole thing. "So I take it you guys are friends?" "Sure. Jimmy has no filter, but he's mostly okay. One day I'm going to take that girlfriend away from him though." "You will not!" Mitch grinned at me. "No, probably not. Besides, Ellie is like, for real straight. I don't get a curious vibe off her at all." "Can you usually tell?" "Yeah, I think so. It's this one." She pointed to a door, which had a rainbow flag on the outside. Mitch closed it behind us, and I realized I was suddenly in a room with a lesbian, and that room had beds in it. Shit, Cindy, play it cool. She'd just told everyone you were just friends. She's not going to make a move. And she wouldn't get anywhere if she did, right?.

"What do they call it? Gaydar? So that's a real thing?" "Depends on who you ask, and it isn't one hundred percent anyway. Still, I'm almost always right." I took a moment to look around Mitch's room. To be honest I'd expected it to be a mess, with clothes thrown around and books and pizza boxes everywhere. But it wasn't. It was reasonably neat and the bed was made. She had pictures on the shelves, several of her in a purple and white tennis outfit, one surrounded by others dressed the same way. There was also one of a middle-aged couple that were obviously her parents, along with a few others. It was kind of strange, seeing that Mitch had family and friends. It made her largerthan-life image more real, somehow. I sat down in her desk chair. "Anyone I should watch out for on the team?" She gave me that little half smile of hers. "Wouldn't you like to know. Let's put it this way. I will bet you dinner at a fancy restaurant that Carrie dates a woman before she turns thirty. Like a serious date, even a relationship." "You're lying!" "I get that feeling. She wouldn't even consider it now, but she will." "That's crap and you know it." I almost asked her about me, but honestly I didn't think I wanted to hear the answer. I wasn't even sure what I wanted it to be. Mitch threw a bag of popcorn into the microwave, and while it was cooking she pulled out a blue DVD box from her little closet. "This, Cindy, this is the good stuff. Well, I mean, the best stuff comes a few seasons later, but this is still good stuff." She slipped the disc into the player before pulling the now inflated popcorn bag from the microwave and emptying it's contents into a plastic bowl and flopping down onto her bed with a remote. "Do I get any popcorn?" I made a little pouty face. "Come sit by me and you can have as much as you want." I had a bad angle at the TV from here anyway, so I complied. I was expecting the same odd warmth I felt anytime I was near Michelle, but somehow, here in her room, it was even stronger. But it wasn't scary. Mitch held out the bowl and I took a handful as I settled in next to her. She pressed play. I saw the episode was called 'Welcome to the Hellmouth' before the title screen dissolved away. "What's a Hellmouth?"

"You'll find out." I don't know if you've ever had someone play a show or a movie that they love for you. You can almost feel their desire for you to like it as much as they do rolling off them. They'll glance at you during the parts that they like, just to watch your reaction, or try to embellish the show with facts or tidbits they've gleaned over the years. And you feel almost obligated to return their enthusiasm for whatever they're sharing with you. It can be really awkward, and to be honest I was kind of dreading it. However, the show was really good, and Mitch's obvious enthusiasm was infectious, just like always. What was it about her that just made me smile? Six hours and one pepperoni and mushroom pizza later we'd binged eight episodes. I didn't want to think about all the work I hadn't gotten done this afternoon, but I'd had so much fun. We'd ended up under a single blanket, and I was leaning against her, her arm around me as we watched the show. She was so warm, and I didn't want to go home. Mitch stood up and disposed of the empty pizza box, and I looked across the room at the other empty bed. "So your roommate is coming back?" "Not 'til tomorrow. She won't come back from her boyfriend's before class starts Monday." She didn't sit back down, instead glancing at the clock. "It is starting to get late, though, and I've got an eight o'clock tomorrow." "You kicking me out? I didn't see that coming." I gave her a wide smile, trying to put comedy into my voice, but her face was hard to read. "C'mon, get real." I cocked my head and tried to keep my voice light. "What? I'm not pretty enough for you to try to seduce?" "Cindy, you're beautiful, but you know I wouldn't do that, right? We're friends, and I know how you feel about it." She plastered on a smile. "So you, Spencer, are safe from my charms." I laughed, but even I could hear the seriousness in her voice. "I'd be impervious anyway." She grinned wickedly. "So you think." The playfulness was back in her voice, and that made me happy.

"You're right, though, it's getting late." I stood up. "So Wednesday afternoon before practice?" "Yeah. I'll meet you at the library. Since I know where it is now." How did this girl always keep me laughing? I looked into her eyes, so incredibly blue. I got lost for a second before she broke the silence. "Thanks, Cindy." "You're welcome, Michelle." She opened her arms for a hug, something we'd never really done before, other than quick celebratory ones on the court, of course. But this was different, and I knew it, but I never hesitated, wrapping my arms around her as I went into her embrace. She held me for just a moment, and something inside of me thrilled at the simultaneous strength and gentleness of her arms. I rested my head on her shoulder, and she smelled amazing, although I could never have described her scent. After a moment we separated and I felt a real sense of loss. I nodded to her and headed out into the evening, my heart beating faster than it should have been. *** I let Ethan take me out to a late movie after practice on Tuesday. It was weird, because when I mentioned that I had plans that evening Mitch didn't tease me about it at all. Maybe she was trying to be good because I was helping her with math. She didn't press for details like Carrie did, but she did get surlier the more I talked about it, so I dropped it. For some reason teasing her with Ethan had lost a lot of its fun. He let me choose the movie, but I didn't force him to sit through the biggest chick flick on the roster. We sat near the back and he put his arm around me, and I didn't like it. Mitch had done the same thing on Sunday, and it had felt so good. Why did this feel so different? I mean, it wasn't wrong, he wasn't trying to cop a feel, or anything like that, but I just wished he would stop. I couldn't let him know that, though. I could barely concentrate on the movie. When it was over I told him that I had a headache, and asked him to take me back to my dorm. He was obviously disappointed, but he did promise to be on time for my match on Saturday, letting me know he was planning on taking me out after. I doubted I'd get out of sex a

second time. The thought of it turned my stomach a bit, but I pasted on a smile and let him kiss me goodnight. Mitch and I met up as planned on Wednesday afternoon, and she started right into her algebra problems without any small talk. I'd been mentally preparing to deal with her pointed inquiries all day, and I guess it threw me a little, which Mitch picked up on almost immediately. "You okay?" "Yeah, it's nothing. So, the logarithm here has to be separated to one side so you can dig out the variable." I pointed her back to the page. Over the next fifteen minutes I made three basic algebra mistakes, the last of which made Mitch put down her pen and sit back in her chair. "What is going on with you?" "Sorry. I'm just off today. I don't know why." "Bullshit. Sorry." She grimaced as my cheeks reddened at her French. I made myself smile. "It's okay. It doesn't have anything to do with you. Promise." "I remember someone telling me that anything that affects one partner affects the other, or something like that?" "Only if it affects my game." Mitch pointed to my last mistake. "I'd say it is. And since you're tutoring me..." I breathed out. "It has to do with Ethan. You sure you want to know?" "Did he do something wrong? 'Cause that would give me a happy." "A happy? Who talks like that?" I was smiling now. I couldn't help it. "I need to show you more Buffy." She was looking at me, her bright blue eyes sparkling with joy and mischief. They were mesmerizing, and I just wanted to be close to her. "Okay. After practice?" "You don't have studying to do?" "Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow."

*** Five hours later we were sitting on her bed. I was next to her, and she'd covered us with that big blanket of hers. My head was on her shoulder, and I found myself nodding off. The episode we were watching was called 'Nightmares,' where a little boy in a coma was causing everyone's deepest fears to manifest. Somehow it made me a little uncomfortable. I wondered what my deepest fears were. I wasn't afraid of spiders or clowns or anything like that, at least not that I knew of. Mostly my nightmares were about being chased, hiding from people who wanted to hurt me, but I never knew why. I hadn't had a bad one since the season started, but something told me one was coming. Maybe it was just the show. Mitch put her arm around me. God, that felt nice. Warm. "So, are you going to tell me what happened with Ethan last night?" "You could tell?" "Yeah. I don't like it when my friends are sad." "I'm not sad." I looked down, and Mitch made a noise that told me she didn't believe me. "It's nothing, I just, I'm not sure it's working." "So break up with him." "But it should be working! I don't know why it isn't. I mean he's handsome and sweet. He's really nice to me." "He forgot your match." "Yeah, but he was really sorry about that. He took me out for a nice night yesterday." "How's the sex?" My eyes got wide. "Mitch!" "What? That's important." "It's fine." For crying out loud, I didn't even believe myself. "Just fine? Has he ever, um, what would you southern belles call it, shivered your timbers?"

I burst out a laugh. "That is not what I would call it. That'd be like a sailor or something." I couldn't help my voice getting smaller. "And that's none of your business." "So I'm going to take that as a no, then." "It's hard for some girls." I'd heard that at least. "So I understand. They're called 'straight girls'. I've personally never had that problem, coming or going." "I bet you haven't." *** As I lay in bed that night I thought about it. Mostly I was avoiding going to sleep, because that episode had freaked me out. I remembered my last bad nightmare. I'd woken screaming, my pajamas and sheets soaked with sweat, and I didn't want it to happen again. So I was thinking about things. Mitch was probably blowing smoke about the orgasm thing. I mean, girls faked it all the time. Somehow, though, I think Mitch could probably tell. But still, I needed to figure out this thing with Ethan. He was handsome, and I was attracted to him. Because if I weren't, what would that mean? No, I had to be. I just needed to try harder. Ethan made it on time to my match Saturday, and he was very supportive, cheering every point. I waved and smiled. No warm fuzzies at the sight of him, but I had to be on point for the match. Mitch mostly ignored him, trying to keep my mind on my game. Funny the reversal of roles there. The competition was a definite step up this time, but Mitch and I were able to control our set and win six-two. For my singles match we'd been able to find tape on the girl I was playing, so I felt a lot more prepared than last week. She was a big serve and forehand, and was obviously used to overpowering her opponents. That wasn't going to work with me, though, since she didn't hit as hard as Mitch did. I had her completely frustrated after the first set, and she started over-hitting. Things went downhill for her after that. Unfortunately, Mitch had the opposite problem. She was playing someone more like me, a tactician. Mitch took the first set six-three on the strength of an early break, but her opponent had adjusted to her power and they were tied five all in the second, with momentum clearly swinging away from my friend.

She dropped the first point on her serve and let out a howl of frustration. Her opponent was bouncing on the balls of her feet, in far too good a mood. "C'mon, Mitch!" I hollered at her, and she turned towards me with a look that begged me to tell her what to do. I ran over Coach Holiday, who was watching with one of the assistants. "Have her break down the forehand." She wasn't convinced. "Her opponent's forehand is solid." "I know, but she's thinking too much, and the other girl's better at that. She needs a place to focus her power." Coach thought for a second before sending in the signal. I moved back to the fence and watched as Mitch started hitting massive, deep forehands crosscourt. Her opponent matched her shot for shot, but Mitch rose to the challenge like I knew she would, holding for six-five During the changeover one of the coaches was talking to her, but her eyes sought me out. "You've got this." I tried to say it with my eyes as much as anything, because I knew she wouldn't be able to hear me, and she nodded, never looking away. She ran out to the far court, bouncing on her toes as her opponent prepared to serve. Mitch spun her racquet in her and took a step forward, a snarl forming on her lips. Anyone watching, including her opponent, knew she had seized the dominance, and the first serve sailed wide. Her second serve was not the strength of her game, and Mitch took a huge swing, blasting it past her opponent's reach. I whooped and clapped as Mitch's confident smile beamed across the net. I was so focused on what was happening on the court that I didn't hear Ethan come up from behind on the other side of the fence. "Hey." I was so focused on the match I'd forgotten he was even there, and I jumped when I heard his voice.

"Oh, hey." I leaned over and gave him a hug and let him steal a quick kiss. Mitch immediately sailed a forehand long, and I turned back to her, watching her face morph into a scowl. "I'm going to finish watching Mitch's match, then I'll meet you up in the stands after I shower and change, okay? "Sure. You played great, by the way." I smiled at him. He really was trying to be supportive. "Thanks, sweetie. I'll see you in a bit." He kissed me on the cheek and went to sit down. I turned back to the court where I caught Mitch pulling her eyes away from me. She didn't look happy, and when her opponent called out the thirty -- fifteen score I knew she'd lost that last point as well. "C'mon Mitch! You got this!" I closed my fist and shook it, willing her to fight through. She nodded and twirled her racquet as her opponent served. The ball never knew what hit it. Mitch stepped forward and took the ball early, plastering a forehand up the line that I think left a dent in the fence when it hit. Her opponent was clearly unnerved, and she went for way too much on her next two serves, double-faulting to give Mitch a match point. This time her opponent hit a good serve out wide, but Mitch made the return and equalized in the rally. Her power slowly drove the other girl back, and finally the rally shot that came back was too short. Mitch stepped forward and prepped to rip a forehand, but I was screaming drop shot inside my head. Her opponent had moved way back, and the near court was wide open. Somehow, miraculously, Mitch pulled back, sliding her racquet under the ball and sending just feet beyond the net. Her opponent made a futile effort to run forward, but the ball bounced a second time before she even got close. The team watching gave a whoop, and I ran out onto the court as Mitch finished shaking hands at the net. She turned towards me with a big, self-satisfied grin on her face, and I gave her a big hug. "That was great!" "You like the drop shot at the end? That was for you, y'know."

"I saw it! It was perfect. Proud of you." I was still hugging her, and I didn't want to let go, but I had to. I knew Mitch wasn't going to be the first to release. We separated, and I felt my cheeks heat up a bit. If Mitch noticed my embarrassment she didn't show it, instead just nodding towards the locker rooms. "Let's hit the showers so we can watch the varsity matches." We did just that, and once we were dressed we headed back out to the stands. A few of the girls were already gathered, but I pointed to Ethan, who was sitting half way up on the far end. "I'm going to sit with Ethan. You want to come with me?" Now, Mitch isn't good at hiding her emotions, but I'm not the best at picking up on things like that, either. Nevertheless, there was still an obvious discomfort in her face as she wrestled with the decision. "No, I think I'll sit with the others. Enjoy Mr. GQ." She failed to keep the dislike completely out of her voice, and a part of me really wished I were going to sit with her instead. Still, we had a good time, I guess. He bought me a soda and a pretzel with a cheese cup, which I love. We struggled in the doubles, actually losing the point going into singles, with Carrie and her partner dropping their set in a tiebreak. One of our other teams got dominated, and Coach Holiday was not happy at all. At least I didn't have to bear the brunt of her displeasure. The ladies responded, however, playing like gangbusters in the singles, only one of which was even competitive. Heather looked like she was favoring her elbow, which was taped heavily. I was far more interested in the matches than I was in my company, unfortunately. I realized I was ignoring Ethan, so I reached out and took his hand. It was good, right? Holding his hand in the cool spring air, sitting close. I tried to enjoy it, but I kept glancing down at Mitch, who was sitting with the other non-varsity players. She said something that made one of them laugh, and I felt a spike of jealousy. I wished I were down there. No. Stop that. Any girl would want to be on Ethan's arm. I leaned in and gave him a kiss, trying not to pull away from the bare trace of stubble on his cheek. After the match we went out to dinner, where I tried to steer the conversation away from tennis. I just wanted to get away from that whole world

for a moment. I encouraged him to talk, and he told me all about the internship that he was going to be doing over the summer with his father's company in Savannah. The food was really good, and I added a piece of tiramisu to my lasagna, all the while trying to psych myself up for what was coming after. Ethan drove me back to his dorm, where he had a single this semester. He leaned over and kissed me. "Come upstairs?" I wanted to say no, but I couldn't. If I was going to be his girlfriend I had to do this. I had to learn to do this. So I went with him. I'll spare you the details, as I don't like to think about them, but an hour later I was lying in his bed fighting back tears, trying to ignore the soreness between my legs. I'd gotten my lube on the first time, and it wasn't so bad, but Ethan had wanted a second, and it had hurt. He was asleep, finally. I felt a tear run down my cheek. It wasn't his fault. He'd tried to cuddle me afterwards, talking about how next year he was going to get his own apartment, and we'd have a bigger bed. He'd told me how beautiful I was, and how much fun he'd had tonight, and I'd smiled at him and lied to his face about my own feelings regarding what we'd just done. It made me sick inside. I wondered, is this what my mother did? Did she go through life pretending to love my father? I'd never seen them be affectionate towards each other, beyond calling each other 'my dear' or some such thing. But there wasn't any joy in my mother's eyes when she looked at my father, no tender touches when they thought no one was looking. Maybe I was like her. Maybe I was too cerebral, incapable of loving someone. Ethan was a good boyfriend, and I knew he would be a good man someday. He really wanted to make me happy. But I couldn't love him. Maybe, though, if he loved me enough, or if someone did, down the road, I could fake it enough to keep them happy. I could still be blessed with the family I wanted, and have someone to spend my life with. Someone I didn't love. Eventually I managed to cry myself to sleep. *** I was still an emotional wreck when I met up with Mitch on Sunday. I'd spent all morning trying to hide it, even putting on a little makeup to cover up

the redness around my eyes. It had been good enough to fool Ethan this morning, but I should have known it wouldn't work on my friend. "Hey, what's the matter?" "Nothing. Look, I want you to try problems ten through fourteen. Let's see how those go." She started working, but she wasn't going to let it go. "We both know it's not nothing. Here, is that right?" I looked over her first problem, and she'd done it correctly. "Yeah, it is, keep going." "Ok." She began again. "I know this has something to do with Ethan. And I can tell you've been crying." She took a breath. "Cindy, does Ethan, I mean, is he, um, mean or violent?" "No! God, no. I wouldn't be with him for a second if that were true." "Ok. It's just, you seemed scared of him yesterday, or something." For crying out loud, why did she have to be so bloody perceptive all the damn time? "It's nothing. Let's get back to this." I pointed back to her paper, and we got through the rest of her work. We followed our normal pattern of heading back to her dorm room to watch a few episodes of Buffy. We were in the second season now, and I was being introduced to the delicious evil of Spike and Drusilla. The sensuality of the pair was almost palpable through the TV. Why the hell couldn't I ever feel like that? I heaved a sigh, which I immediately regretted. Mitch reached around me and paused the episode. "Ok, what is going on with you? You haven't been yourself all day." "I'm fine." My voice cracked as I said it. "No, you're not, you're upset. And I don't like it when my friends are upset." I was staring down at the mattress, tears threatening to slip free from my eyes. I couldn't speak, but I felt her fingers gently lift my chin. "Hey, you can talk to me. I promise." I looked up into her striking blue eyes. I'd never seen them like this before. Usually they were sassy, or twinkling with laughter, or sometimes intense with

joyful fire. But now they were just kind, and filled with concern for me. She brushed a hair away from my face. Her touch was so gentle, and I broke down crying. She didn't try to shush me or ask again what was wrong. Instead she just pulled me close and let me sob on her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around me and I did the same. I didn't for one instant worry that I was letting a lesbian hug me. I just wanted my friend to hold me, because when she did everything felt better, and I let the misery flow out. Michelle stroked my hair as I wept, and I eventually quieted down. I didn't want to pull away. I just wanted to stay here, where it was warm and safe. "Cindy? Tell me what's going on?" "It's Ethan. I, um..." I searched for the words. "You said he didn't do anything, he didn't hurt you. Is that not true?" "Not on purpose. I mean, he took me to dinner, and then, um, he ah, asked me up. Last time I told him no, so I had to this time. God, it sounds so stupid out loud. You're going to laugh at me." "No I won't, I swear. Hey." She turned my face towards hers. "Look, I know I can be a bit of a goofball, and that probably drives someone so naturally intense insane sometimes, but I can be serious. See?" She furrowed her brow, narrowed her eyes and thinned her mouth. "Serious." I laughed in spite of myself, and I couldn't keep smiling. Mitch took a breath, and her face really did get serious. "So he took you up to his room. You had sex?" I nodded miserably, the tears flowing again as I spoke. "And it hurts, Mitch. It hurts so much, and I hate it. I have to use, um, stuff so that it's even tolerable. And last night he wanted a second time and..." I broke down again, and she pulled me in close. "I'm so sorry, Cindy." She held me for a long time until I quieted down, finally whispering in my ear. "We're going to figure this out, but I need to ask you something, okay? You have to promise to tell me the truth." I nodded, and she looked me in the eye and continued. "Did you say no? Tell him to stop?" I'd never seen her so intense, and if my answer had been different, looking back I don't know what she would have done. "No, I didn't. He didn't rape me,

Michelle. I mean, it kinda feels like he did, because I wanted him to stop, but he didn't know. He had no idea. He's not a bad person." Mitch's eyes relaxed some. "Okay. So when you start, you just never get wet for him?" I felt my cheeks burn as mortification knifed through all the other emotions I was feeling. "Mitch?!" "Hey, if you want someone to help, you're going to have to talk about it. When a woman gets aroused, her body produces lubricant. Does that not happen for you?" I grimaced and shook my head 'no'. "I think there's something wrong with me." "Maybe. Does it happen when you masturbate?" I gulped. "Usually, yeah. If it goes anywhere. I don't do it much." "What do you think about?" "Nothing. Just the feelings. My hands touching me. God, you're not going to tell me I'm a lesbian, are you?" She got an evil look on her face and popped her eyebrows a couple times. "Mitch!" I tried to look outraged, but I couldn't. "Sorry, I'm sorry. Look, Cindy, just because you're not attracted to Ethan does not mean you're a lesbian." "But I am attracted to him! He's handsome, and kind, any girl would be attracted to him." "You like him. That's not the same thing. I like Jimmy. Doesn't mean I want to have sex with him." Mitch shifted on the bed. "Look, Cindy, you're only nineteen years old. You don't have to be having sex if you don't want to. You don't ever have to have sex if you don't want to. Ever. Not with anyone, not for any reason." "But I do want to." Or I wanted to want to. I wanted to make him happy. Mitch looked like she didn't believe me, and I didn't blame her with how small my voice had gotten. "In that case, maybe you should talk to a doctor. And talk to Ethan. If he really cares about you, he'll understand."

I nodded. "Okay." Mitch smiled at me and nodded toward the screen. "Do you want to keep going?" "Yeah. Thanks." Mitch pulled me into another hug, and God it felt good. She was so gentle. I didn't pull away, instead just turning in her arms so my back was to her. She didn't say anything, but she pulled a blanket around us before wrapping her arms around my middle as I leaned back against her. I closed my eyes and just felt her warmth. This was so nice, and, as she restarted the show, I knew that everything was going to be okay. *** The varsity struggled again the next Saturday, we managed to win, but we lost the doubles for the second week in a row, and Heather had to retire five games into her match. Luckily I didn't have to make excuses that night with Ethan, as Nature was providing her monthly reprieve from male attention. I was still planning on talking with him, though, and I had an appointment at the clinic to speak to a female NP. I was feeling confident that I was going to be able to get past this. I knocked on Coach Holiday's door after practice. "Come in!" I entered to see Mitch already sitting down. "You wanted to see me, Coach?" "Spencer, yes, please." She indicated an empty chair. I sat down, and she folded her hands. "I just wanted to tell you both how impressed I've been with your progress so far this year, both of you. I'm very proud of each of you. Now, for the reason I asked you here. We're shutting Heather down for the rest of the year. The inflammation in her elbow and shoulder isn't getting any better, and we don't want to jeopardize her career. Which means there's a varsity spot open, and I want you to know that the coaches and I seriously considered both of you. But, this week the number six singles spot is going to be filled by Kirkpatrick. Congratulations." "Thanks coach." Mitch's voice was stunned, her mouth hanging open. I smiled and reached out and grabbed her hand. Of course they'd chosen her, she

had more upside, and I knew it. But they were going on the road to Ole Miss, an overnighter, so no JV, and I wouldn't be playing. "Well, have a good trip. You'll do great." I tried to keep any disappointment out of my voice. Coach Holiday smiled. "Oh, no, Spencer, you're not getting off the hook that easy. I still want the two of you playing doubles together. You're coming with as the first alternate, and you'll both be playing number three doubles." I suddenly couldn't breathe. I was going to be playing varsity tennis for the University of Georgia. "Now, I understand there's been tension in the past, but I generally assign doubles partners to room together. If that's acceptable?" Mitch gave me a wicked grin. "I don't know. Spencer, do you snore?" I stuck my tongue out at her. "Like a freight train." Mitch laughed, and so did the coach. "It's settled then. Congratulations, Cindy. You've earned it." We left the office, and I leaned up against the wall of the hallway. I was shaking. "Oh my God, oh my God." "Hey, you okay?" Mitch's eyes were dancing with mirth. "Yeah, yeah I, but you! You're playing singles! Congratulations!" "Thanks. You're going to help me prep, right?" "Sure, but the coaches'll..." Mitch shook her head. "They'll be great, but I want you. I trust you." My mouth opened slightly in surprise. I was touched. "Thanks, Mitch. Of course I'll help. "Good. But first things first, y'know." I grinned at her, knowing exactly where she was going with this. "Party?" "Damn straight!" We ended up at Last Resort, along with Carrie and a couple of the other ladies on the team. It included Heather, whose spot Mitch was taking, and she was being very supportive. I ordered a round of fried green tomatoes for

everyone. Mitch initially turned her nose up at them, but I eventually got her to try one, and she admitted they were pretty good. I leaned back at one point and took in where I was, and who I was with. I was sitting with some of the top collegiate players in the country, and I was a member of the team. "What are you thinking?" I looked over at Mitch, who had moved next to me. "Just that I'm really on the team. I'm going to be a real player for Georgia." She reached out and put a hand on my knee. "You were already part of the team. We all know it." I shook my head. "Hm-mm. You have to play in an official varsity match to be in the record books." I put my hand on hers. "And you were always going to play. You have too much talent not to." I looked up into my friend's kind face. She really was very pretty, especially with those incredible eyes. "You were going to play, too." I smiled a half, disbelieving smile. "Maybe. I was a lot more of a gamble. Coach Holiday only let me walk on because she didn't have to chance a scholarship on me." "Cindy, when Coach told me we were going to be doubles partners, wanna know what she said? She told me that you were the smartest freshman player she'd ever coached, and if I had the sense God gave a goose I'd pay attention to everything you said and take it as gospel. Everyone here respects you. I know I wouldn't want to play you in a real match." I felt a tear form in my eye at her sincerity. She squeezed my hand, and I smiled at her. I noticed that we were getting looks from the others, especially Carrie, and I felt my cheeks heat up, although I don't know why. We weren't doing anything. We made it back to the dorms before ten, which was surprising to me, at least, even though it was a Monday Night. Mitch had called her parents on the way home, and you could hear their excitement and support in the muffled voices on the other end of the line. That was not what I expected from my parents, who tolerated my athletic endeavors rather than celebrated them. My

older brother played football and baseball, and my father attended every one of his games. He'd only come to a few of mine. I made it back to my dorm room, which was empty, and I pressed the icon for my parent's landline. "Spencer residence." "Hi, daddy, it's Cindy." "Hello, sweetheart. It's late, is something wrong?" "Um, no, daddy. I just had some news. I'll be playing varsity doubles this weekend. It'll probably be live streamed if you want to watch." "Congratulations. We'll try. Do you want to speak to your mother?" "Sure. Thanks daddy." I repeated the information to my mother, who also offered her congratulations before immediately asking about Ethan. I assured her he was well and lied that we were doing well. I got no honest approval until I got to talk to Charlotte, my little sister, who was very excited. She was only ten, so me playing on the big stage was very exciting for her, and that at least made me smile. My older brother Carl was also very supportive and excited when I called him after, and he promised to be watching on Saturday. *** "So, were your parents excited?" "Yeah, sure." I tried not to think too hard about Carrie's question. My parents would only be excited when I brought home a fiancé, and then, after being married a suitable time, announcing I was pregnant. Carrie's parents had been over from Atlanta for every match so far. Showing up for one of my matches would be far too close to approval for mine. I sat back in my seat on the bus. The week had been a whirlwind. Carrie, Mitch and I had to meet with one of the coaches and go through travel protocols and everything, and practice had just felt more intense knowing I was preparing for a real match. "Are your parents going to come out for this one?" Carrie nodded. "Yeah, at least one of them, I think. First SEC match and all."

"What's up ladies!" Mitch bounced onto the bus with her typical enthusiasm, getting high fives as she made her way back to the bus where Carrie and I were sitting. At least she'd spared me from answering the return question. She flopped into the seat across the aisle from us. "You ready for this, roomie?" "Yeah. No pressure on me. If we lose our set I can blame it on you." Mitch shrugged. "Everybody'd blame me anyway. No biggie." Mitch's being there made me calmer. I'm not sure how that was possible, given her endless energy, but it was true. Coach Holiday finally climbed on board, giving us all one last look over before she sat down. The bus's engine started and suddenly we were on our way. It was a six and a half hour drive to the University of Mississippi, which is a long time to be cooped up with anyone, but somehow Mitch made the miles fly by. The whole bus was in an exuberant, confident mood. Ole Miss was a team we should beat, but every year was a new challenge, and the team was focused Mitch and I had spent several hours reviewing film on her opponent, who was a solid but not spectacular junior. Mitch was licking her chops at the prospect, but I had to remind her that this girl was probably doing the same thing, drawing an unknown freshman as her first conference match of the year. On the trip we pulled the tape of Carrie's opponent up on her tablet as well, going through her strengths and weaknesses. She was up against a girl from Europe, who was also listed as a freshman, but she looked older. She was small, maybe a little above five feet, and a completely defensive player, the kind who just ran everything down and made you hit shot after shot. That type of player could be a nightmare for someone like Carrie, who didn't have massive weapons like Mitch. "Look, she's behind the baseline again. She plays like five, six feet behind all the time." I pointed at the screen. "I'll guarantee you she grew up on clay." Carrie looked at me. "So what would you do?" "What did the coaches say?" Mitch laughed. "The coaches said ask Spencer." I gave her a feigned dirty look and stuck my tongue out at her. She just grinned at me, and I fluttered inside a little. Why did that happen? I shook it off.

Carrie gave me the real answer. "The coaches said drop shots, but my drop shot isn't great." "I think it'll be fine. It won't need to be perfect. I haven't seen her come to net once. I doubt she's comfortable there." I thought for a moment, and they were both watching me. "Also take a little something off your shots." "What!?" Both of my friends responded the same way at the same time. "No, seriously. Look how fast she is at getting back to the middle. If you take something off and hit some more acute angles, she won't be able to do that. It'll open up the court, and she doesn't have the power to punish you for shorter shots. Be careful though, she'll try to cut that angle." Mitch pointed at Carrie's tablet. "Why wouldn't she just take it up the line?" I shook my head. "Too risky. This girl wants to hit to the big court." We talked it over for several hours, and I gave her some other pointers, like to be more aggressive on her opponent's second serve, which was already something she was planning on attacking. All in all the time went far faster than I could have imagined. We got to the hotel, and one of the assistant coaches paired us off and handed each pair a small white envelope with card keys. "Okay ladies, go get settled in. Dinner at seven in conference room one." I handed one of the keys to Mitch and began to wheel my beat up old carry-on sized suitcase toward the elevators while toting my tennis bag over my shoulder, while Mitch followed behind with her bag, an old, beat up army canvas duffel. Something about that just made me laugh. "What?" "You, Michelle, are a trip." "I can't have a fancy bag like that. I have a rep to think of." She grinned at me shaking my head. "It's one of my dad's from when he was in service. It's all part of my butch lesbian mystique." "Yeah, but I know you're just a big softie." "You take that to your grave, Cindy Spencer."

Her face was so serious, but I knew she was kidding. Funny. I wasn't usually good at reading people, but I was starting to be able to tell with Mitch. We slipped inside and Mitch closed the door behind us. I tossed my bag onto the nearer bed. "So, are you planning to try to seduce me tonight?" I was expecting some sort of smart aleck quip, but I didn't get one. She just shook her head. "No." The sincerity of it surprised me and I looked at her. Was she sad? Unfortunately I didn't get a chance to tell her I was kidding, as Carrie knocked on our door at that moment, checking if we were headed down to dinner. After eating we ended up in one of the upperclassmen's rooms watching a movie. I jumped onto one of the beds, and made room for Mitch to sit next to me, but she didn't, instead taking a chair on the other side of the room. I was surprised at how hurt I was. When Mitch and I watched shows in her room, which was becoming a regular thing, we always sat together, sometimes under the same blanket. Maybe she didn't want people to know we'd become friends. As the movie progressed I got the distinct impression that Mitch was doing her best to not look in my direction. Maybe I was just being overly sensitive. Finally, as lights out approached, we made our way back to our room. "Do you want the bathroom first?" I nodded. "Yeah, sure." Mitch's voice had been soft, very unlike her. "You okay?" "I'm fine." I may not have the highest E.Q. in the world, but I knew that wasn't true. "When I'm done we're going to talk." I grabbed my pajamas and headed into the little bathroom. I took my time brushing my teeth and putting my hair back into the braid I usually wore to bed. By the time I came back out Mitch was already changed and under her covers, facing the other way. "I'm out, if you need it." "I'm okay. Goodnight." "Michelle?" I couldn't keep the hurt out of my voice. "Are you mad at me?"

She rolled over and looked at me. "I'd never do that to you. We're friends." The thing I'd said when we'd first gotten to our room came back to me. "Mitch, I was kidding about the seducing thing. Is that why you didn't sit with me during the movie?" "I thought it might make you uncomfortable, with everyone around. I know me being gay bothers you." Her voice was unusually quiet. My jaw dropped open. "It does not!" Mitch just looked at me. "I mean, it doesn't anymore." I sat down on the edge of my bed. "You realize you're the first gay person I've ever known, right?" "I doubt that." "I mean, that I knew was gay, that lived out. And now you're my best friend. I'd say that's growth." She smirked at me, playfulness returning to her eyes. "I'm your best friend?" "I spend more time with you than anyone else, even Ethan. And I look forward to hanging out with you. So yeah, I think so." "Damn it, Spencer, I'm touched." My face turned stern. "What did I tell you about calling me by my last name?" Mitch laughed. "Sorry, Cindy." "I forgive you, Michelle." I climbed into bed, lying on my side facing my friend. "Can I ask you a question?" "Shoot?" "Why Mitch? I mean, your parents did not call you Mitch when you were little." That got a laugh. "No, they most decidedly did not." She shrugged. "When I was a kid I spent a lot of time outside with the neighborhood gang, playing ball, riding my bike, mostly with the boys. I was better than them at most sports, faster than all of them, and they always wanted me on their teams. I also kicked the ass of the ones who made fun of me for being a girl. One of them, Billy

Stephens, had an old fashioned, honest-to-god tree house with a ladder and a 'No Girls Allowed' sign. So they decided to make me an honorary boy. But a boy couldn't have a name like Michelle, so they decided on "Mitch.' "They kept calling me that, even at school. It started to stick with the other kids. I got teased a lot about being more of a boy than a girl anyway, so I just kind of went with it. Names lose their punch if you're not embarrassed by them. And here I am." "Did you, I mean, have you ever wanted to be a boy?" "Maybe a little when I was a kid, and I couldn't join certain teams, or got teased. Or when my aunts and uncles bought me dolls. But I'm good now. And I like having lady parts. They're a lot more fun. And it's easier to have kids." That made me grin at her in disbelief. "You want kids?" "Sure. Why wouldn't I?" "I just figured you were planning on playing the field for the rest of your life. So many curious, so little time, remember?" Her eyes and voice got thoughtful. "My parents met their first day of high school. Dad says he walked into his English class and there she was. He said she was glowing. He managed to work up the nerve to ask her to Homecoming, and they've been together ever since. They're so deeply in love it's scary." "And you want that?" Mitch nodded. "I don't know if it's even possible for most people. My dad always told me I'd know the one when I met her, but I'm not so sure." I felt a tear sting my eye at the longing in Mitch's voice. I'd never even considered she could feel that way, and that wasn't the first time I'd sold her short. I needed to stop doing that. "C'mon, you're only nineteen. You'll find her. I know you will. You're going to make someone so happy someday." "Thanks, Cindy." There was a note of pain in her voice, which made me sad. We smiled at each other, but the moment was interrupted by a knock on the door. "You ladies in there?" We answered in unison. "Yeah, Coach."

"Okay. Lights out, get some sleep." We heard footsteps move away, and Mitch climbed out of bed. "I probably should use the bathroom." She did, turning out the lights when she finished. She was wearing a tank top and boxer shorts, her long legs and powerful shoulders bare. She was incredible. She climbed onto her mattress, pulling the covers around herself. "G'night, Cindy." "Goodnight, Michelle." Part Two I'd never been more nervous in my life. I've probably said that already a few times during this story, but it was definitely true again. My leg was bouncing as I tried to control my breathing in the visitor's locker room. I felt more than saw Mitch sit down next to me. "Cindy, hey." I looked up at her, her blue eyes focused with competitive fire. "Hey." "We got this. You and me, together. Right?" "Yeah." I nodded, probably a little too fast. "Good. What's on your shirt?" "Huh?" My brow furrowed, not following. Mitch reached out and touched the embroidered letter on my top, just over my breasts. "That. What is it?" "It's the Georgia 'G'." "That's right. And it's not a joke, and it's not a mistake. You earned it, because you are a damn fine tennis player. And we're going to go out and show them that. Understood, partner?" She was wearing a wicked grin on her face, and it made me feel better immediately. Yeah. We were going to do this. It turned out she was absolutely correct, the two of us were dominant, moving together as one on the court. We covered each other's lines, anticipated

each other's movements, and we only dropped a single game. Overall the team took all three doubles sets. I sat with Mitch as everyone prepared for the singles matches. Now it was Mitch's leg bouncing with nervous energy, but her eyes were focused, and she took the court at a run. I moved up to the stands, away from the rest of the team and coaches. I wanted to be able to concentrate. Mitch started with the serve. I watched as she bounced the ball, her powerful body coiling gracefully before striking, driving the ball past her opponent. She took another ball, stepped to the other side of the court, and did it again. In a word, she was magnificent. I couldn't look away, seeing her move around the court, the raw power of her body and game. Her opponent couldn't come close to handling that power, and Mitch won in straight sets. After match point Mitch raised her arms in triumph. I'd lost track of the score just watching her. That was very unlike me, and I gave myself a shake before heading back down to the court. Mitch was beaming. I was pulled towards her like a magnet, and going into her embrace was the only thing I wanted. She laughed as I burrowed my head into her shoulder, and I held on for just a moment longer than I should have. It was just hard to let go. "You were great Michelle. That was amazing." She stepped away, creating some space. "It felt good. What'd you think? How did I play?" "You were too much for her. She couldn't hit with you." I couldn't help smiling at her. "I know, so I tried to think how you would handle that. I gave myself more margin and tried to keep the power high." I could see the earnestness in her face. "Was that right?" She really wanted me to approve. "Yeah, it was perfect." We sat on the side of Carrie's match, watching as she dealt with her counter-punching opponent. It took forever, but Carrie was able to pull through in two very close sets, and our team ended up taking a clean sweep back onto the bus home.

It was a little rowdy, and I don't usually go for that sort of thing. Me loosening up is not a pretty picture. Like Willow said on Buffy, wild on me equals spazz. So instead I sat in the back and kind of basked in the happiness of my teammates. After forty-five minutes or so things started to quiet down, and Mitch plopped herself into the seat next to me. "So, good day?" I smiled at her. "Yeah. It was. You played great." "We both did, partner. So, I was thinking, how do we switch it up some? I mean, people are going to start to get tape on us, and we should be ready, y'know, for when they react." "Look at you, talking strategy. I thought it was just," I lowered my voice to caveman territory, "'Mitch hit ball.'" "Hey, I'm growing here. Have some respect." She smiled at me. God, she was so pretty, and those eyes, they were mesmerizing. How could she not have someone? "You okay, Spencer?" "No, yeah, I'm fine. Yeah. I tend to poach more when you serve in the deuce court, so that's something." We continued to talk shop for the next hour until I let go a huge yawn in the middle of a sentence. "Am I boring you, Cindy?" I gave an embarrassed shrug. "No, I didn't get much sleep last night. But if I fall asleep in this seat I'm going to get a crick in my neck." "You could sleep on my shoulder." Mitch popped her eyebrows at me a couple of times, making me giggle. "No, I'll be okay. Thanks though." I leaned back and looked out the window while Mitch put in a pair of earbuds. I started to nod off, but it really wasn't comfortable. After a while I readjusted, moaning slightly as I tried to stretch. Mitch didn't say anything, instead just lifting the armrest between us and putting her arm around me. I snuggled into her shoulder. I was crazy tired, and she was so comfy, and the next thing I knew she was shaking me gently awake. "Cindy, hey, we're back on campus."

I opened my eyes. It had gotten dark, and the streetlamps flickered by as we went slowly down the road. I looked at my phone. It was just after one o'clock as the bus pulled up to an upper class dorm. The rest of the team piled off, taking their bags with them, leaving just the coaches, Carrie, Mitch and me. "Do we get off here?" I yawned. Coach Holiday smiled, which was a little weird. "No Spencer. We'll take you to your dorm. Or at least closer." "Okay." I leaned back against Mitch, closing my eyes for a second before they snapped open and I sat up. The bus was moving again, and Mitch pulled her arm away. "God, was I sleeping on you?" "Yeah." I grimaced. "I'm sorry." "I'm not." I figured she was going to be giving one of her patented mischievous looks, but if anything she looked mildly embarrassed. I was probably misreading it because it was late. Mitch didn't get embarrassed. *** I let myself sleep in on Sunday, ignoring calls from both Ethan and my brother. I finally responded to a text from Mitch. Mitch -- Hey, I got pizza and incomprehensible math problems in my dorm room. I smiled and shook my head. I didn't want to talk to my family, and I really didn't want to see Ethan right now. I did want to be with my best friend, though. Even if she didn't know a logarithm from a differential. Me -- Okay, I'll be over in an hour. As I stood in the shower I wondered how in the world I'd gotten to the point that the only place I felt happy and safe was in the dorm room of a butch lesbian, even if she was the most interesting person I'd ever met. Mitch was true to her word, and we made our way through a large pepperoni and mushroom along with a passel of Math problems. After that there was Buffy. I was sitting next to Mitch, remembering how lovely it had been

leaning against her on the bus. Would it be so wrong? It didn't mean anything, did it? Mitch paused the show. "Hey, you okay?" "Yeah, just tired." "We can turn it off." God, the one thing I knew was that I didn't want to leave. "No, um, I want to finish the episode." Mitch reached over and tucked a strand of my blonde hair behind my ear. "Okay. You know, my shoulder's always available to my friends." I smiled. How had she known that's what I'd been thinking? I didn't pass up the offer. Her arm felt so good around me. *** The season continued, and what I most looked forward to were the overnight road trips. Mitch was so much fun to be around, and we always stayed up talking late into the night in our rooms. I was seeing less and less of Ethan. I'd met with the Nurse Practitioner on campus and managed somehow to explain to her what was going on. She checked my estrogen levels to be sure we weren't dealing with early menopause, which she said would be extremely rare at my age. It all came back normal, making me breathe easier. She asked me a lot of the same questions Mitch had. And the more I tried to convince everyone that I was attracted to Ethan, the less I believed it myself. "So what are you going to do?" Mitch put her hand under her chin, looking at me across the space between the beds in our hotel room. "It's not getting any better. And he isn't calling as much." "So you used what she gave you?" "Yeah. It's just basically prescription strength versions of the stuff I was already using. And it helps about the same." "Cindy, you should just break up with him." I searched her eyes for ulterior motives, but I couldn't see any. She'd never liked Ethan, I knew that, but she was always supportive of me. "You're not happy, he's not happy."

"Mitch..." "Okay, just humor me. Just for a second. Close your eyes." I lay back, and did as she asked. "Think about Ethan." "Okay." "How do you feel? Truth." "Nervous. Scared. Afraid." "Okay. Afraid why?" "That there's something wrong with me. That I'll never..." I couldn't finish. "Hey, stop. Now, keep your eyes closed. You see him?" "Yes." "Now, just blow him out like a candle. Poof. He's gone forever. How do you feel?" How did I feel? I dreaded every time my phone rang, or chimed with a text. What if that were gone? "Still scared. But relieved. Peaceful." "So, what does that tell you?" "I know. I've never broken up with anyone, though. It feels like failing." "See, that's the thing about love. You only have to get it right once." I grinned wickedly across the divide. "So does that mean you're going to give it a shot sometime?" "Yes. I will." The intensity in her voice surprised me, and she must have seen it in my face. "You don't believe me? I'm hurt, Spencer." "No, I just, um, God, I don't know. I'm sorry." Mitch lay back and looked up at the ceiling. "No, I have every intention of falling in love. But I'm only going to do it once. And then I'm going to stay in love forever, just like my parents." "I thought you said you weren't sure about falling in love."

She turned onto her side, propping her head on her hand. "You remember that?" "Of course I do. It was that night in Oxford, when you told me about your parents." I blushed. "I like talking to you at night." "You don't get enough girl talk from your roommate?" "Oh, God, all she can talk about is boys and clothes and whatever girl she doesn't like because of whatever stupid jealous reason. I swear, she's like something out of a teen drama show. A bad one. And I've never seen her study. How she ever passes a class is totally beyond me." "Geez, Cindy. Meow." I giggled. "Stop that. I was not being catty." Mitch just smirked at me. "Okay, maybe just a little." "So, I take it you're not going to re-up for another tour with her, then?" "Uh, no. I guess it's back to the roommate lottery for me." "You don't have to, y'know. We could bunk up. In a completely platonic sense of course." My mouth dropped open slightly. What would that mean, would she... no, God, stop it. It would be fine. Just like this, separate beds. And I'd get to hang out more with my best friend. My parents would have an absolute cow, but there wasn't any reason they needed to know that I was rooming with a lesbian. I hadn't mentioned Mitch's sexual orientation during the brief conversations I'd had with them, obviously. I'd even been careful to only refer to her as Michelle. Mitch mistook my thoughtfulness. "Hey, if you don't want to, that's okay." "No, I, um, that'd be nice." Mitch looked at me sternly. "Are you sure?" "No, I mean, yeah. I'm sure. I'm in. Let's do it." I was grinning ear to ear, my anxiety evaporating as I saw Mitch match my expression. "Awesome!" I tried to give her an appraising look of my own. "Now you're not just doing this so you can watch me change, right?

Mitch scoffed at me. "Please, Spencer, I've watched you change dozens of times. And I can't help it if you're drop dead gorgeous." She grinned, and we laughed at each other. "You just behave." I reached over and turned out the light and rolled away, pulling the covers up to my neck. She'd called me gorgeous. Why had my heart done a flip when she'd said it? I mean it was a compliment, right? I mean, she is a lesbian, so it's just like a guy saying I was pretty, which I was used to. Except that when guys say it, my brain doesn't go all fuzzy like it just had. *** "Check it out!" Mitch busted into the locker room waving some papers. Carrie looked up from her locker. "What is that?" "That is my College Algebra exam. Which I got a 'B' on. 'Cause I'm awesome." I jumped up and grabbed the exam out of her hand. There was a big red '82' circled at the top. "Michelle, that's fantastic! I'm so proud of you!" "It's all because of you, y'know." I wrapped her in a hug, not even remembering I was only wearing a sports bra on top until I felt her hands on the bare skin of my back. Heat flooded my body as my cheeks turned red, and luckily for me Mitch let me go quickly. I stepped back, staring down at the floor, but Mitch just whooped again, turning away and letting me regain my composure. "Kirkpatrick! What's the racket for?" Coach Holiday came out of her office and Mitch showed her the exam, which allowed me a moment to sit back down at my locker and pull on my top. I felt her presence a moment before she sat down next to me. She put her arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. "So, how do I say thank you?" "You haven't passed anything yet, y'know." Mitch's eyes got serious. "I understand, really." "Good, 'cause it's not just your reputation on the line now." "Aye, aye, boss." She actually saluted me. "I won't let you down."

I looked up into her eyes. They were smiling, her eyes. They were stunning, and I just wanted to stare at them. Mitch let go of my shoulder and pulled away. "You okay, Cindy?" I pulled away and took a deep breath. "Yeah, fine. Let's go play." On the court we started to warm up, and I kept getting distracted by the way she moved. I'd seen it a hundred times before, and I was always mesmerized by it. Today, though, there was something more. Maybe it was the extra confidence from passing her exam, but she had an extra bounce in her step, a brighter glimmer in her smile. Mitch was certainly inspired by her success, so we upped our tutoring sessions to twice a week, and occasionally even more than that. And she was confident now, so when I set her problems she didn't have that look of fear anymore. It was wonderful to see. But it wasn't nearly as wonderful as hanging out with her afterwards, with her easy humor and unreserved joy in whatever we were doing, be it playing a game or watching a show. Mitch shut off the TV after we finished an episode of Buffy. "So, what's going on with Ethan? You haven't talked about him much, recently." "Well, I saw the doctor, or nurse practitioner, or whatever. The stuff she prescribed makes it not hurt. And after talking with him, he understands that I have to put it on first." "Doesn't sound very romantic." "It's not. And he tried, at first, but I think he's starting to distance." A tear formed in my eye. "I don't know why I can't be normal. Nobody else has this problem." "It's okay." She pulled me into a hug. I remembered when I'd balk at any contact between Mitch and I. Now I craved these little moments, any time she touched me was special. Finally the last week of the season was on us, and I was hanging out with Mitch after our last practice of the year. She was showing me her latest exam, another B, which meant that she only needed a C on the final to make a C in the class, and she would have to completely bomb to flunk the course again. We

were going over her first exam for the umpteenth time, the one she'd done so poorly on, and I was confident that she finally had it. "Alright. You're going to nail this thing." I set my pen down just as my phone chimed. I picked it up, and my heart dropped through my chest as I read the text. Ethan -- I don't think this is working. I'm sorry, but we should see other people. I let the phone tumble out of my hand and onto the floor, sitting back in my chair as a wash of numbness rolled over me. "Cindy?" Mitch's tone was concerned, and she reached down to pick up my phone. She looked at the screen. "Oh damn, I'm sorry." "No you're not. You always hated him. You wanted me to break up with him" "I hated that he didn't make you happy. That you for some reason felt beholden to a relationship that you didn't want to be in." She reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. "But I'm sorry you're sad." I shrugged her off and spun away. "This just reinforces everything for you, doesn't it. We should all be gay, right?" "Cindy!" She was hurt. God, this was not her fault. A tear formed as I closed my eyes and turned around. "I'm sorry. I just," the tears began to flow and I covered my mouth with my hand, fighting my emotions. Mitch stepped forward, putting her hands on my shoulders, and I went into her embrace, sobs shaking loose from my chest. "What's wrong with me, Michelle?" "Nothing. You're perfect. Beautiful and smart and you have such a good heart." Her hand stroked the back of my head as I leaned on her shoulder. God, this felt amazing. Why couldn't being with Ethan feel like this? Would I ever be able to find a man where it did? Was I just broken? I let myself just rest in the arms of my friend, tightening our embrace as I cried on her shoulder. She held me, firmly but gently, whispering in my ear that it would be okay, until I finally settled.

She let me go and pulled away, and I felt a definite loss as she did. Her finger lifted my chin so I was looking in her eyes, those gorgeous, intensely blue eyes. "Okay, Spencer, this is what we're gonna do. We're gonna get the girls together, and order pizza and watch 'Thelma and Louise' or some other manhating movie, and we're just going to chill out." Somehow I managed a laugh. "That's the best you got?" "Well, we have a match tomorrow, so the options are limited. But after we finish kicking ass tomorrow I'm going to take you out to properly commiserate." "Okay." Mitch pulled me into another hug, which lasted far too short a time for my taste. In less than an hour a bunch of members of the team and a few of our other friends were crowded into the room. We didn't actually watch 'Thelma and Louise'. I don't actually remember what we did see, although I put a hard veto on the suggestion of 'Magic Mike'. There was a lot of gossip and a little male bashing, but mostly I remember sitting on Mitch's bed leaning against her, letting her hold me as our friends surrounded us, talking and laughing. Eventually Mitch walked Carrie and meout of her dorm, and I gave Mitch another hug before we walked across the quad. Carrie gave me a look. "You two seemed cuddly." "She's my best friend. We didn't do anything wrong." "I didn't say 'wrong', I said 'cuddly'." "I was emotionally distraught. And Mitch gives really good hugs. Normal, friendly, platonic hugs. Besides, she knows I'm straight." Okay, change the subject. "So did you blow off Stephan for tonight?" "Yeah, I told him a friend needed me. It's not going to survive the summer anyway. It may not survive finals week." Carrie had been dating her current beau for just two months, and she was pretty unenthusiastic about him. But as we talked I thought about what she'd said. I wasn't a touchy-feely person by nature, but being close to Michelle was so easy. Maybe it was because she wasn't a guy, and there wasn't that tension of me trying to enjoy it. I knew what Carrie was implying, but I'd been on almost a dozen road trips with Mitch,

and I'd spent multiple nights in the same room or leaning on her on the bus. If she were going to try something she'd have done it. *** I actually woke up the next morning feeling great. Maybe it was the fact that I didn't have to worry about whether Ethan was going to show, but I did feel like a weight had been lifted, just like Mitch had said I would. And I was looking forward to going out and partying like a single girl tonight. I never really had let my hair down with Mitch at a party. It was bound to be an experience. Our final match went well, Mitch and I won our doubles set 6-1, and both Carrie and Mitch won their matches handily. Overall the team went 7-0 to secure the conference championship. The party started in the locker room immediately after with, again, much music and an extremely unfortunate amount of dancing. We even got Coach Holiday to show us some moves, which were surprisingly not terrible. Luckily the seniors were the ones who had to deal with the press, so us three Freshmen were able to sneak away. We parted on the corner, each preparing to head back to our dorms and get ready for our night out. We decided to meet back in front of Mitch's dorm in an hour. I made it back to my room and was standing in front of my tiny little wooden wardrobe/closet thingy trying to figure out what I was going to wear. I didn't own any party clothes, so to speak, nothing racy or sexy. And I wanted to be sexy tonight. I knew Mitch was going to look amazing, and I wanted her to rue the fact that I was straight. Now why did that thought cross my mind? I tried to picture what she might wear. Maybe a tight white T-shirt, a pair of jeans, her hair slicked back, a belt accentuating her trim waist. I put my hand to my neck and stretched, trying to banish the image and the uncomfortable heat that I felt when I pictured her. No, this was about the boys. Tonight I was going to turn their heads and leave them wanting, but not getting, more. I was going to get a little even. If I could find something to wear. The door opened and my roommate walked in, wearing a towel around her torso and another over her hair. "Hey, whatcha doing?"

"My friends from the team are taking me out." "Oh, because of Ethan?" Her voice dripped with pity. Lana thought being dumped by someone as hot and rich as Ethan Richardson was nothing short of a Greek tragedy. "It's good. Get out there. Just something for fun." She dropped her towel, revealing her perfect hourglass figure. My eyes went wide and I turned away from the view of her perfect backside. "So what are you going to wear?" I turned back to my wardrobe, such as it was. "I have nothing. Absolutely nothing. I want to turn heads tonight." "You wanna wear something of mine?" To say Lana had different taste in clothes than me was a little like saying Lions and Zebras had different food preferences. She was a sweet girl, but she dressed to kill, and I honestly wasn't sure if there was anything in her closet in which I'd be willing to be seen in public wearing. At least, before today. "Okay, let's do it." Twenty minutes later we had half of the clothes she owned laid out on the bed. At least Lana had gotten dressed first. "Ooh, I know, I've got it. Do you have a black bra? A nice one?" "Actually, yes." It was probably the one nice piece of lingerie I owned, so I grabbed it out of my top dresser drawer. It was simple, plain black, with a shiny exterior. It gave my modest bust a bit of cleavage. I held it up over my shirt. "What do you think?" "Oh, that's perfect," she turned and pulled something filmy out from her dresser, "for this." She held up a fishnet jumpsuit top. It had long sleeves and a high neck, along with an over the hip cut on the side. My eyes went wide. If I wore that, the only thing covering me above the waist would be that bra. But still, I wanted to be daring. Once I had it on I turned slowly in the mirror. "Damn, girl you look good." I giggled. "Thanks. So what's next?" Lana quickly determined that I didn't have any distressed jeans. My parents would never let me have any, so she pulled out a pair of her own that

had holes in both thighs, among others scattered around. I squeezed into them and buttoned the fly. "They're a little tight." "That's the idea, and they're perfect." Lana stood back. "Wow, you are going to blow the boys' minds tonight. After we fix the hair. And the make-up." I was five minutes late getting to Mitch's dorm. My blonde hair was pulled over to the side and my make-up was perfect. Carrie covered her mouth with her hand as the shock registered, but all I could really see was Mitch. Her mouth dropped open, as whatever she'd been saying to Carrie died on her lips. Her eyes went wide, drinking me in. It was the perfect compliment. I could feel her gaze like a caress, and it made me shiver. My cheeks began to heat in the cool night air, and I dropped my head down and to the side, running my fingers through my blonde hair. Carrie was still laughing as I reached them. "Oh my God, Cindy, you look amazing! Where did you get those clothes?" "From Lana. You really like it?" I was looking at Mitch, her perfect blue eyes finding mine, finally. Mitch nodded slowly. "Yeah, I like it. You're... stunning." My blush intensified at the desire in her voice. I shook it away. I didn't want her to get the wrong idea. "Yeah, too bad for you." Carrie shook her head. "You are going to have guys hanging off you tonight." I made a face and shook my head. "Mm, no thanks. I just want to go dancing." Mitch recovered her bravado. "Let's make that happen. The Beta Delts are having their traditional pre-finals party, and they have a huge dance floor." I smirked at Mitch. "Sounds like you've been there before. Sure they'll let you back in?" "Are you kidding? They sent me a personal invitation." Carrie laughed. "Sure they did." We started to walk, and I let myself look at what Mitch was wearing. It was almost exactly what I'd pictured, a simple tight white T-shirt and jeans with a

wide belt. A loose fitting jean jacket completed the outfit. Her hair was combed and slicked back, which really accentuated the fine features of her face. She was so striking. We could hear the noise before we even got to their street, and apparently no one on campus wanted to pass up this one last chance to party before the semester ended. It took less than thirty seconds of being inside before I was being offered a cup of beer, which I gladly took and slammed down. "Gaah! That's strong." Mitch nodded, just sipping her own. "Yeah, they're probably putting a little something extra in it. That'll get you drunk quick. Be careful." I shook my head. "No careful tonight. I want to dance." I took another cup and drank half. I could feel the liquid courage course through my veins. Mitch was right, I didn't drink often, and I was definitely a lightweight. But if I wanted to really let my hair down I was going to need some help, and that was it. Besides, with Mitch there I felt very safe. Carrie got asked to dance, and she was quickly swept away onto the floor, and we waved to a few other people we knew. I grabbed Michelle's hand. "C'mon, come dance with me." "Okay, okay." She followed me laughing onto the floor. The DJ was pumping out a beat, and I let myself start to move to the music. Everyone who knows me can attest that I am not a good dancer, but with a few drinks in me I wasn't caring much. The last time we were off the floor, a girl walked by and smiled at Mitch. I didn't like that, feeling a spike of jealousy, so I immediately pulled her back onto the floor. Once we'd started dancing, I'd felt bad. I mean, I wasn't looking for a guy, and I'd rebuffed the several approaches I'd had tonight, but that didn't mean Mitch shouldn't meet someone. But she was my friend and she came here with me. And I liked it when we danced. It was nice. Besides, the more I danced, the more Michelle smiled. And I liked seeing her smile. She really was pretty. Or handsome. Or pretty handsome. "What are you laughing at?" I tried, unsuccessfully, to wipe the silly grin off my face at my drunken, internal witticism. "Nothing, I like your jacket." I moved closer to Mitch, holding on to her denim collar. It was our third or fourth trip to the dance floor, if not

more, and I was well past tipsy from the thirst quenching I'd partaken in between sessions. Mitch wasn't inebriated at all, just sipping her way through a couple of non-spiked beers over the several hours. Mitch created some distance between us, and I pouted internally. If she'd gone off with that girl, she'd be dancing closer with her. Why didn't she want to dance close with me? I was her friend. I weaved a rhythm with my hips, pulling my hair up with my hands and exposing my neck. A glance up told me I had Mitch's undivided attention and I moved closer. As I did the music changed, the driving beat from a moment ago changing into a slow, sensuous tempo. Mitch took a breath, centering herself. "Should we go sit down?" I shook my head. "I don't wanna stop yet." I slid my arms around her waist and lay my head on her shoulder. "Dance with me." I closed my eyes and felt the closeness of her. She was warm and soft and it felt so good. Her arms tightened around me, and that felt wonderful, too. A tear slipped free as I prayed the music would never end. If it did I'd have to wake up, and I'd be alone again. Maybe forever. The music slowed and I started to get scared, but another slow song started without any real silence, and Mitch just kept swaying to the rhythm, taking me with her. Eventually the music did stop, and I looked up into Mitch's lovely eyes. "Hey, Cindy, I think it's time to go home." Oh my God, she was taking me home! What did that mean? I couldn't think straight, but I let her lead me off the floor. We headed out, and Mitch slipped an arm around my waist as we walked in the bright moonlight. For a moment my alcohol-addled brain thought she might be trying to cop a feel, but looking back I'm pretty sure she was just trying to keep me from falling down, seeing as every random air molecule that struck me was causing me to stagger slightly. Wow, I'd never been this drunk. And I really liked having Mitch's arm around me. God, did I really think that? What was I doing? And why was the street spinning? I leaned against Mitch's shoulder as we walked. That was nice. "C'mon, Spencer, let's go." Mitch turned me left and up a set of stone steps. She swiped her ID and the door opened, and I stumbled inside. Mitch

caught me by the arm and pulled me back into her arms, me giggling like an idiot as she did. "Oops. I feel spinny." Mitch laughed. "Yeah, I bet. Let's go to the elevator. I'm not going to try to make you climb four flights of stairs." "Are we going to bed?" I giggled at the naughtiness of my statement, or at least what my foggy brain perceived as such. "Yes, we are, where you are going to Sleep. It. Off." "Aww." "Cindy, stop that. Please." There was a definite note of pain in her voice, which confused me, but I had no chance of wrapping my head around it in my current state. The elevator door opened, and we, or rather I, stumbled inside, Mitch keeping me upright. I could feel the fatigue start to wash over me when the door closed. "No, no. No sleepies for you, not yet." "Aww." Somehow we made it into Mitch's room. "Okay, my roommate is gone for the weekend, so you can crash here." Crashing, yeah, crashing sounded awesome. I needed to lie down. "Okay, you're not sleeping in that. C'mon, let's get it off." I sat on the bed and tried to unbutton my jeans. God, these things were super tight. I groaned, laying back and trying to push the denim material down over my hips. Mitch went down on one knee. "Just a second, shoes first." She picked up my left foot and slipped off the red canvas tennis shoe I was wearing. She peeled off my ankle sock and stuffed it into the shoe, then repeated on the other side. "Okay, now jeans." I flopped around, trying to get them off while she pulled them down by the ankles, and the jeans finally came free. The bare skin of my legs revelled in the cool air, and I stayed prone on the bed. I heard Mitch open a drawer in her dresser.

"Okay, come on, sit up." I gave a pathetic whimper as she pulled me up before slipping the body suit I was wearing off my shoulders. She drew it down my body, and I lifted my hips so she could slide it off. I was disappointed she hadn't tried to release the snappy crotch. No I wasn't, that would be touching too close, but the thought of it made me tingle all over. Without thinking I reached back and released my bra, letting it fall onto the floor. Now the only thing I was wearing were my panties. I was almost naked. In Mitch's room. Oh my god. I started to giggle, particularly after I saw Mitch pull her eyes away from my bare breasts. "Okay, arms up." She was a little breathless, but her voice was strong, and I obeyed. She stood over me and pulled a T-shirt down my body, covering me to below my waist. "Comfy enough? Can you sleep in that?" I was frowning. I didn't want her putting clothes on me. That wasn't fun, but I nodded and she tucked me under her roommate's covers. My jaw dropped open as Mitch shimmied her own jeans off, revealing a pair of blue boxers underneath. She turned away, and I watched, mesmerized, as she unbuttoned and dropped her shirt and pulled off her sports bra, revealing her muscular back and trim waist. My mouth began to water, and I couldn't look away. She reached into her dresser and pulled out a tank top, which she slipped on before shutting off the light and climbing into her own bed. This wasn't right. I didn't like this. I don't sit over here. I sit over there, with Michelle. Where she could hold me. I liked it when she held me. I gave an unhappy moan. I didn't like these sheets. "Go to sleep, Cindy." There was a begging note in Mitch's voice, but hearing it just made me want to be closer to her. I pulled off the covers and climbed out of bed. Two shaky steps got me across the room. "Cindy?" "Don't wanna sleep alone. Wanna sleep with you." I pulled back the covers and climbed into Mitch's embrace, snuggling into her warmth. Oh, yeah, just like on the dance floor, this was heaven. Mitch drew the covers around us and held me close. "Okay, just for tonight." "Mmm." I put my arms around her, burying my face into her neck. God, she smelled good. My cheek brushed against hers. She pulled away slightly, and

my face turned towards her. My eyes closed, and I felt my lips brush against hers. Energy coursed through my body, and the drunken fog in my brain lifted for a single moment, and I kissed her. Her lips moved against mine, and I could feel my body tremble. Her mouth left mine as she pulled me close, and wrapped in her warmth the haze closed back around me, this time bringing blackness with it. *** When I opened my eyes, I had about thirty seconds before the pounding in my head started, and they were wonderful. Mitch's warm body was pressed against mine, her arm draped over my middle, and my hand was resting on hers. It felt nice, comfortable, and I was happy for a beautiful second before the splitting headache and blind panic set in. Oh my god, what happened? Why the hell am I in Mitch's bed? What did I do? I took stock. I was wearing clothes, a T-shirt at least. And, um, I slid my hand down over my hip just to be sure, yes, I was wearing underwear. Thank God. I could see the jeans I'd had on laying on the floor, and my bra was over there. I had a vague recollection of taking them off, or Mitch helping me take them off. Oh my God, Mitch had undressed me. What had she been thinking? What'd I been thinking? The fog lifted a little and I remembered staggering back to the room and Mitch tucking me in. Her roommate's bed was unmade. That's right, she'd put me in the other bed to start. And then I'd, oh, shit. I had to get out of here, I needed to go somewhere and think. I lifted Mitch's arm as gently as I could, sliding out and putting my bare feet on the cold floor. Mitch rolled away, facing the wall, but she didn't give any sign she was awake. I grabbed the jeans, pulling them on and tucking in the shirt I was wearing before gathering up the rest of my clothes. I put my hand on the doorknob and looked back at Mitch for a moment before heading out into the hall. *** The sun was well above the horizon, beating its incessant light into my aching head as I made my way back to my dorm. I slipped into my room, closing the door as quietly as I could, but even the soft click from the latch made my head throb. I slipped off my shoes before pulling open the top drawer of my dresser and grabbing a bottle of Aleve and shaking two into my hand. "Hey, girl. You hook up?"

Oh, brother, I hoped not. "No, no. Got drunk. Stayed in my friend Michelle's room. Her roommate was gone." I pulled a bottle of Gatorade out of our mini fridge and used it to swallow the pills before flopping down onto my mattress and burying my head under my pillow. Jana chuckled. "You need to eat something." I groaned, my stomach doing a flip in protest of that idea. I didn't want to think about food. "I'm serious." Jana rolled towards me. "Go get a shower, get dressed, and go down and have some breakfast. Make sure to have a glass of OJ. It'll help, trust me." I didn't want to believe her. I wanted to just lie here until this feeling went away. Or until I died. At this point I'd take either one. But I couldn't lie around all day. I had to study for finals, which started Monday. The water running over my body felt good, and surprisingly the food made me feel better, giving me some energy. I was just starting to feel human again, my econ book and notes open on my desk, when my phone dinged. Mitch -- Cindy, are you okay? I couldn't talk to her right now. I mean I'd climbed into bed with her. I remembered her holding me. And, oh my god. My phone tumbled out of my hand and onto the desk as the memory of the kiss blared to life inside my head. I'd kissed her. I'd kissed Mitch. ^ding^ Mitch -- Please at least let me know you got back to your dorm. What was I going to do? How the hell was I going to ever talk to her again? And the kiss, I remembered the way it felt. It had been amazing. No, no, I couldn't think about that. I'd been drunk. It hadn't meant anything. I was not interested in Mitch like that. I wasn't gay. I needed to breathe. I turned my phone to silent, putting it face down on my desk. I tried to focus, but my brain just wouldn't cooperate. My phone buzzed, and I couldn't help turning it over. Mitch -- You know nothing happened last night. Mitch -- I mean between us.

But that wasn't true. We may not have had sex, but something did happen. I picked up my phone. Mitch -- Please talk to me. I took a deep breath and typed something out. Me -- I'm okay. Need time to think. Mitch -- Okay. I'm here when you want to talk. I turned back to my studies, and my phone stayed silent for the rest of the afternoon. *** I let myself immerse in my studies, each exam looming up like a monster to slay, and I let each upcoming academic battle distract me from the war going on in my head about Michelle. She texted me after her College Algebra final on Tuesday. Mitch -- Nailed it! And by that I mean, of course, I didn't totally bomb. All 'cause of you! Mitch -- I miss you. That brought a tear to my eye. I hadn't gone this long without talking to her since Coach had paired us together. And I missed her, too. *** "So, Mitch says you're not talking to her? What happened?" I dropped my gaze at Carrie's question. "Nothing. I just want to do well on my finals." She looked at me askance. "I thought you disapproved of lying." "What? Hanging with Mitch isn't exactly conducive to study, and you know it." "She's been studying. Really. She's also been in a bad mood." I felt a spike of guilt in my heart. "Really? Like angry?" Was she mad at me? "Not angry, more, um, sad. Distracted. What happened after that party?"

I could feel my cheeks turning red, and I took another bite of my grilled chicken sandwich to hide it. "Nothing. I was drunk. First time ever. She took me back to her room, and I passed out." "She took you to her room?" Carrie's eyes were wide. "Yeah. I've been in her room a bunch of times. She wouldn't do anything." "I know that, but still. Are you sure it wasn't more?" I put an edge on my voice. "I was clothed when I woke up. And I'm not gay. Mitch wouldn't do that. Not to me." My voice dropped at the end. "Sounds like you're trying to convince yourself." I just played with my food for a second until she continued. "You don't seem like yourself either. Cindy, I saw the two of you dancing. That isn't how friends dance. I know you two have gotten really close. Are you sure you're being honest with yourself about this?" "Honest? About what?" "Cindy, you guys spend all kinds of time together, I've seen you cuddling when we've watched movies and on the team bus." "We weren't cuddling!" "Fine, you were leaning against her while she had her arms around you. And she hasn't been joking about hooking up at all for the last few months. And you're supposed to be rooming together next year. I'm not the only one who's wondered." "We're just friends! I don't know how she feels, but I can't be anything more to her. I'm not gay, I can't be gay. My parents would disown me, literally." I felt a cold wash of fear as I said it. It was true. They weren't the most hateful kind of bigots, but they'd never accept one of their children in a same sex relationship. I shook myself internally. It didn't matter. That wasn't what was happening. But, god, that kiss. No, this was the last time I was going to think about it. My last final was Thursday afternoon. My mom would be coming to pick me up in the morning. Mitch was done Thursday morning, with her education basics final. I knew she wasn't worried about that one. I wondered how she'd done on everything. I hadn't heard from her since her Algebra final, but when I finished with Calculus on Thursday there was a text.

Mitch -- Cindy, I hope your finals went well. We need to talk, at least, if you want to switch roommates we have to do that soon. Otherwise you'll be stuck with me next year. And that might be awkward if you're not speaking to me. I made it back to my dorm. Lana's half of the room was empty; she'd headed out a few hours ago. I sat on my bed and stared at Mitch's text. She seemed like her normally goofy, flippant self, but I could feel the hurt underneath. Or maybe I was projecting. This had been the worst week since I'd been in Athens, without question, and the reason was simple. I missed my best friend. I stared at her contact icon for a moment before I took a deep breath and pressed the button. It didn't even finish the first ring before she answered. "Hey! Hi! How are you?" "I don't want a different roommate." I was crying. Why the hell was I crying? Damn, but it was good to hear her voice. "God, Cindy, I don't either." "Are you still here?" "No, sorry. I'm about an hour south of the Florida/Georgia line. My dad picked me up. You?" "My mom is coming to get me tomorrow morning. By Saturday I'll be wearing that stupid uniform, I guarantee it." I'd worked all last summer in my Uncle's diner, complete with green and white checked waitress outfits. Mitch lowered her voice to trucker territory. "So what are the specials, peaches?" I smiled, not able to stop myself. "Whatever they are, they'll be disgustingly fattening and wrapped in bacon." "Sounds delicious. 'Course, I'd cause a minor panic just walking into town." "Not until they realize you aren't a guy." "I'll just wear an extra tight shirt when I visit. 'Mommy? Why does that man have boobies?' And then they'd chase me down the street, holding crosses and throwing holy water at me."

I laughed hard, wiping the tears from my eyes. "We're Baptists, we don't use holy water. Probably torches instead." "Well, I guess that's a plus." There was silence for a moment, while I tried to find my voice against the emotions rising in my chest. "Cindy..." "I'm sorry." The evident concern in her voice shook me, and I was able to get out an apology. Mitch's voice was soft and gentle. "It's okay. I just was afraid I'd screwed up our friendship. Did I?" "You? I'm the one who ran away." "Yeah, but I, uh, you know nothing happened, right? You just fell asleep." "Mitch, I kissed you." "You remember that, huh?" Did I remember it? The kiss stood out like a beacon among the rest of my admittedly fuzzy recollections of the night. The simple fact that it had happened, on top of the way it made me feel, was incredibly confusing. But the most mind bending part was that I had kissed her. If it had been the other way around, well, god, I don't know what I'd be feeling. But that wasn't what happened. "Yeah, I remember it. I'm sorry." "I meant after, nothing happened." "I know." What a lie. I'd woken up in Mitch's arms, and that had been amazing. And the dancing. I pushed that thought away. I wasn't gay. I couldn't be gay. And I was pretty sure Mitch was immune to whatever charms I possessed, anyway, since she'd never hit on me. At least, not since we'd become friends, and before then it'd just been her normal joking around. Right? "Good, 'cause I have strict rules about seducing my friends." Her voice got softer, like she had the phone away from her ear. "Yeah. There's a Culver's at the next exit. Stop there?" "You with your dad?" "Yeah. I said that. Did you think I was hitchhiking?" I giggled. "No."

"I'll just be glad next year when I can bring my truck." "Of course you have a truck." "What self-respecting butch doesn't?" "Some drive Jeeps." "I've heard that, but that's a type of truck. In my opinion." I smiled, pulling my knees up to my chest and hugging them as I talked with my friend. The world hadn't ended, and everything was going to be okay. ***** I tried to remind myself of that Sunday morning as I sat in church. I'd dutifully put on my best smile, answering all the well-meaning inquiries from people I hadn't seen since Christmas. Yes, my studies were going well, no I wasn't seeing anyone. Not a single one asked about my tennis season. Nice girls didn't play competitive sports, after a certain age at least. I thought that was prehistorically chauvinistic, but I wasn't surprised by it, and it wasn't going to stop me from playing. The sermon had started about something random, but somehow it swung back around to families, and I listened as the pastor bemoaned the loss of family values in the country, how the acceptance of things like homosexuality were eroding the foundations of our society. I thought about Mitch, and the night we'd talked in the hotel room. She wanted marriage, a family, someone to love and who'd love her in return. Someone to invest her life in, to raise children with. How that wasn't conducive to family values I had no idea. Why the hell did it matter, to God or anyone else, who you chose to do that with? Of course the first time Mitch had called I'd almost had a heart attack, since the picture on my phone showed her very short hair and her name came up as 'Mitch', even though the picture was clearly a woman. I didn't want to answer any awkward questions regarding who that was. I quickly took down the picture and changed her contact name to Michelle. I also made sure that when I talked about my roommate for next year I called her Michelle, and I made a casual reference or two to her boyfriend, Jimmy. Looking back, it's not something I'm terribly proud of, but it seemed both clever and expeditious at the time.

My mother bemoaned the ending of my relationship with Ethan, as did my little sister, Charlotte. She was ten, and just starting to wonder if boys weren't quite as icky as she had once thought. Mom was almost instantaneous in bringing up several of the recently single young men in town. I'm pretty sure she kept a list, in case I ever needed it. During every wedding we'd attended over the years I saw the envious look in her eye, and I know she desperately wanted to be the one getting all the compliments. It wasn't an unhealthy obsession or anything; I think she just wanted her turn. And, naturally, I just had no interest in providing it right now. So it was summer. Boring. I had the traditional awkward get-togethers with high school friends that I hadn't seen since graduation, and with whom I no longer had anything in common. I talked to Mitch most days. She was spending her summer pulling and delivering auto parts to service centers, but she seemed to be out on the water and at the beach half of the time. I was jealous, but she was constantly telling me I needed to come visit, and looking around my small, extremely boring, town, there's nothing I wanted more. One thing I did notice was that she never mentioned any girls, either relationship-wise or just casual hook ups, even when I gently teased her about it. I think she actually got a little flustered when I would. She never asked if I'd met anyone here, which of course would have been met with a resounding 'no'. The best thing about being home was about one week into June I got a phone call from Tiwana, my friend from my high school tennis team, asking if I wanted to go hit. I answered with an emphatic yes, and we met out at our old stomping grounds at the school. "Hey, girl!" I squealed and ran toward her, my arms outstretched for a hug. "It's so good to see you! How was school?" "It was amazing! Getting out of this redneck town, so good. Almost feels weird to be back." She set down her Hampton bag. "And it's kinda cool not being the only black girl in school." Hampton is a historically black college, and it was where her parents had met. Quite a change from the lily-white high school we'd attended, I'm sure. "Yeah, I can imagine."

We went from just hitting around to playing a full match. Tiwana had improved substantially, shoring up that backhand that had been a weakness before and serving more confidently and smarter. But I'd improved too, and I took both sets. Afterwards we drove over to the local ice cream stand and sat at a shaded table. "So what's Georgia like?" "Big. SO big. Any one of the buildings on Campus is twice the size of Marin." "Yeah, but that doesn't take much." "True. How about you? Good year?" "Oh, yeah. It's really starting to feel like my place, instead of my parents', if you know what I mean. Every time they'd take me up there they would talk in this, like, secret language. But now I get it, like I'm really in the club. And mom and dad are ridiculous. Just like, beaming. They came to every one of my matches this year." I shook my head, feeling a little jealous. "My parents still haven't come to see me. But then again that might be a good thing." Tiwana's brow crinkled. "Why?" "Because of who I'm playing doubles with. Short hair, won't wear skirts, we call her Mitch." Tiwana covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, my god. Is she gay?" "Oh, yeah. Out and proud. She's also hysterically funny and hugely outgoing." "So kinda like the anti-you." "Yeah. But she's great. We've actually gotten really close. I coached her through her math class last semester. We're rooming together next year." "Your dad is going to let you room with a lesbian?" "My dad is letting me room with a girl named Michelle, who as far as he knows has a boyfriend named Jimmy, and whom he has never met. And I think it should stay that way." "You are just rooming with her, right?"

"Tiwana!" She laughed and held up her hands. "Sorry. That's on me. Illicit love affairs, and all." She was blushing. "What do you mean?" She got real grinny, her eyes twinkling. "I'm dating a white boy from Old Dominion." "Seriously? Do your parents know?" "God, no." "I think they'd be okay." "Maybe. He'd win them over eventually. He's a sweetie." She pulled out her phone, and we spent the next thirty minutes showing each other pictures. As we did, I noted how many of the pictures I'd taken over the year had Mitch in them, and also in how many of those she was touching me, and how similar we were in those shots to the pics Tiwana was showing me of her and her boyfriend. Tiwana's voice got serious. "Are you sure there's nothing going on between you two? You know you could tell me if there were." I laughed it off. "No. That's just how Mitch is, she's really touchy-feely. With everyone. It's just her way." But I knew that wasn't true. I mean, it was, she touched everyone, the girl was very free with her hugs and back rubs and such. But she didn't sit casually with her arms around anyone but me. I wondered how hurt I would be if she did. I shook the thought away as Tiwana and I planned out the next time we'd be able to sneak away to the courts. When Mitch called that night I was almost a little scared to pick up, since the questions Tiwana had raised were still swirling around in my head, but as soon as I answered everything was fine. She was just so easy to talk to, and the sound of her voice made everything okay. *** And so the summer passed, agonizingly slowly. It was odd. I remembered when I was a kid the summer's had gone by in a blink. Now I just wanted to get back to my real life in Athens. The one thing that was an issue was move-in day. My father had taken a day off work so he could help me, since I still couldn't afford a car, but it was

paramount to my mind that he not meet Mitch. I was really nervous to bring it up with her, but as it was she took it like a champ. "I'll try to get in late. I'm driving so there shouldn't be any issue. Just call me when the coast is clear." Sure enough, when my dad and I arrived Mitch's half of the room was still empty. "I was really hoping to get to meet this roommate of yours, Cindy." "You never met my last roommate. I survived that." "Your last roommate was randomly assigned. This one you chose. That's the difference. It's important to be able to work with all kinds of people, but those you choose to surround yourself with, you have to be more discerning." Years of practice allowed me to refrain from rolling my eyes. Dad loved his little mini-sermons, and it was best to just endure them. It kept him in a good mood. "Yes, daddy." "When do you think she'll be here?" "She's driving in from Tampa, so not till late." Eventually I managed to shoo him out the door with a hug and enduring a few more stern words about not compromising my ethics and morals. I went to the window and watched him walk out to the car and actually drive away before I sat down on my bed and called Mitch. "Yell-ow?" "He's gone." "That's good. 'Cause if I have to drink any more coffee, I'm not going to get any sleep tonight." "You're already here?" "Yep, just down the road, friendly neighborhood Starbucks. Be there in five." I almost ran down to the parking lot to wait for Mitch. I knew she'd be driving a pickup, but I had no idea what it looked like. So I watched the incoming

traffic, of which there was a lot, with an amazingly high percentage of trucks, I might add. Somehow I knew hers when I saw it, though. It was blue, a little muddy, and just so her. I waved, and she was close enough for me to see the smile that spread across her face when she saw me. She was able to pull right up to the dorm entrance, and she stepped out of the cab. "Hey!" I could feel my cheeks stretching into a huge grin of my own, and I found myself running to her. She spread her arms and I went into them without thinking twice. She just pulled me close and rocked me back and forth. "God, Spencer it's good to see you." I didn't pull away, even though I was not the PDA type. She was so warm, and it felt like I was home. The hug lingered for a moment longer, and I could feel myself relaxing into it when she pushed me away. I almost said something to protest, but then I remembered we were outside the dorm with a dozen other students looking on, so I stepped away. "Okay. Boxes?" I was flushed, and I knew it, but it was hot out. Mitch just nodded, that smile still on her face as she thumbed towards the back of the truck. "Yup." Half an hour later we had everything up into the room and the two of us were unpacking. I'd been surprised how neat Mitch's room had been when I'd seen it last year, but I wondered if it was that way because she'd cleaned for me. But that didn't seem to be the case, as she carefully organized everything she put away. "Finally." Mitch stuffed her suitcase into the little closet. "We can relax. Pizza? My treat." "Absolutely." Just then there was a knock on the open door, and we turned to see Carrie standing in the doorway. "I'm in for that." Hugs were exchanged, and I noticed a significant difference between the way Mitch hugged Carrie and the way she hugged me. Well, we were better friends, I guess.

An hour later we had an extra large pepperoni and mushroom and an order of breadsticks. Mitch had managed to get the TV attached to the cable, and we had the night session of the U.S. Open starting. "Who's the women's match?" I squinted at the TV. "It's Simone Halep vs. a new Russian girl, Baraskova, or something." Carrie was staring fixedly at the T.V. "She's not Russian. She's Ukranian. And she's amazing. Have you seen her play?" We both admitted we hadn't. "You're in for a treat." The match started and it was fierce from the get go. Halep was more experienced, but Iryna Baraskova played with a youthful exuberance that made up for it. As they went to a third set, Mitch spoke up while Iryna was on the screen preparing to serve.. "I'm calling it. She's gay." Carrie turned around. "She is not! And you couldn't possibly know that. Besides, you say that about everyone." "No I don't. Halep isn't gay." Carrie looked back at the screen. "I don't care if she is or isn't. She's an amazing tennis player. She's gonna be number one in the world someday. And I like watching her play." I was sitting right next to Mitch, and she gave me a significant look Carrie couldn't see, and I remembered what she'd said that one night about Carrie herself. I didn't believe it, but still. I wondered if I'd ever be able to get a straight answer about the way she felt about me. She'd said she was always right, and since I wasn't gay, she wouldn't feel that way about me, so I guess it wasn't an issue. The match ended, Iryna pulling off the upset. That made Carrie happy, like really happy, and for a moment I wondered if Michelle was correct, that Carrie had herself a little girl crush. Not like it would matter, but it was something to think about. Carrie went back to her room, and Mitch and I got ready for bed. "You want to watch the men's match for a while?"

I grimaced. "Who's playing?" "It's Federer vs. Brian Dabul." "Ugh. That's going to be ugly. How about just an episode of Buffy instead?" Mitch smiled and nodded. "Sure thing. Wanna come over here?" I looked over at her while she stood up and loaded the DVD. She was wearing what she always did to bed, a pair of boxers and a tank top. I was fully covered in my cotton PJs. Still, it hit me that this was our room, no roommates to worry about coming back, no coach knocking on the door. It was just Mitch and me, alone, in a room, all night, together. And the weird thing is that I wasn't nervous at all. "Sure." I crossed the room and sat on her bed, grabbing the blanket we usually used and spreading it out, holding her side open. Mitch snuggled in, putting her arm around me as she pulled up the DVD menu. I leaned against her shoulder, loving the feel of being close to her again. "Mmm. I missed this." Mitch gave me a squeeze. "Me too. You remember where we were?" "Oh, yeah. I know right where we were." I slipped my arm around her waist, something I'd never done before, but it felt so perfect. Friends did this, right? I looked up at Mitch, to see if it was bothering her, but she just smiled at me, those perfect blue eyes dancing a bit. "Okay, then here we go." She hit play. *** The first few weeks of school went great. I felt like I was back home, eating in the cafeteria, working out at the athletic center, going to classes again. And the classes were better, smaller, and with real chances to interact with my professors now that I'd gotten past the freshman weed-out classes. And Mitch was done with math, so she was a happy camper, academically at least, again. We went to a few parties; there were always a few good ones right after everyone got back from break, but there was something about Mitch that was different. She always left alone, usually with me. Maybe she wasn't sure about bringing someone to the room.

We were getting ready for a night out. "Hey, you know, if you want to have someone over, I'd be okay with it. You just have to let me know." "Hang a tie on the doorknob, you mean?" "I mean, you just, um, you haven't gone out with anyone since we got back." Why did saying that make me feel vaguely sick to my stomach? "Just haven't met anyone I'm interested in. You haven't either, y'know." I waved my hand. "No, no, I told you, I'm taking the year off from boyfriends." "That doesn't mean you can't hook up." "It does for me. I don't do hookups." I finished putting in my earrings, fake diamonds. "Y'know, Sherri was asking about you." Mitch smirked at me. "Sherri from downstairs?" "Yeah, she's in 215. She was asking if you were seeing anyone." "What did you tell her?" "No one that I know of. So, what do you think? Gonna ask her out?" I tried to keep the fear out of my voice. "Sherri?" Mitch shook her head. "She's nice, I guess, but I don't think I'm interested." I had to hold in my exhale. I hadn't realized it, but I'd been nervous about telling her. I mean, I didn't want to lose her to a relationship. Carrie had gotten herself a new boyfriend a few weeks ago, and we hadn't seen much of her since. Mitch didn't think it would last, but still. But at the same time I wanted her to be happy. I definitely didn't have the highest E.Q. in the world, but something told me Mitch wasn't really happy. Don't get me wrong, she was still sassy and bombastic and a lot of fun, but there was something off. I'd asked Carrie and some of our other friends about it, but they all said they hadn't noticed anything. I couldn't shake the feeling, though. *** I was being chased. Running through the streets of my hometown, but the buildings were strange, wrong. They were bigger, like the ones here on campus. It was night, and I couldn't see, but whatever was chasing me was getting closer. I could hear it breathing. I was so scared. I ran. There was an alley to my

left, and I turned into it. I could feel their footsteps echoing between the buildings. I dove into a small room, pulling the door shut. There was no way out, and something was pounding on the door. The room got smaller; they were going to get in. I tried to scream for help, but no sound would come. I heard my name, someone calling for me, looking for me. Oh, God, please find me. The door cracked open, and a hand reached in, inhumanly long fingers, the fear bone deep in my soul. "Cindy!" Help, oh god oh god help me please! I cowered into the corner, closing my eyes and curling into a ball. Something touched me, and I screamed, my voice finally finding purchase in my throat. I kicked and lashed out. Something was on top of me and I pushed it aside as I opened my eyes. "Cindy! Cindy, wake up." I was in my room, in my bed. Mitch was kneeling next to me, her hand on my shoulder, eyes wide with concern. I scrambled into a sitting position, my heart still hammering away in my chest. "Are you okay?" I started to cry, the emotions tearing through me. Mitch pulled me into a hug, and I clung to her, weeping on her shoulder as the adrenaline started to leave my system. Mitch held me gently to her, stroking my hair as my body shook. "It's okay, I've got you. You're safe, shh." I let myself rest in her strength for a second, her soft voice running like cool water over my nerves. My breathing slowly returned to normal and I pulled away, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. "I'm sorry." Mitch's fingers ran through my hair, which was wet with sweat. "Were you having a nightmare?" I nodded, sniffling once. "I get them sometimes, really bad ones." Mitch's eyes were concerned. "God, you're soaked." I pulled on my pajama top, which peeled away from my skin. I could feel the moisture on my back, too. A hand testing my pillow and sheets told me they

were also uncomfortably wet. I made an unhappy little noise, bending down to the floor and picking up the covers I'd kicked off in my panic. "Okay, you want to change?" I nodded. Mitch stood and helped me to my shaky feet. I went to my dresser and pulled out a fresh set of sleepwear, a loose pink top and shorts. As I changed I took a moment to towel off, while Mitch was doing something next to me. "You don't have another set of sheets, do you? 'Cause these need to be washed." I shook my head. We got new, clean sheets once a week on Fridays, which was several days away. I could take them down and wash them myself tomorrow, of course. Nothing like an evening in the laundry room. At least I could study there. Tonight was going to be uncomfortable though. And it was barely midnight. When I finished changing and turned back around Mitch had pulled the linens off, setting them in a pile at the foot of my bed. "Where am I supposed to sleep?" "Sleep with me." My mouth dropped open, and Mitch grinned and held up a hand. "I mean, in my bed. I'll even sleep on the floor if you want." I blushed and looked down. "I should be the one sleeping on the floor." "Huh-uh. You've had a bad enough night already." "I'd feel bad." "Do you want me to sleep up there with you?" "Kinda, yeah." I swallowed heavily, feeling my cheeks heat up. A vague memory of falling asleep in her arms after the infamous kiss swam to the front of my mind. "Would you just, um, hold me tonight?" Tears stung my eyes. "So the nightmares don't come back?" Mitch nodded. She looked scared, but I had no idea why. Shouldn't I be the one scared? And I was. But I was afraid of falling asleep again without her arms around me. I knew, instinctively, I guess, that I'd be safe there. There'd be no nightmares. I gave her a pleading look. I couldn't tell what her face said, even though I knew it was speaking volumes. Mitch nodded, sitting down on her bed

and pulling back the covers. She slid under them, scooting as far back toward the wall as she could. She held open the covers, and a tear ran down my cheek as I joined her. I turned my back toward her, and she situated the sheet and blanket around us. Our legs touched under the covers, and her palm rested on my waist. I could feel the warmth of her breath on my neck. "You okay, Cindy?" Was I okay? God, this felt so good. Yeah, I was okay. I reached up and put my hand on hers, pulling her arm around me. I pressed myself back against her. Her arm slipped under my head and I rested in her warmth. "Yeah. I'm good." It was amazingly easy to fall asleep. I woke still there, wrapped in her arms, and it was the most wonderful feeling. I glanced over at my digital clock. It was still twenty minutes till I had to get up for class, and I wasn't going to move from this spot until I had to. I ran my finger over her arm, which was draped softly over my waist. She stirred, her hand sliding up and holding my shoulder. She pulled me back against her, sighing softly into my neck, which sent a delicious shiver down my body. I'd been right, there were no more nightmares, and I felt rested. My mind told me I should be confused or scared, but I just wasn't. Unfortunately the numbers on my clock kept changing, and eventually I had to slip away to the showers and class. Mitch was generally adamant about no classes before ten, so she had some time, and I tried not to wake her. She was still asleep when I headed out to class, but when I finished my nine o'clock there was a text. Mitch -- Hey, how you doing? Me - I'm good. Slept good. After, at least. Mitch -- Awesome. See you at the gym tonight? Me -- Yeah. Thanks for last night, for being there. Mitch -- Always. The day passed as normally as possible, and if I had any anxiety about strangeness when I was with Mitch again, it evaporated as soon as I saw her bright smile. When we got back to the room I noticed my bed was made.

"Did you...?" "Yeah, I kind of washed your sheets." I looked at her, touched. "You're kind of awesome, you know that?" She started to say something, but I cut her off with a hug. "But I do need to get some work done." "Okay. I'll leave you to it." We looked at each other, and for a passing moment I thought she was going to kiss me. And I wasn't sure I'd stop her. But the moment passed, and I pulled away. I hit the books while Mitch went down to the lobby to watch a baseball game, mostly to get out of my hair, I think. She came back up to the room just before eleven. "You still working?" "Do you ever do homework?" She laughed and sat down on her bed. I rubbed my eyes and closed my laptop. It was late, and I was tired. "Are you going to bed?" "Yeah, I think so." Mitch flopped down. "You?" I nodded, standing up and stretching. "I'm gonna change and head down to the bathroom." I slipped on my pajamas, the same pair as last night, and headed down to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. When I got back to the room I was fighting back a yawn. I really was tired. I opened the door and stepped inside, putting my toiletry basket in its spot on my dresser. I looked at my bed. It was made, all nice and neat, and with clean sheets, thanks to Mitch. That was so sweet. Mitch was already under her covers. I looked at her, then back at my bed. I needed to just lie down. But last night had been so nice. And I didn't want another nightmare, and they tended to come in groups. I just stood there for what felt like an eternity, looking back and forth from bed to bed, and I felt so confused and scared.

Then, Mitch looked up at me and just raised her covers in invitation. The confusion in my mind vanished, and I crossed the room and climbed in next to her. My anxiety just vanished as she put her arm around me. This was perfect. *** I stood in the shower the next morning, just letting the water run over my body. Last night had been the best night's sleep I'd had in months, maybe longer. But I wasn't going to sleep with Mitch, um, I mean, sleep in MItch's bed tonight, though. I could sleep in my own bed, and I really didn't want Mitch getting the wrong idea. Not that she hadn't been the perfect gentlewoman, but she always was around me. I had a hard time concentrating on class today, which was not like me. I'd always been good at compartmentalizing my life. School, tennis, family, church, they had always been their own little circles, but now in college everything seemed to run together. Even in a huge place like Georgia, college was a microcosm of life. And my life was getting complicated. I needed some distance, and that started by sleeping in my own bed tonight. Luckily I had a study group after dinner. When I got back to the dorm Mitch was in the common room, watching football with a bunch of other people. "Hey? Join?" She motioned to the pseudo empty spot next to her. I took a deep breath and shook my head. "I got some stuff I gotta do." "Okay. Oh, come on! That's a hold!" One of the guys laughed. "He only tackled him. Big deal!" I took the opportunity to slip to the stairwell door, but I glanced back at Mitch as I went through. She looked back over her shoulder just at that moment and smiled at me. I felt my heart do a little flip, and I couldn't help but smile back. I was able to get an hour or two done on my Money and Banking reading, and I was finally starting to flag when the door opened and Mitch came in. "Hey, Cindy." "Hey, you have fun?" She walked up behind me. "More than you." She picked up my textbook. "Geez, this is dense."

"Hey, I like Econ." She set it back down, and I turned back to it for a moment before I felt surprisingly gentle hands on my shoulders, rubbing softly. I couldn't help letting go a sigh and leaning back. "Mmm, that's nice." "You're tense. Rough day?" "Just stuff on my mind." "Like what?" I looked up and smiled at her. God, she has beautiful eyes. "It's nothing. I'm just tired." "Okay. You coming to bed?" Everything I'd been arguing with myself came to a head in a moment. No, I was sleeping in my own, less confusing bed tonight. I had to. I opened my mouth to say so. "Yeah. I'll be there in a minute." Her smile just melted me, and twenty minutes later I was in her arms, and my heart sighed in happiness. This was so nice. I put my arm over hers and relaxed into sleep. I had a similar argument with myself every night for the next week, my internal protestations getting weaker and weaker with each passing day. And each night I looked more and more forward to sliding under the covers and into Mitch's arms. After a fortnight I'd stopped fighting it. It was Sunday, a lazy morning. Normally I had to get up way before Mitch did, and even on Saturday I was always up first. But Sundays were different. I just lay there, feeling her arms around me. She stirred behind me and pulled me tighter. "Good morning." "Morning." I ran my fingers absentmindedly over the soft skin of her arm. "So, do you hate that I keep hogging your blankets every night?" She nuzzled into my hair, which sent a deliciously pleasant shiver down my body. I had to stifle an audible sigh. "Yeah, it's horrible, having someone who keeps me warm." I turned around. It was incredibly intimate, our faces inches away from each other, legs touching under the covers, my arm on her waist, but it didn't feel awkward at all. In fact, it was the most natural thing in the world.

"But wouldn't you like, um, someone, who'd, you know," I started to blush, "keep you warmer?" "You mean someone to have sex with?" The heat in my cheeks doubled in intensity, which made Mitch smile. "That'd be nice, but I don't think all three of us would fit." I giggled. "Stop it. You know what I mean." She kept her smile, but I thought her eyes looked sad. "Don't worry about it. I'm just wondering how you're going to get any sleep when I'm gone next weekend." I felt a pang at the remembrance. Her cousin was getting married in Jacksonville on Saturday, and she was heading down to meet her parents there for the weekend. *** "So she's going to be gone all weekend?" Carrie set down with her grilled chicken sandwich. "Yeah. A wedding. I reckon she's aiming to find a curious bridesmaid to defile." It was weird. We used to joke about such things all the time, but now just saying it made me feel bad. Carrie gave me a funny look. "I don't really think that's something you have to worry about." "Pfft, I'm not worried. Why would I be worried? She can sleep with anyone she wants." And I'd have to sleep alone. I hated that idea. But I couldn't say that to Carrie. I hadn't confided in anyone regarding our recent unconventional sleeping arrangements. And, mind-blowingly, Mitch had been the soul of discretion. Carrie's strange look hadn't gone away, and I decided to push a little. Maybe Carrie'd noticed something I hadn't. "It is weird, though. She doesn't seem to be going out as much this semester. And I don't think she's been gone overnight once since we got back." "She's spending a lot of time with you, though."

"Well, yeah, she's my roommate, and my best friend. Why would that..." realization broke over me. "She is not interested in me like that! Besides, she's knows I'm not gay." "Right, 'cause no lesbian has ever fallen in love with her straight best friend." "In love?" My head swam for a second. Mitch, in love with me? A vision of her holding me in bed while kissing the back of my neck appeared in my head, me turning in her arms, us pressing our lips together. That same shiver passed through me, this time lingering in my, well, my somewhere. You can use your imagination. Carrie's face got serious. "Just be careful. I don't want one of you to hurt the other." I nodded. I didn't want to hurt Mitch. God, she was the most important person in my life, and that thought stayed with me all through my afternoon classes and study time. What if Carrie was right, and Mitch was in love with me? Or, at least, if she had feelings for me? Was I the reason she hadn't been out with anyone. And I'd pushed it, sleeping in her bed every night. God, that was so stupid. What had I been thinking? But the thought of her with another woman made me hurt inside. I knew our intimacy wouldn't survive either of us being really with someone. For the first time in a while I hesitated before climbing into bed with my friend. It was Thursday night, and Mitch would be leaving tomorrow afternoon. I told myself one last night here, and that I was going to enjoy it. On Friday night Carrie tried to get me to go out, but I refused. I ended up watching movies in my room alone until early in the morning. I woke up the next day in Mitch's bed, holding one of her shirts. I barely remembered grabbing it. What was going on with me? This is my decision. I would sleep in my own bed from now on. And I had to remind both Mitch and myself what I was. It didn't take much to find out where the parties were on Saturday night. I was going to go, I was going to dance, I was going to find a guy I was actually attracted to. I might even hook up. I worked out with Carrie as usual, and we went out and hit some. I told her about my plans for the night like they were no big deal, trying to convince

myself more than her I think. She said she wanted to go with me, but she had a date tonight. That was fine. I wasn't sure I could do this with an audience. When I made it back to my room I pulled out my tightest pair of jeans with a white, spaghetti strap halter top that I only owned because I'd promised my parents I'd never wear it without an over shirt. It showed both a bit of midriff and some cleavage, and it would do. I took time with my makeup, trying to be a little more daring while pushing the voice of my mother, which insisted on slut shaming me, to the back of my head. One foot in front of the other, and found myself walking up the steps into the frat house, where the lights and music pulsed out into the night. I went straight to the drinks and grabbed a red cup, which I filled from the keg myself. I felt really vulnerable, being here by myself, and I remembered seeing a thing online that warned people to never take a drink from a stranger. Everyone here was a stranger, so I was going to hold on to this cup all night if I had to. I scoped out the scene. There were plenty of guys, and one of them was looking at me from across the room. I felt like I wanted to shrink into the wall. Apparently he got the hint, because he didn't approach me, and I made my way around the house. The dancing was going on out back on a huge back patio, where lights had been strung up all over the place. To be honest it was more than a little tacky, but then again, few people would accuse the average frat boy of being an expert decorator. The music system, on the other hand, was slammin'. I stayed on the outskirts, doing my best impression of a wallflower. Saying I was nervous was an understatement, but I needed to get the show on the road before I lost all my nerve. I moved out onto the dance floor, pushing aside my nerves. I tried to focus on the music, and had almost succeeded when I felt a hand on my hip. I started, turning around a little too quickly, bumping into a tall, broad chested young man. I took a step back. "Oh, I'm sorry." He smiled at me. It was a nice smile, I guess. It didn't creep me out too much, at least. "It's okay. You here alone?" "I have some friends around."

He grinned and moved a little closer. "That's not what I meant." "Oh. Then yes." "Good." He slipped his arms around my waist. "In that case would you like to dance?" "Sure." I forced myself to reach up around his shoulders. My smile stayed intact, not without effort. I had a lot of practice dancing with Ethan when I really didn't want to, and I put that to use now. I rested my head on his chest and tried to relax. He did smell good, at least. Maybe if I just gave it a chance, this time it would be different. The music stopped. "Hey, you want to go get a drink?" I nodded. "Sure." "So what are you studying" "Economics. How about you?" "Criminal justice." "So you're going to put bad guys away?" "That's the idea." He got me a beer, which I watched him pour and hand to me. We talked about my playing tennis, and he told me some crazy stories about frat life. He was funny, but obviously on the prowl, as he was getting a little closer every chance he got. Eventually he led me back out to the dance floor, and he held me close, cheek to cheek. After a minute he turned his face toward me, pushing my nose to the side and kissed me. Until that moment I had hope. He was nice, tall, well made. Maybe this one I'd like. Maybe this time all those things I'd read about and seen in the movies would happen, finally. Maybe it would feel as wonderful as it had when Mitch and I had, no, don't think about that. Nothing. God bless it, nothing. He deepened the kiss, apparently completely oblivious to the way I was feeling. I allowed it, because that was what I did. But I wanted it to stop. After a few moments it did. He looked down at me, completely misreading my expression. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

"I don't..." "It's fine, it's my house." He pulled me back deeper into the building and I followed. Looking back now I don't know why I did. The dancing, the kissing, it was all wrong. And this, going upstairs with him, it was beyond stupid. But I did it, my last, desperate attempt to deny what was happening in my life. Suddenly I was alone with him in a room, his room, I guess. He moved me back to the bed, pushing me back onto the mattress before covering me with his body and kissing me again. My brain was reeling. Why was I here? I wanted to be in my room. I wanted Mitch to be holding me. As his hand slipped under my shirt I finally found my voice. "Stop, stop, please." For a horrifying moment I didn't think he was going to. Panic was just starting to fill me, and I was getting ready to fight when he rolled off me. "What's wrong?" I scooted up the bed, tears streaming from my eyes. "I'm sorry, I can't do this. I'm sorry." "What? Fuck. Seriously? Goddamn, you fucking tease." That made me sob harder, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs. He rolled off the bed and left, slamming the door behind him as he went, leaving me crying in the dark What was I doing? Why the hell was I here? What was I trying to prove, and to whom? That I wasn't gay? Ethan and I had broken up in May, so I'd gone five months without a boyfriend, the longest span since I'd started dating at sixteen. Honestly, I hadn't missed it at all, and I knew the biggest reason for that was Mitch. I couldn't even begin to describe how much I wanted her to come rescue me, how badly I wanted to feel her arms around me. But she wasn't here. She was six hours away in a hotel, probably making some other girl really happy. I hated that girl, whoever she was. How dare she put her hands on my Michelle? But Mitch wasn't mine. Why did I think of her that way? She'd been my other half for months. The one I wanted to talk to when something good happened, the one I wanted to spend time with. I looked down at my phone, pulling up our text string, reading over the little jokes and everyday

notes we sent to one another. She was so easy to talk to, always funny, always available. To me anyway. I'd seen her ignore things from others when I was with her, but she never ignored my texts. Maybe Carrie was right, and that meant something. The door opened, and another couple stumbled in, kissing and fumbling with each other's clothes. I needed to get out of here. The young woman noticed me, "Oh, shit, sorry." She looked closer at me. "Are you okay? Aaron, stop." The guy pulled his face out of her neck. "What's wrong, babe?" The girl pointed at me and took a step forward. "Sweetie, are you okay? Did something happen?" I shook my head. "No, I'm sorry. I'll go. Sorry." I walked quickly past them, wiping my eyes before making my way back through the house and out into the night, alone with my thoughts. If what Carrie said were true, Mitch deserved more than I was giving her. She needed a real girlfriend, not some confused straight girl who'd tease and cuddle but never really be hers. She deserved someone who wanted to be with her in every way, and someday she'd want that, too. And then she'd end up resenting me for putting her through this. Somehow I managed to end up in front of my dorm, and I made my way up to my room. I stripped off my clothes and grabbed my robe, heading down for a hot shower. I needed to wash this whole experience away. As the water ran over my body the tears came back. They weren't in response to what had just happened, it would be quite awhile before I grasped how truly lucky I had been regarding that, rather it was the thought of losing Mitch, what it would feel like when she inevitably found someone who'd give her what she needed. An image of Mitch with another girl jumped into my brain. Mitch was laughing as they hugged, while the other girl's face was beaming with happiness. Then they kissed. I remembered what kissing Michelle had felt like, the warmth that had flowed through me. Oh my god, I might never feel like that again. The bathroom stayed blessedly empty while I washed my face, and afterwards I stumbled miserably back to the room. I never even considered climbing into my own bed, instead curling up under the blankets that Mitch and I usually shared. The shirt I'd slept with last night was still tangled up in the

sheets, and I pulled it to my face and breathed in Mitch's scent. I felt so alone, the wrongness of it bringing back the tears, and I cried myself to sleep. Looking back I feel so stupid, with the answer staring me in the face. But at the time I was heartbroken. I was also exhausted, but I couldn't sleep, so I dragged my sorry self out of bed and down to the cafeteria for some breakfast. I was so nervous about Mitch coming home. I wanted to see her so badly it was hard to think about anything else, but at the same time I was terrified about listening to any stories she was going to bring back from the wedding. I sat alone in the corner, picking at my eggs, when two girls came into the cafeteria. One had short red hair, the other's was longer and brown, and they were dressed nicely, like they might be headed out to church afterwards. The place was empty and I could easily hear their conversation. They set their trays down and the redhead put her hand on the small of the other's back, making my eyes go wide. "You want some OJ, babe?" "Sure, sweetie, thanks." The brunette smiled at her girlfriend, and I knew they were together. Red went up to the drink station and grabbed two glasses. When she made it back to her table, the grin on her girlfriend's face made it obvious how they felt about each other. Just before Red sat down she ran back up to the front and grabbed a handful of napkins, and when she came back I could see her face, how she was looking at her girlfriend. My mouth dropped open, and I snapped it shut. I recognized that look. I'd seen it dozens of times. It's how Mitch always looked at me. It was the way she always smiled at me. Maybe Carrie was right. I took a good look at the other girl. She was very feminine, not at all what I imagined a lesbian would look like. And I realized that I'd always made a distinction in my head between someone who might succumb to Mitch's charms for an evening, and a real lesbian. But there was the antithesis of my prejudices sitting right in front of me. Seeing her walk down the street I never would have known. She could have been sitting next to me in class or in one of my study groups, and I'd have had no idea. I watched them as they ate and talked, the easy way they were together. It made me miss Mitch even more. Could I have that with Mitch? The romantic thing to say would be that I had some thunderbolt moment, but the truth is I

struggled with it. The concept that I was straight was so central to my way of thinking about relationships that the possibility of anything different was going to take a lot to penetrate my thick skull, but that was the start. The couple I'd been watching ate quickly, and I watched their hands slip into one another's as they left. What would it be like to hold Mitch's hand as we walked, to lean against her knowing there were no boundaries between us? But could I do it? I'd always prided myself on being a no-nonsense, bottom-line kind of girl. I made decisions with my head, not my heart, and that included relationships. I'd always made decisions, what courses to take, what shots to hit, even who to date, based on what I thought was the smartest thing to do. I mean, if it was the smartest thing, it was the correct thing, right? And the bottom line was this: I couldn't be in a relationship with Mitch. I'd lose my family. They'd never accept me as a lesbian. I'd find it hard to get a job, we wouldn't be able to get married, have children. I wouldn't be able to have a family. I'd face ridicule and persecution every day. No, it just wasn't possible. It was the right decision, so why did it hurt so much? As the day wore on I got more and more upset. I stayed in my room the whole time, trying to study and both hoping for and dreading Mitch getting home. But when the door opened, and I looked at the smiling face of my best friend, all my resolve broke. "Hey, Cindy. What a drive." Her face was tired, without her customary grin. "Hi." I stood up as Mitch dropped her bag on our bed. I took a hesitant step forward. "You okay?" A tired smile. "Yeah. Long weekend. It's good to be home, though." "I'm glad you're back." My voice cracked as I said it. Mitch's face was concerned, and she put her hand on my shoulder. "You okay?" I went towards her, my face screwing up in emotion as she pulled me into her embrace. I rested my head on her shoulder as her strong arms went around me. It had been literally only two days, and I had missed this so badly I was almost crying. "I missed you." I don't think I let her go for the rest of the evening,

and we cuddled together until the sun was long down, only stopping long enough to find some dinner at some point. When Mitch finally pulled the covers around us for bed she whispered in my ear. "I missed this." I held her arm. "You didn't, I mean, with anyone?" She pulled me a little tighter. "No. No one else." I let go of the metaphorical breath I'd been holding since she'd left. She was still mine, and only mine. And that made me giddy inside, just for a moment, before I remembered how selfish that was. If I were her girlfriend I'd turn around and kiss her right now. I'd let her roll me onto my back as she nuzzled my neck, her hands running over my body as I breathed in her scent. And as I thought about it, and as my body relaxed toward sleep, I felt a tingle build deep inside me. My lips hummed at the memory of our one kiss; my skin was electric everywhere we were touching. *** I had a dream that night. I walked into a house from the garage. I didn't recognize it, but it was my house, I knew it was. Something smelled amazing, and I set down my briefcase on the counter. "Mommy!" A little voice sounded and little feet ran towards me, and I scooped up a little girl who kissed me on the cheek. "Mama's making pasghetti and me-balls!" "She is?" I spoke with mock astonishment and made my way into the kitchen where a tall, short-haired woman was standing at the stove. She turned towards me, and she smiled. "Hey, sweetheart. Dinner'll be ready soon." She stepped toward me and I kissed her, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Suddenly we were standing in our living room, and there was music, and we were dancing slowly together. Mitch whispered in my ear. "Think she's asleep?" I looked upstairs towards our daughter's room. "I hope so." "Then it's time for me to take you to bed."

"Yes, please." She leaned forward and my eyes closed as she kissed me, and I woke up. My heart was beating fast. I shifted slightly, and I could feel the wetness between my legs. Mitch's arms were still around me, where they always were, and it took me a second to remember that we weren't married. But that little girl had been our daughter, the two of us, together, somehow. And I wanted it. I wanted to come home to Mitch and our children, I wanted her arms to be waiting for me every night. Mostly, I wanted to know what it was like to be with someone I loved. And I did love Mitch. That wasn't even an issue. The question was could I be what she needed? Not just someone to love, but a lover. That thought plagued me over the next two days, and I thought about it a lot. And, of course, me being me, I did research, finding the quietest corner of the library and typing in a search I never, in my life, thought I would. I looked at the positions on the screen, closing my eyes at times and imagining the drawings were Mitch and I. I got those tingles again, and they were getting stronger. And when we went to sleep at night, and Mitch would touch me, I wanted more. What we were doing was starting to feel, well, incomplete, I guess. I wasn't sure what else I wanted, exactly, but the more I studied lesbian sex, the more I was starting to get an idea. To be honest, the thing that scared me most was whether or not I could do the things I kept seeing for Mitch. I mean, let's face it, you don't really have to do much to keep a boyfriend happy. Usually just lying there and letting them do their thing is good enough. But that definitely wasn't the case here. I was going to have to be a lot more, um, proactive about things if I was going to be the lover Mitch needed. The surprising thing was, to me at least, that I wasn't revolted by the idea of going down on her. I wasn't sure I could do it, but the more I read about it, the more I was willing to try. And, additionally, the more my knees went weak at the thought of Mitch doing it for me. Only one of my boyfriends had been willing to try, and that one experience had lasted less than thirty seconds. But even so, it might have been the best thirty seconds of my sexual life. Granted that wasn't saying much, but still. I'd

never asked again, because I knew he hadn't liked it, and good girls didn't request such things. But I'd heard Mitch talk about how she'd sent girls screaming into the heavens, and I knew she'd spend a hell of a lot longer than half a minute on me if I let her. And god, I was beginning to be sure I wanted to let her. Thursday night, after we got ready for bed, after Mitch pulled the covers around us, she whispered in my ear. "Cindy, you okay? You've been nervous." I cringed inside. "Really? I'm not nervous." Oh, hell, I was so nervous. Especially since every night I'd been relaxing a little more into Mitch's embrace, wanting to get closer and closer to her. "Uh-huh." She clearly didn't believe me. Damn, why did she have to be so good at reading people? "Is this okay? Do you, do we need to stop doing this?" There was real concern in her voice, and a bit of hurt, though she was trying hard to hide it. Okay, maybe she wasn't reading me as well as I thought. "No, I, uh, I love doing this. I mean," I snuggled closer to her. "You know what I mean." I hesitated for a second and took a deep breath. "Do you really want to go to that party tomorrow night at Epsilon Chi?" She'd mentioned it tonight at dinner, but I decided, right at this moment, that I couldn't have another week like this one, and it was time to fish or cut bait, as my grandfather would say. "Mm, take it or leave it. Why? Do you have a better idea?" Oh, so many ideas. "I kind of just wanted to hang out with you. Just the two of us." God, my heart was in my throat. "Okay, sure. Just me and you. Maybe some Buffy?" "That sounds good. Goodnight." The next day was absolutely interminable. I was going to try to seduce Mitch tonight. Holy crap, what the hell was I thinking? I was completely insane! I couldn't do this. But I knew I really didn't have to. If Carrie were right, and I thought she was, all I had to do was give Mitch permission, and she'd take it from there. At least for the first part, the her going down on me part. I assumed that's what would happen, anyway. And I'd made the decision I was going to

reciprocate, no matter what. I'd run across the term 'pillow princess' in my studies, and I was not going to be one of those. My classes dragged on, and I studied in my off hours. I wanted nothing schoolwork-wise hanging over my head this weekend, in case things went really well. I was changing at the sports complex for our usual, and generally abbreviated, Friday workout when Mitch walked into the locker room. She smiled at me, and I felt the butterflies erupt in my stomach. She was so handsome. And those eyes. God, I could lose myself in those eyes. Any question in my mind about whether I was doing this evaporated. I wanted this. So help me, I wanted her. I just wanted dinner to be over. I had almost no appetite, although I made myself eat something, just to keep Mitch from asking if there was anything wrong. I was scared to open my mouth and talk, lest everyone at the table figure out something was up. Mitch wasn't fooled though, and she asked about it as soon as we got back to the room. "You're quiet tonight. I'm gonna figure out what's going on in that ridiculously pretty head of yours. You know that, right?" She had mischief in her eyes, and I couldn't help but smile back. If only she knew. "If you're nice to me maybe I'll tell you." I put a tease in my voice that made Mitch cock her head in curiosity. "Fine, be mysterious." I threw in some popcorn as Mitch connected her computer to our little TV and started up Buffy. I emptied our buttery snack into a bowl and snuggled up to Mitch, holding it in my lap and leaning back against her. "Is this a good one?" "Absolutely. 'Hush' might be the best episode in the whole series. The only other stand-alone episode even in the conversation is the musical episode from season six." "There's a musical episode?" "Yup, it's amazing. But we'll get there."

She started the show and put her arms around me, and I made myself relax. It wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it was going to be. I was with Mitch, after all. My favorite place to be. We watched two episodes before I decided it was time. The sun had gone down, and we hadn't turned on a light other than the TV. Mitch pressed her cheek against the side of my head. "Another one?" "Um, not yet." My heart was thumping, and I extricated myself from Mitch's embrace, wondering if another, more intimate one was coming, or if that would be the last time she ever held me. Please, please, don't let it be the last time. "Mitch, I need to ask you a question." "Okay, shoot." "No, I'm serious, and you have to promise me that you'll tell me the truth." My voice was shaking. The playful smile evaporated from her face. "Cindy, what's this about?" "You have to promise. Even if it's hard, even if it's scary. The truth." "Okay, I promise." Her eyes were scared, so I reached out and took her hand. "Michelle, are you in love with me?" The terror on her face quadrupled instantly, and she looked like she wanted to run, but she didn't. "Cindy..." "Mitch, you promised." The fear drained away, replaced by abject misery. "I'm sorry. I know it's stupid, and you can't, um..." I moved closer to her. "It's not stupid, but you haven't answered me." I reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing away a tear with my thumb. God, she was crying. I'd never seen that before. "Are you in love with me?" "Cindy, you're my best friend." Tears were running freely down her face now. "You're the most beautiful, smartest, most incredible woman I've ever known, and when I hold you I feel like I can fly. Of course I love you. But I don't want to lose this."

I was crying, too, but I had to speak. "Mitch we can't keep going on like this, not like it is. I've been using you, like, in place of a relationship. And you, you need more than what I'm giving you." Her eyes went wide. "No I don't! I'm happy like this, with you. It's enough." "No, it's not, sweetheart." I touched her beautiful face, wiping away a tear. "You deserve so much more. Someone who wants to be with you. I mean, in every way. A girl who can't wait to kiss you, who wants to make love to you. You need that." "No, I don't! I just need you." Her voice was terrified and desperate, like her worst nightmare was coming true, and it broke my heart. "No, Mitch, you need more. And I want to give it to you." Dumbfounded disbelief spread over Mitch's face. "Wh-what?" "I want to be yours, in every way. And I want you to be mine. I want to try, y'know, to be an us." "Cindy?" She didn't believe me. I needed to try harder. I moved closer to her, wrapping my arms around her, whispering in her ear. "Do you have any idea how much I missed you last weekend? I pictured you with someone else, and it hurt so much. I don't want there ever to be a someone else. And you're not the only one who loves it when you hold me. I've been trying to tell myself for weeks that I needed to get some distance, to sleep on my own. And every night I end up back in your arms, because it's wonderful. You make me feel safe, and loved, and I can't live without it." She reached out almost reverently and touched my waist with both hands. Her body was shaking. "Cindy, I don't know what to do." "Kiss me. We'll figure it out from there." Her forehead rested against mine, and I could feel the heat of her like a furnace. My own body was raging with desire, like nothing I'd ever felt, and as our noses touched and our lips feathered against each other, I knew I'd never wanted anything more than I wanted this. And then she kissed me. I remembered the heat of our moment last spring, the way the energy had coursed through me. I'd told myself a myriad of times that it hadn't meant anything, because I'd been drunk. In a way I'd been

right. It was nothing like this. Every nerve ending in my body seemed to explode with electricity, my whole body humming and singing, doubly so for the parts of me Mitch was touching. I sighed lustily into Mitch's mouth, pushing myself against her as she wrapped me in her arms. Our mouths opened in unison, tongues touching gently, seemingly doubling the pleasure of the kiss. I don't know how long it went; minutes, days, but it was perfect. When we finally broke apart I was breathing heavily, my pulse pounding Mitch's eyes danced. God, they were so beautiful. "Good?" I sighed. "Oh, yeah. More, please?" Her mouth found mine again, but only lingered a moment before moving to my neck, my chin lifting as the most exquisite sensations filled me. Her hand cupped the back of my head, her fingers digging into my blonde hair, and I rested against her. Her hand moved down over my leg, tracing along my bare skin, and back up over my soft cotton shorts. A single finger slipped in between the waist of my shorts and my top. Mitch pulled away and looked me in the eyes as the rest of her hand slid underneath and rested against the bare skin of my back. She was silently asking permission, and, oh my god, the answer was yes. I reached down and grabbed my halter and pulled it over my head, tossing it onto the floor, watching Mitch's eyes go wide as she took in the cleavage created by my bra. I'd worn a nice one, just for this moment, and it totally paid off. She looked up into my eyes again, and this time her wicked smile was back. I stroked her hair. "All for you." She growled, burying her face into my chest, kissing along my collarbone over the skin of my chest, trailing fire behind. I moaned and threw my head back, wishing her lower. I didn't have to wish for long, as Mitch's hands traced up my spine, and moments later the tension in my bra released. I shrugged the material over my shoulders, letting it fall away to the floor. One last kiss, and Mitch pulled away. "You are so beautiful." Her fingers traced along the crease in my skin left by the underwire, back to front, until she was cupping my breast. I'd always considered them to be solidly average, big enough, but nothing to get excited about. Given the look on her face, though, I

don't think Mitch agreed. Her mouth hung slightly open as she gazed reverently at what had been revealed, and I could barely breathe with anticipation. Her thumb turned a slow circle around my nipple, and a shiver of pleasure radiated down my body. I felt it in my fingers and toes, but mostly between my legs, which I realized was humming with warmth. I shifted in Mitch's lap, and the feeling intensified. That was new, and I liked it. I didn't have long to ponder, though, before Mitch leaned forward and took my other nipple into her mouth, and I threw my head back. "Oh, my GOD!" I'd never felt anything like it. My whole body, already buzzing in anticipation, seemed to explode in joy. I held her head to me as her mouth worked and suckled. It was pure heaven. Her tongue flicked, her teeth nibbled, and I pressed myself against her as the exquisite sensations echoed through me. Just as I started to get used to it she switched sides, and I moaned with abandon as I ran my fingers through her short, dark hair. I rested my face against her head, kissing her gently on the crown, inhaling the scent of her. I shifted, wrapping my legs around her waist as her mouth trailed up my neck and our lips came together. This kiss was completely different. The first I'd wanted. This one I needed, and desperately. Eventually our mutual need to breathe forced us apart. I rested my forehead against hers, trying to control my breathing. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't. All I could do was feel the heat of Mitch's body, and I wanted to just drink it in. The intensity of her gaze was amazing. I'd never seen anyone who wanted me so badly, and I wanted to give myself to her. Mitch leaned forward, gently holding me as she lay me back onto the bed. My head settled into the pillow, and she overshadowed me. I ran my hands over her back as she kissed me, feeling the material of her T-shirt. I needed to feel her skin against mine, so I tugged at it, but with our bodies pressed together I didn't make any headway. Mitch sat up, swinging her leg over my waist. She towered above me as I reached up to touch her, and as I did she stripped off her top, and I ran my hands over her firm, flat stomach and up to her sports bra. She gave me one of her wicked little grins. "You want me to take this off?"

I stared at the garment in question, mouth open slightly, and nodded. I was desperate to see it off. Obviously I'd seen her in shower, I mean, she wasn't exactly shy, but this was so different. This was for me, just me, and I couldn't wait. Off it went, joining her shirt on the floor, Mitch's breasts bouncing free. They were smaller than mine, tipped with dark brown areolae no bigger than a nickel. But her nipples were good sized, and they looked delicious. I reached up so slowly to touch them. They were warm and soft, a strange dichotomy with the rest of Michelle's hard, lean body. And they were incredibly beautiful. I pinched one, making Mitch close her eyes and hum. "Mm, that's nice." "Yeah?" "Oh, yeah." I stared at them for a moment. "Can I...?" Mitch nodded and scooted down my body so I could sit, pulling myself up using her back. I kissed her once right in the center of her chest before moving my head to the right and taking her breast into my mouth. I can't really describe what it felt like. I'd given a lot of thought over the last few days about my ability to kiss other parts of Mitch's body that I hadn't really thought about this much, and that was a real shame. It was so intimate, her gently holding me to her as I suckled her breasts. They were so soft, though the tips were just firm enough, and I lost myself in them for a few moments. The feel of her warmth, smell of her skin, the soft sounds she was making, they all filled me up. I switched to the other breast, going back and forth as I wanted, until Mitch slid a finger under my chin and lifted my face to hers and I melted into her kiss. She broke away, cupping my cheek with her palm. "Lie back." Her eyes were intense and mesmerizing, and all I could do was nod and obey. She lay next to me, our eyes locked onto each other. She kissed me softly before moving her lips down to my neck, which I did my best to expose. Her hand caressed over my hip and down my leg, circling around my knee and tracing back up my inner thigh. A shudder coursed through me, the two points of ecstasy ricocheting against each other in my body. I opened my legs, desperately hoping she would

touch me there. The tips of her fingers slipped under the leg of the pair of loose shorts I was wearing, finding the crease my leg made with my body. My eyes shot open and I gasped. Mitch immediately pulled away. "Cindy?" "No, it's just... intense." I looked her in the eyes, those perfect, beautiful blue eyes. "But I don't want you to stop." My voice dropped to a desperate whisper. "Please don't stop." That little grin spread back over Mitch's face as she pulled her hand away for a second, just long enough to move it around to the front, and she began rubbing my pussy through the soft material. My eyes closed, and I moaned into the night as the most exquisite feeling I'd ever experienced rolled through me. I'd wondered many times if I'd chicken out when we actually started doing this, assuming I ever got the nerve to start. That had been a needless worry. I'd literally crawl across hot coals to keep feeling like this. The thrill of being touched, held close, laid down and loved on, it was all new. My hips undulated against Mitch's hand, and I felt myself being carried higher and higher. Just as I was about to ask for more, or harder, or something, Mitch pulled her hand up and rested it against the flat of my tummy, her fingers playing with the waistband of my shorts for a second before sliding underneath. Mitch's eyes searched mine for permission, and I nodded hastily, desperate to feel her touch me. I thought she would stay above my panties, but Mitch was too impatient for that. God bless her. Her fingers slid under my shorts and my cotton panties below them, two diving directly into my soaked sex. I cried out, my back arching as she began to caress my clit. I turned and buried my face in Mitch's shoulder, clinging to her as they glided up and down my most intimate places. The pace slowed. Mitch obviously wanted this to last, and her voice was soft in my ear. "You're so wet." I looked up at her. She was grinning ear to ear, and I returned her smile. We both knew what it meant. I wasn't broken. There'd never been anything wrong with me. I'd just been with the wrong person. And now I was with the right person, and my body was responding just like it was supposed to. I should have been with Mitch all along.

The realization of that made a tear leak free from my eye. "Oh, baby." Mitch pulled me close and kissed me as her fingers began to move faster over my sex, and I just dissolved into her, moaning and gasping into her mouth until the spring coiling in my body finally snapped, and I began to buck and pulse as my orgasm claimed me. It wasn't my first, of course. I'd managed to give myself a few before. But I'd been taught masturbation was wrong, and the guys I'd made myself think about the infrequent times I done it hadn't helped matters. I'd never come even close with anyone else. But this, this had been beyond amazing. I had no concept it could feel so good. And as Mitch kissed me I knew I wanted more, and I wanted them with her. She gently nuzzled my hair. "Did you like it?" I nodded, not trusting myself to speak quite yet. "I loved doing it for you." "I...I didn't know it could be like that." "That was just the beginning." The husk in Michelle's words made me shiver, and my response came out as a girlish whisper. "Really?" "Oh yeah." She ran her hand through my hair, her eyes inches away from mine. God, I couldn't breathe. "I wanna taste you." She lowered her mouth to mine and we kissed. God, I loved the kissing, and the touching, she was so gentle. I just nodded, the thought that this was going to get better making me tremble inside. I lay back, and Mitch's mouth moved over my chin and down my neck. She spent some time worshipping my breasts, which felt as amazing as before, but there was something in the way she shifted her body that told me she wasn't going to stop there. Her mouth moved lower, over my tummy. I was breathing heavily and my heart was racing just in anticipation. When her mouth moved below my belly button her hand gripped the sides of my shorts. I guess this was it, the point of no return. Oh, goodness, who am I kidding. That'd already come, or maybe it was still coming. In either case, I

just lifted my hips, and Mitch peeled off both my shorts and panties in one fluid movement. I gasped as the cool air came in contact with the heat of my pussy, then moaned as Mitch ran a finger through my dripping folds. "God, Cindy, you're so beautiful." "Mitch, please." I thought she was going to tease me more, and I wasn't sure if I could take it, but instead she just wrapped her arms round my thighs and lowered her mouth to my sex. Nothing in my life had prepared me for the intensity of this single sensation, and I almost screamed into the evening as I pushed against her mouth. Her tongue slipped inside me and swirled around for a second before moving slowly up through my cleft. It surrounded my clit just before her lips pulled it into her mouth, sucking steadily for a few moments before letting it pop free. She alternated between the flat of her tongue and her soft lips, caressing up and down, sucking on my labia, flicking my nub, generally driving me insane. Nothing had ever felt so good, so intimate, and I surrendered myself to my lover on a deep, primal level. She was everywhere, but each time she came back to my little pearl she spent more time there, and after a bit it was the center of her attention, for which I was eternally grateful. I was soaring into the heavens. I grabbed my breast, squeezing and pinching, while my other hand reached down for Mitch. Her hand somehow found mine and our fingers intertwined. She sucked my clit into her mouth, and my body detonated in orgasm. I cried out in one long tone, the volume rising and falling with each blissful pulse of joy. I collapsed back into our mattress, breathing heavily as my now super sensitive clit popped free from Mitch's mouth. She ran her fingers over my sex, me jerking with each aftershock. "Oh, wow, Mitch, that, I, oh, ooh!" My lover's fingers circled my vagina for a moment before dipping inside, and an entirely new source of ecstasy began to flow through me. First one, then a second, curling up and caressing my front wall as her other hand feathered over my clit, rolling it between my swollen outer labia.

I could feel my muscles clenching down around her digits, my eyes fluttering closed as my body tensed to orgasm again. "Oh, Mitch, so good, so... ooh, don't stop, please, Please!" And I came again, writhing around on the bed as the rolling waves of pleasure claimed me. Her fingers never stopped as I tried to rip them off with the intensity of my contractions, but when I calmed she did replace the ones playing with my nub with her lips and tongue, which, let's face it, is just better. The combination of sensations was immediately overwhelming, particularly given the already over-stimulated state of my body, and I shot back into orgasmic insensibility only a few moments later. When I floated back down Mitch's fingers slipped out of me, and her kisses were gentle and soft, all around, but not in, my sex. She kissed my outer lips, nuzzled in the soft blonde hair on my mons, tickling up my inner thigh. It was exquisite, and she slowly worked her way back to my cleft, but even once she did she was almost feather soft in her kisses and licks. The others had come so quickly, but obviously she wanted this one to last. I was so okay with that plan, and I just let myself sink into both the mattress and the feelings coursing through my body. I just floated along as she pleasured me, saying her name, cooing and moaning, it was luxurious and wonderful and beyond sensual, and when Mitch finally tipped me over the edge and my orgasm filled me, I let it just carry me away into heaven. When I finally came back to myself, Mitch was kissing her way back up my body. I needed her to be kissing me, so I reached down and pulled her up so she could. I hadn't given a thought to the fact I'd be able to taste myself on her lips, but by the time I realized what that odd tang was I was feeling so good I didn't care. It didn't really taste bad though, certainly nothing that was going to get me to stop. Our tongues danced and swirled, and I reveled in the weight of her on top of me as my hands traced over the bare skin of her back. Eventually our kiss ended, and she rested her forehead against mine. "Good?" "Oh, Sweetheart, so good." I gave her another little peck. "I've wanted to do that for you for so long."

I grinned at her. "I'm sorry I made you wait. Like really sorry." Mitch's eyes glinted with mischief and we spent a few more lovely moments just kissing before I asked the only salient question. It was the one I'd been wondering about since I'd decided to try to do this. "Is it my turn now?" "Cindy, you don't have to." And finally reality dawned on me. Regardless of anything else, there was one simple truth. "I know, but I want to." Mitch looked worried. "Are you sure?" "Yes." I looked into her lovely eyes, the ones shining with concern and love. I wanted to make her feel as good as she'd just done for me. Not out of obligation, not to prove anything, to myself or her, but just because I loved her. I let some serious minx drip into my voice. "I'm very sure." She returned my grin. "Okay then." Somehow we managed to get flipped over on that little Twin XL we shared every night, and I was on top of her, doing what she'd done to me, slowly kissing my way down over her body. Her skin tasted wonderful, and eventually I managed to pull myself away from her breasts and work my way down over her firm stomach. "Why are you still wearing these jeans, missy?" I scolded her, but she just smirked at me. "Cause you haven't taken them off yet." "Okay then." I undid the button and unzipped the fly, drawing them down over Mitch's toned legs. I took a moment to divest her of her socks as well, leaving her only in a pair of boxers. I took a moment to admire her shapely legs, running my hand up and down her smooth skin. I pressed my lips to her inner thigh as I settled my body into position. There wasn't much room, but I was determined to make it work, to get it right. I slipped a hand up the leg of her blue and red plaid underwear, feeling the heat of her sex on my skin. I ran my hands over her for a moment before taking a deep breath and stripping the boxers off. I stared into Mitch's bare sex. She had puffy outer lips, with darker, pear shaped inner labia, all glistening with her essence. The reality of the situation came rushing back, and suddenly I was terrified. Not of doing it, but of doing it poorly, not making her happy.

"Cindy? You okay?" "Yeah, I just, um, I'm not sure what to do." I was scared she'd be annoyed, but she just grinned at me. "Sweetie, you're gonna do great." She ran a hand over my cheek, and I leaned against it. "Just take your time and enjoy me." I was still worried, so Mitch sat up enough to kiss me for a moment before lying back. I turned my attention back to the job at hand. I reached out a single finger, touching the inside of her inner lips and sliding down to her opening. It was so silky and warm, and I ran my fingertip around the edge. I breathed her in, savoring her incredible aroma, rich and earthy with just a touch of sassy sweetness. I'd heard the term 'fishy,' but I didn't get that at all. I pulled a sticky finger away and pressed it to my tongue. If anything, she tasted even better than she smelled, so I took a deep breath and leaned forward, pressing my tongue as deep into her as I could. Mitch moaned loudly, and I matched her outburst with one of my own. My brief taste hadn't prepared me for the intensity of her flavor, and I was overwhelmed for a moment. She was delicious. I wrapped my arms around her thighs, burying myself in her, pushing my tongue as deep as it would go. "Ohh, that's nice." Mitch's words gave me confidence, and I swirled my tongue around her entrance, pushing in and out. Mitch started to move her hips in rhythm with what I was doing. She kept sighing and moaning, and I licked up higher, suckling on her inner lips. "Yeah, sweetie, just a little higher. God, that's good." I let my tongue trace up her slit until I reached her hard little pearl, just barely peeking out. I flicked it, and Mitch's whole body jerked. Wow, that was awesome. I flicked it again, and then pressed the flat of my tongue against it and turned my face in small circles. Mitch matched my movements, grinding her core against my face. "Suck on it, baby, just a little, please. Feels sooo good." Sucking! Why the hell hadn't I done that yet? That had felt so amazing. I immediately wrapped my lips around Mitch's clit and pulled it into my mouth. Mitch's body seemed to levitate off the mattress.

"Oh, fu-u-uh, Cindy." I smiled, knowing she'd stopped herself swearing for me, just because I didn't like it. I really should reward her for that, so I doubled down in intensity, and Mitch's moans increased in volume. To be honest I'm not sure how long I went. It really was mesmerizing, the heat of her, the way her body moved, her incredible, musky, sweet flavor. "Sh-geeze Cindy, I'm almost there, I'm, ah, so close, so, unnnh!" She began to seize and jerk underneath me, and I held on tight as a fresh flood of wetness surged out against my face. I just kept going until Mitch scooted up the bed and pushed my head away. "Stop, stop, oh, god, too sensitive." She sucked in a few deep breaths, and I didn't try to touch her with my mouth. She was right there though, so I reached out and caressed a finger over her still quivering labia, making her jump. "God, Cindy." "It's just so cute. I wanna touch it." "Just give me a second. Wow." I leaned in and kissed her outer lips and up her smooth thighs while I gently rubbed her pussy with my flat hand. Once Mitch had relaxed I moved back in, but this time, almost without thinking, I slid a single finger inside of her. I had no idea how intimate that would feel, truly being inside another person, feeling her warm, wet strength pulling on me. Mitch was breathless. "Cindy, curl the finger up. Yeah, right there, right, oh, god." I could feel the difference in the spot she'd indicated, and I caressed it as I took her clit back into my mouth. She was so tight. Mitch had had two fingers inside of me, but I doubted I could do the same. I guess that made sense, though. I can't imagine Mitch had ever been with a guy. I pushed that intrusive thought away and sank into what I was doing. Mitch was fully absorbed again, rolling her hips in time with my ministrations, deep throated moans issuing from her throat. This time I caught that she was about to come before she told me, and I was ready to ride the waves when it happened. A gasping Mitch pulled me up to her, kissing me desperately as my body rested on hers. Somehow in our embrace she managed to turn so she was on

top again, and I surrendered to the power of her presence. I just wanted to be hers, and I wanted her to be mine, and we were each other's right there. I drew my left leg up over hers, sliding the sensitive skin of my inner thigh along her. Her leg dropped between mine, and my sex pressed against the top of her thigh, making me gasp. Mitch shifted, parting her legs slightly, and I could feel her wetness against my skin as well. She broke our kiss, her gaze locking me to her, and pressed together, we started to move. It was so gentle, rocking back and forth, each movement sending an exquisite flush of pleasure through my body. It was far less intense than the oral had been, but it built with every second. Also, it let me do what I'd wanted to do since Mitch had walked into that training room when we were freshmen. I got to just stare into her beautiful eyes. I got to search them, to revel in them. I got to wonder at the expression she was wearing. There was lust there, of course, but it came from a place of love. This woman loved me, and she wanted nothing more than to be mine, to be close to me in every way. To have someone look at you that way, to realize that someone so incredible is offering their heart to you so completely, it does something to you. It might be different for everyone, but it does something to you. For me, it crystallized what had been coming on since the moment I'd met Mitch. I knew, in that moment, as the pleasure built in me, that I was in love with Michelle Kirkpatrick. That I belonged to her, mind, body, and soul. And as that reality settled over me, my body came apart and the bliss of orgasm carried me away as I clutched to her. When I floated back to earth she was still moving against me. "Are you close, sweetheart?" I whispered in her ear. She nodded, and I shifted slightly to give her more stimulation. Moments later, she buried her head in my shoulder and shuddered and shook in my arms as I kissed her neck. When she quieted she rolled to her side, and I went with her, our legs still intertwined, arms wrapped around each. I could see the emotion in her face as we gazed at each other. I stroked her short hair and spoke in a whisper, my feelings making my voice shake. "I love you."

With that Mitch's expression twisted, and a sob broke free from her chest. Oh, crap. What did I do? "Mitch, what's wrong?" "I don't want to wake up." I ran a finger through her hair. "What?" "This is when I wake up. We make love, and you say that to me. And then I wake up. And it hurts." "I'm so sorry." Now I was crying. "I'm so sorry it took me so long." I kissed her. "But I'm yours now. And you don't have to wake up." She clung to me and wept, and I held my beloved to me until she quieted. "I'm sorry I hurt you." "Cindy, I'd have waited for you forever. You probably don't believe that, given my track record, but I would have. Even if you never, y'know, part of me would still have been waiting for you." "You would have found someone who made you happy." "Cindy when I walked into that training room, and I saw you talking to Carrie, you were glowing. I remember all the times my dad had told me about the first time he saw my mom. I thought he was crazy. But then there you were. I was dumbstruck" "You were not! You were very boisterous, from what I remember." "I get loud when I get nervous." I laughed. "And then I didn't want to have anything to do with you." Mitch laughed through her tears. "No, no you didn't." "I'm sorry." "Baby, you don't have to apologize. Not ever. Oh, and I love you, too." My cheeks were literally aching from smiling. "That's good." Our lips found each other, and we kissed and nuzzled together, before I finally turned in her arms while she pulled the covers around us. Finally there were no more boundaries between us, and we fell asleep in each other's love. *** Part Three

The sun was streaming in through the window when I woke up. I could hear birds singing outside. Mitch's arm was draped over me, her hand resting on my bare breast. I could feel her breath in my hair, her modest bust pressed against my back, our legs entwined together under the covers There was pure serenity there, and I let it wash over me for a few minutes. I was exactly where I was supposed to be, and everything was right with the world. Except, of course, that it wasn't. My parents were never going to accept this, accept her as my partner. I pushed the thought away. They didn't need to know. I mean, it was just our first night together. No one was picking out rings, right? Mitch stirred behind me, and the delicious feel of her skin against mine sent a warm shudder through my body. Her lips pressed against the back of my head and her voice was soft in my ear. "So, regrets?" The sound of her beautiful alto voice banished my melancholy, and I wrapped my arms around hers. "Let's see. Do I regret having the most incredible night of my life with my best friend, who I've finally admitted to myself I want to be with?" I turned in her embrace, running my fingers over her back and staring into those stunning blue eyes. "No, I don't regret that at all." And I didn't. Nothing would ever make me want last night back. Mitch pressed her forehead to mine. "So I did okay, then?" I giggled. "I thought that was my line. I'm the one who didn't know what she was doing." "Right." She kissed my cheek. God, I liked that. "So all the pressure was on me. It had to be good." "Sweetheart, good doesn't begin to describe it." I let my voice get quiet and serious. "I didn't know it could be like that." "Me neither." I nuzzled against her. "You're lying. Just another day at the office for you." "Hey." She fixed me with her gaze. "No it wasn't." "But..."

"I've been with other girls, sure, but last night was the first time I'd ever been with someone I loved. I am crazy, out of my mind in love with you, Cindy Spencer. And being with you, last night, and like this, it means everything to me." My heart was full to bursting, and I couldn't do anything but kiss her, long and deep, morning breath be damned. Geez, why do I think about stuff like that at times like these? I let her roll me onto my back as I relaxed into the kiss, feeling my skin heat up as she covered me with her body. Unfortunately, it didn't go further as she broke away. I ran my fingers through her short hair. "So what happens now?" "Well, if we're going to go meet Carrie to work out, we need to go get a shower. Unless you want to show up smelling like sex. Or we could blow her off and stay in bed all day." She ran a hand under my arm and down my side, resting on my bare hip. "I'd be okay with that." I grinned at her. "That's not exactly what I meant. But a shower is a good place to start." We had a lot of fun in the shower. It was still reasonably early on a Saturday, so we were able to get in the big stall on the end, and we spent almost half an hour engrossed in warm, wet kisses while our fingers were deep into warm, wet other places. A thorough washing and two incredibly satisfying orgasms later I got out, cleaner, but considerably shakier in the knees. I hadn't dropped the ball myself, and I knew I'd gotten Mitch off at least once. I was quickly finding out how much I loved having my fingers inside of my mew girlfriend. It was incredibly intimate and erotic. We were running a little late, so we dressed and headed out toward the sports complex. Walking down the sidewalk next to Mitch was bizarre. We'd done it dozens of times before, but, of course, everything was different now. I was so nervous. We kept exchanging shy glances, and eventually her hand brushed against mine. I wanted to take it, I really did, but I just didn't have the gumption, I guess. I moved slightly farther away, reaching my hand nearest her up to the shoulder strap of my gym bag. I was too ashamed to even look up at her, but even on a Saturday morning there were a lot of people around, and I was scared.

We were about ten minutes late to the gym, and Carrie was already in the weight room when we entered. She waved to us, and I forced a smile and waved back, heading over to the mat to stretch. When I was done I set up my weights on the bench press and lay down. Mitch was right there to spot, and I was taken back to that first moment we'd talked. "One, you okay, Cindy? You said no regrets, but you seem embarrassed. Two." "Ungh, I'm fine, I'm just, um, not ready to advertise yet." "Three. Okay, I'll take your lead. Four. But I'll warn you I'm not good at hiding things, especially the way I feel. Five." At least she was keeping her voice down, and Carrie was over on the leg machines, so I doubted she'd heard anything. Mitch coached me through the rest of my set, and I did the same for her. She insisted on putting thirty more pounds on the bar when she did, of course. Showoff. By the time we were finished a few other ladies from the team had joined us, and we didn't talk anymore about us. Mitch purposefully sat a seat away from me at lunch, which renewed my feeling of shame. Mitch hiding things wasn't right. I couldn't even look at her. I mean, I couldn't tell people about me and her. Not yet. And I thought everyone was going to be able to see right through us if I let her close at all. I went to the library to study that afternoon. The football team had a home game, so the place would be almost empty. I sat up on the third floor near a window that was cracked open, so I could easily hear the commotion going on over at the stadium. I knew that Mitch was there. She'd gone down early one morning to stand in line for tickets. Well, at least I knew she wasn't thinking about me and our increasingly awkward workout and lunch from earlier. Mitch was nothing if not single minded when the Dawgs were playing. I, on the other hand, was having a devil of a time focusing on my work. It'd been less than twenty-four hours since I'd initiated this relationship, and I was already screwing it up. Being with Mitch last night had been beyond amazing. It had felt so right, so natural. So why was I so confused? The game had just ended when I decided to head back to the room. I stupidly assumed that Mitch would be there, but she wasn't. I looked at my

phone, and there was a text from Mitch saying she was headed out for drinks. I had been able to tell from the general exuberance of the crowds on my walk back to the dorm that we'd won, so I wondered how much of a good time Mitch was going to have. At ten I decided to run down to the bathrooms and get ready for bed, a concept which had clearly not occurred to anyone else in the dorm, but I wasn't in any kind of mood to hang out with anyone. I was so distracted in the shower that I couldn't remember if I'd washed my body after I finished with my hair. I did it again, just to be sure. There was almost no noise around the dorm; everyone was already out engaging in their typical Saturday night frivolities. Why was I such a square? I almost never did that stuff. I wonder if Mitch would ever get bored of me. When I got back to the room it was still empty, but I had just enough time to pull on my sleep shorts and a top before the door opened and Mitch came in. I glanced at the clock. It wasn't even eleven yet. "Hey." My voice sounded small and hurt. "I didn't expect you home so soon." She stepped close to me. "Just realized I didn't want to be there." There was a tear in my eye. "How come?" "Because I wanted to be here." I was weepy. I don't know why, I shouldn't have been, I had no reason to be, but I was. Mitch just pulled me into a hug, and I rested against her as she stroked my hair. "I shouldn't have left you today. I should've given those tickets away. I'm so sorry." "No, it's okay. I don't want to be like that, someone who'd make you do that. I'm sorry. I'm not very good at this yet. I just..." My emotions welled up and I pulled her tighter. "It's fine, Cindy. We'll talk about it in the morning, okay?" I looked up at her and her lovely smile and nodded, lifting my chin for a kiss. She didn't hesitate, and the world just fell away. When we finally broke apart I was grinning ear to ear. "You taste like beer and cherries."

Mitch looked thoughtful for a second before nodding. "I had two beers, and a Jell-O shot. I think it was red. Before the party I would have tasted like nachos." That made me laugh, and I kissed her again. "It's weird. You should go brush your teeth." "If I do, do I get more kisses?" I pressed my lips right under her ear. "Probably." Her body shuddered before she grabbed her toiletries and headed out the door and down the hall. I needed her to know that last night hadn't been a one-off. I mean, I thought she knew, but I wanted to do something for her. I quickly grabbed a scented candle, which we weren't supposed to have in the dorm, of course, but oh well, and lit it. I turned out the light, cracked the window, and stripped. When Mitch slipped back in I was standing in the middle of the room, completely naked. My arms were clasped behind my back and I was wearing my most innocent expression, slowly rotating my shoulders back and forth. Mitch's eyes went wide, and she quickly set down her bag and locked the door. "Oh, Cindy." I looked up at her through my lashes, speaking in the most innocent voice I could muster. "Is it time for bed?" Just standing there like that had gotten me heated up, but when Mitch crossed the short distance and took me in her arms, everything jumped to the next level. She kissed me long and deep, my body melting into her. My hands pulled at her clothing, desperate to feel her skin against mine, and she created just enough distance so that could happen. As she stepped out of her jeans and boxers I pulled her towards our bed, and she lay me down, covering me with her warm body and warmer kisses. My eyes closed as she feasted on my neck, hovering over my pulse point, which felt beyond exquisite. But as much as I wanted to just give myself over to her, I'd been the problem today, and I wanted to do something to make it right. I encouraged her back higher, and when she complied, I slid lower, kissing over her neck before taking one of her breasts into my mouth. I was rewarded with a steady stream of sighs and moans and encouraging words, each of which filled me with confidence to continue. I'd seen a lot of different positions in my research, and there was one I wanted to try that I thought would work well on

our tiny little twin XL. Looking back I wonder how we ever got anything done on that thing. Anyway, I reluctantly let her nipple go and kissed my way down her belly, hooking her thighs with my arms and pulling her toward the top of the bed. Mitch got the idea immediately, grinning ear to ear as she straddled my face. "Yeah?" I nodded, my mouth watering as I took in her aroma. God, she smelled good, and I couldn't believe how badly I wanted to taste her again. Mitch lowered her sex to me as I pulled her thighs down, and I pushed my tongue deep into her folds. My eyes closed and I moaned into her skin as her flavor washed over me. This cinched it, I guess. It's funny, really. I'd spent a solid portion of last week wondering if I'd be able to do this for Michelle. I imagined hating it, or it grossing me out to the point I'd get sick. I'd had more than a few panic moments picturing myself gagging while trying to, um, well, you know. Talk about a lot of wasted worrying. This was awesome. She smelled and tasted amazing, and the sensual feel of my mouth on her silky labia was just heavenly. And I just loved this feeling, her weight on me as she ground against my tongue. Looking up at her strong body towering above me, I just wanted her so badly. I pulled her clit into my mouth. "Oh, god, Cindy, that's sooo good. Keep going, just a little more, oh shit." She started to tremble and buck, so I tightened my grip on her legs as her orgasm shook her, holding her against me. "Oh, okay, stop, stop. Oh, wow." She pulled her pussy away, rising up on her knees. "Was that good?" Mitch reached down and touched my face. "Oh, baby, that was so good." I made my voice as innocent as I could. "There's more where that came from, if you want."

Mitch grinned that wicked little grin of hers, and I went all gooey inside, as if I wasn't already. "Oh, Cindy, I do want." She swung her leg over so she was no longer straddling me, and I made an unhappy little sound. Mitch chuckled. "Don't worry I'll give it back." "Yay!" I sounded like a little girl finding out she was getting an ice cream cone. "Yummy!" That made her laugh out loud, and she positioned herself astride me again, only this time facing the other direction. I was just happy to have access to her deliciousness again as she bent down over me. In fact, I was so wrapped up in what I was doing it came as a complete shock when her tongue ran over my sex. I let go this little half moan, half coo thing, my head falling back into my pillow. Mitch looked back at me. "Hey, don't stop." I grinned at her, and we both went back to what we were doing. We stayed like that for over half an hour. I don't know how many times I came, or that I made Mitch come. We were just lost in our little world of pleasure. When we were finished, she pulled me close under the covers, like she always did. The awkwardness of the day came rushing back. "Mitch, I, um..." "Hey," she stroked my hair and kissed the back of my head, "we'll talk about it in the morning. Now I just want to hold you." "Okay." I pushed my worries away, not without effort, and just rested in her arms for the night. *** When I woke up, Mitch was running her hands up and down my skin. "Morning, sunshine." "Mmm, morning." I leaned back for a kiss, which she gave me. I snuggled back against her. Mitch pressed her lips to my shoulder. "So, I think we should talk now." I groaned. "Do we have to?" "Yeah, Cindy we do. What're we doing here?"

"Snuggling." "Cindy," she scolded. "All right, I'm sorry. How mad at me are you?" She laughed. "You think I have mind blowing sex like that with people I'm mad at?" I turned around so I could see her. "Mind blowing?" She smiled at me. God, she was beautiful. "Yeah, you're amazing. Didn't you know that?" "When I was studying for it my goal was 'not terrible,' with aspirations of 'adequate'." Mitch's eyes were dancing with mirth. "You studied? For sex? That is so you." I put on a pouty face. "I wanted to know what to do. It's not that weird." "No, I guess not." She gave me a quick kiss. "But you're more than adequate, you know." "I really like it, I mean, not just the getting part, but the giving, too. I love it. You taste really good." My cheeks were burning and I looked down, too embarrassed to meet her eyes, but she gently lifted my chin until I did. "You do, too. And you're awesome. I mean, it'd be amazing just because it's you, but really, girl, you got skills." I giggled. "You're terrible!" "I know. But you love it. And I love you." I swallowed and stared into those stunning blue eyes of hers. "I love you, too." "But not out there?" She glanced toward the door. It wasn't an accusation, just a question. I felt my cheeks burn with shame. "I'm sorry." "I'm just trying to understand, Cindy." "I love you. I do, I just," I looked out the window, "I'm scared. This, um..."

"Cindy, I'm pretty sure I know the answer to this, but, what would your family think? About us, together, I mean." A tear rolled down my cheek and I shook my head. "Not good, huh?" "Um, they're not like, 'stone 'em in the streets' hateful, but yeah. I've been taught homosexuality is an abomination since before I knew what either of those words meant." Mitch interlaced her fingers with mine. "That's what you thought when you met me?" "No. Maybe. I thought I was more open minded." Mitch gave me a stern look. "Okay, no I didn't." I smiled shyly and snuggled in closer. My lover pulled me tight. "How 'bout now?" I looked deep in her eyes. "Being here, with you, it's the most natural thing in the world. Making love to you, it feels so perfect." I knew I was blushing, hard, but I kept my voice steady. "This can't be wrong." "Love is never wrong, Cindy. But you still have a choice about how you deal with it. And I know I've said it before, but I'm not good at hiding." "I know. I'm sorry." My voice wavered with emotion when I spoke, and Mitch just pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. She didn't push me any more, holding me just as tight as always, but I was still afraid my fear was going to cost me this relationship before it even started. *** We spent all of Sunday morning in bed, and my worry that I'd screwed everything up slowly dissipated with each kiss and cuddle. A part of me kept expecting her to shame me for being scared, but it never happened. In fact, I don't think she wanted to let me out of her sight. Eventually I had to shoo her out of the room so I could get some work done, sending her down to the common room to watch the pro football games like I knew she wanted to do. When we were alone it was great. Sunday night, when she came back upstairs, we slipped into each other's arms, and then into bed like we'd been doing it for years. I realized all the tension and worry I'd been feeling around

Mitch had been the simple wrongness of not being with her, of there being any boundaries between us. But when we went outside, or at least when I went outside, all that fear came back. We'd work out after classes each evening, and Mitch would stay away from me. She rarely talked to me or teased me like she used to, and it made me hurt inside. I knew it was what I'd asked for, but I didn't like it. And I could tell it was wearing on her, too. Closing the door to our room each night felt like stripping off an uncomfortable bra, the irritation from the front we were putting on gone, and we could just be together. *** It was the next Monday, after a whole week of this new, amazing relationship, and I was waiting for Carrie at the table we generally met at for lunch. I'd seen her get in line about a dozen people behind me so I knew she'd only be a minute. I took a sip of my cranberry juice as she entered and came over to the table. "Hey, Cindy. God, I thought that class would never end." "Sorry. I just sat through an hour of international banking law, but somehow I didn't mind." Carrie laughed. "You're weird. So what's new with you?" "I'm having sex with Mitch." It just kind of blurted out. I'd actually spent a decent amount of the aforementioned lecture debating whether or not to tell Carrie what was happening. I knew I had to start to come out, and I desperately needed someone other than Mitch to talk to. I'd intended to kind of ease into it, but that's not what happened. Carrie's reaction I could not have predicted. She clapped her hands together and pointed at me. "I knew it! I knew something was going on!" "You knew?" "Well, maybe not 'knew', but something was off with you two. I mean, she was ignoring you way too much." I stared at her. "How does that lead to 'they're sleeping together'?"

"It's you and her. Mitch never ignores you. You are always the most important person in the room to her. You have been since the day we all met. And I haven't seen her talk to you in like a week." I didn't know what to say, so I spluttered out something stupid. "We still talk." That made her laugh. "I'll bet you do. So how is it?" "It's good," I blushed and looked down, "as in amazing. Like, 'I had no idea it could be this good' good." "Wow. So, I mean, she's really good? What's she like, is she crazy and aggressive?" "Sometimes. But mostly she's really gentle and giving. It's nothing like being with a guy. So much better." Carrie peppered me with a few more questions, and weirdly it made me more comfortable, instead of less, as she did. And the more I answered, the more I realized how amazing being with Michelle really was. And I was just asking myself the question when Carrie verbalized it. "So why are you guys hiding?" "Cause I'm scared. I mean, even in the best of circumstances my family is really reserved, especially about romantic stuff. I mean, you'd never catch my parents being affectionate in public. I don't even think I ever saw them hold hands." "Really? Geez. My parents, they don't, like, make out in public, but they hold hands. And they're always hugging and touching at home." "Not mine. I mean, the only evidence that they were ever affectionate is the fact they have three children." "And is that what you want? That isn't going to go over well with Mitch." "She understands. I mean, she hasn't complained." Carrie shook her head and sat back with a pitying look on her face. "Cindy, Mitch is a full on 'physical touch' person. It's her primary." "Her primary?"

"Yeah, her love language. From 'The Five Love Languages'. We read the teen version in my youth group." I stared at her, befuddled. What the hell was a love language? It sounded like mushy things you wrote in Valentine's Day cards. "You seriously don't know? Go look it up." So I did, spending the hour and half after lunch and before my next class studying and reading everything online I could find about the five 'love languages,' instead of doing my Diffy-Q problems like I should have been, (that's 'Differential Equations' to the mathematically challenged). I know, I'm studying for my relationship again. Not the sexiest thing in the world, but it was so eye opening. After reading the basic overviews I took the quiz, coming in strongly as a 'quality time' person. That made sense, looking at it. My feelings really blossomed for Mitch when we started hanging out, me tutoring her or binging 'Buffy' in her room, or us spending time together on the road. And Carrie had been totally right. Mitch was a 'Physical Touch' person. She was quick with a hug or a back rub. She was always touching the people she cared about, and not in a creepy way. It was just her. But reading more, I realized something that left me fighting tears. Those times when I wouldn't hold her hand in public, when I created artificial distance between us, I wasn't just being careful. I'd been telling her I didn't love her. She may have understood in her head, and it may not have been what I meant, but it's what her heart had been hearing. I went back to all those arguments I'd had with myself before I'd put what I laughingly thought of as 'the moves' on her last Friday. Could I be what she needs? She needed someone she could touch. My heart was beating fast as I headed to the athletic complex for our daily workout. I heard Mitch in a loud, jovial conversation with someone as I entered the locker room. When she saw me I smiled at her, a warm, lover's smile, and her face lit up. As soon as we were in the weight room I asked Mitch if she'd spot me on some squats. She nodded, the surprise evident in her face, and then I returned the favor when I was done. I forced myself to touch her, nothing too overt, but just little reminders that I was there. The effects were almost instantaneous;

Mitch's eyes were just dancing after ten minutes, and she was her usual jovial self. I waited for her afterwards as she finished her spirited debate with one of our teammates regarding the Bulldogs chances this year in football. When she finally headed toward the door I joined her, walking by her side down the pavement. I intentionally made sure my bag was over my outside hip, so my arm nearest Mitch would be free. It only took a few steps before her hand brushed against mine. I took what I hoped was an unnoticed moment to steel myself before I hooked it with my little finger. Mitch looked down at what was happening as our palms pressed together, before turning towards me with that heart-melting smile of hers. I just grinned innocently at her, like it was no big deal. "So how was your day?" She spluttered for a second. "It, um, yeah, it was good. You?" "Good. I didn't get my math done, but still, learned some stuff. Do you remember what the cafeteria has for dinner?" Mitch shook her head, grinning and making a joke about mystery meat surprise. Happiness was just rolling off my girlfriend in waves, and it made my heart soar. This little contact made so much of a difference for her, and I could hear the music in her voice as she told me about that one guy in her education class who'd gone and put his foot in his mouth again. I just basked in how much my day brightened simply being near the woman I loved. My hand tightened in hers, and we went down the sidewalk together. *** My eyes closed as I leaned back against her, feeling my body hum from the string of orgasms Mitch had just given me. The little kisses which were currently feathering my neck were pretty nice, too. She'd been a woman possessed when we'd gotten back to the room. I just let her have at it. I mean, I'm not stupid, and the cloud I was floating on just now, mmm, yummy. I held her to me. "That was amazing, Sweetie." She pressed her lips to the back of my neck. "I'm glad you approve."

I turned in her arms, our legs entwined together under the sheets. "You know what this means, though." She smiled at me. "What?" "I still haven't done my Math." She giggled. It always amazes me how girlish her giggle is, when she does it. It was adorable. "You are so weird, Cindy." "Yeah? Well, you love me. So what does that make you?" "A connoisseur of all things bizarre and interesting." I laughed and kissed her, losing myself for a moment in the way her lips felt on mine. "I'm not the only one bizarre and interesting in this bed, missy." "Guilty as charged." She said it with such bombastic flair that I laughed again before rolling her over onto her back. I began to kiss down her body, pulling the tip of one of her breasts into my mouth. "I thought you, ooh, had math homework. God, Cindy, that's good" "Yeah, I do, but this is more fun. I can do it tomorrow morning, nothing until ten. Nothing but this." I dropped lower, kissing down her belly until I was settled between her thighs. I buried myself in her, revelling in the way she tasted and smelled, musty and sweet, the feel of her lips in mine, the sweet sounds she made at the top of the bed, the way she seized in bliss as I brought her to orgasm. I climbed back into her arms and kisses. "See? Better than Math." "You aren't going to fall behind?" "I'll have time in the morning." I ran my finger down her breastbone. "That is unless you distract me again." "No can do, babe. I've gotta be down at the ticket office at seven to be in line. Playing Vanderbilt this weekend." "Football, right? Is that an important game?" Mitch snorted with laughter. "We should win easily, but Vandy's a bunch of brainiacs. They can surprise you. I wish you'd let me take you to a game."

I wrinkled my nose. "It's football. The football players at my high school were all jerks. People treated them like gods." "Did you have a good team?" "For our size school we were decent. Biggest game of the year was always against Daviess County. It was all people could talk about. The whole town would shut down. I thought it was nuts." Mitch looked at me with amused incredulity. "But you're an athlete." "Yeah, a female athlete in a conservative little bass-ackwards Georgia town. I was tolerated. Not celebrated." "And that chafed you a bit?" "We won two state titles while I was there, and we barely even got noticed. Our football team never made it past the second round of the playoffs." "So you have a chip about them, huh?" "Of course not. Except, yeah. We were actually lucky. Our A.D. had two girls who played softball, so the women's programs weren't completely ignored like at some other schools, funding-wise, at least." Mitch ran a finger up and down my arm, which calmed me instantly. "I think we're lucky. Do you know how screwed up people get by being treated like that?" "Yeah, maybe." "I grew up in Florida. High school football is the shit there, too. Our quarterback raped a girl my senior year. Wanna guess what happened to him?" "You broke his nose?" That made Mitch smile, but her eyes were serious. "I wish. Should have. Thought about it. But the girl, Molly, she was demonized, tortured for speaking up. And she was just a Sophomore, not even sixteen. Her parents had to take her out of school." Mitch just played with my hair, her look haunted as she gazed at me. "I wouldn't ever want to be like that.. We, you and me, at least, are going to have to be functioning members of society someday, regardless of our athletic laurels. Just a quiet life." I snuggled in. "I don't think you'll ever live a quiet life, miss thang."

"Well quiet enough. Doesn't sound so bad." "So if football is so terrible, why do you want to take me to a game?" "Because it can bring out the best in people, too. You see athletes who found charities, serve their communities. There are kids who stay in school just because they can play sports. And the sense of togetherness, ninety thousand people all pulling towards the same goal. It's amazing, and overall, I think there's a lot more good than bad." I made a show of rolling my eyes. "Okay, fine, one game." Mitch responded with a huge smile and a big smacking kiss that made me laugh. I'd gone to football and basketball games in high school. Everyone did, it was the scene on Friday nights. I never actually watched any of the games, though. It wasn't like I didn't know the rules, or anything. My dad and brother were casual fans, and the fate of local teams was a regular topic of conversation growing up. Our football games were small town things, a few hundred people at the most with a fifteen to twenty person band, depending on how many students signed up that year. Musical talent not required. One thing was for sure, though, nothing had prepared me for what was in store for me that Saturday. Now, I'll never be the level of psycho fanatic that Mitch is, but the pageantry, the people, the relentless energy, it was nothing like I'd expected. And to think it had all been happening just blocks away from me for the last two years. By halftime everyone was having a rollicking good time, seeing as we were up by three touchdowns and the beer people had snuck in was flowing pseudofreely. Mitch had her arm around me and I was getting closer and closer to not being nervous about it. I really shouldn't have been, as there was rampant hugging, arm around singing, and other random contact happening everywhere. "Hey, Kirkpatrick! You get my text?" We turned around to see Jimmy coming down the concrete steps to our row. "Yeah, you know I'm not supposed to be doing that." "C'mon, we need you." "Seriously? There are a lot of girls in your dorm. Ask one of them." "You haven't seen what I have to work with. Besides, you owe me."

"No, I don't." Mitch took a deep breath. "Fine, one time." "Awesome! Tomorrow at three. Intramural field C." He took off and Mitch groaned and buried her head into my shoulder. I grinned and looked at her. "What was that about?" "He wants me to play Ultimate tomorrow for his team." "And he can't find anyone else?" We weren't supposed to play intramural sports, even in the offseason. The coaches didn't want us getting ourselves injured playing weekend warrior. "It's a Co-ed league, so they have to have three women on the field at all times. I'm the most athletic woman he knows. And Jimmy has a bit of a competitive side. If I play they'll probably win. You could come play." "Ultimate. That's the one with the Frisbees, right?" Mitch laughed at me. "You're adorable. You could come watch, cheer for me." "Maybe, if you're nice to me." I was grinning ear to ear now, staring up into her beautiful blue eyes. She leaned forward, and my eyes fluttered closed as we kissed, literally in front of ninety thousand people. And I didn't care for a second. I'll always remember that being the day I became a Georgia Bulldogs Football fan. Standing with thousands of my fellow students, one arm around Mitch and the other around some guy I didn't know standing on my other side, swaying together singing the school song after our resounding victory, listening to the Chapel Bell ringing in the distance. We went out into the evening singing and cheering. My arm was around Mitch's waist, and hers around my shoulder, my hand up holding hers. "So what now?" I asked. "Well, the Resource Center is having a mixer, after party thing. If you're up for something like that. There'll be food." "That's the LGBTQ group right?" Mitch nodded. "Yeah."

It was odd. I'd spent the last two weeks with Mitch, I mean, really with her. Having sex every night. That was going to get interesting in a couple of nights, when Aunt Flo arrived for her monthly visit, but yeah. I wonder how lesbians deal with that? Anyway, I loved Mitch. Not just loved, but I was in love with her, definitely, without question. Even so, I still didn't think of myself as gay. Logically, that made no sense. I mean, clearly I wasn't straight. And the thought of ever being with a man again made me a bit queasy, so that should have told me something, but even so, as we made it to the party, I felt like an outsider. I clung to Mitch, terrified, as she introduced me around, confidently calling me her girlfriend. Here I was, in the belly of the beast, surrounded by people who could not have been more different than those I grew up with. My pastor would have called them demon possessed, unnatural hedonists given over to their depraved lusts and carnal appetites. If that were the case, they were the nicest group of depraved, lust-filled heathens I'd ever met. Every one of them was unwaveringly kind and welcoming, the only mild exception being one pretty redhead who I think was more than a little disappointed Mitch hadn't shown up alone. But still I got hugged and welcomed a dozen times over. A soft drink was pressed into my hand, and I found myself standing with a group of people talking about the game and being teased that it had been my first one. Inside ten minutes I was laughing and holding my own in the conversation. There was music, and eventually people were dancing. Most of the couples were same sex, but not all. I watched two young men dancing together, their arms around each other, each gazing into his partner's eyes. They shared a tender kiss, before the shorter one rested his head onto the other's shoulder. I couldn't take my eyes off them, and eventually Mitch wrapped me in her arms from behind. "What do you think?" "It's beautiful. They're beautiful." My voice was thick with emotion. Man, I wasn't the weepy kind. "Not what you expected, huh?" I put my arms over hers, lowering my voice to a whisper. "I was always told it was ugly. Unnatural. Wrong. But it isn't, is it?" "No. Just like you and me."

I leaned back against Mitch. "I love you." She kissed my temple. "I know. You wanna dance?" I nodded. "Yes." I turned in Mitch's embrace and wrapped my arms around her neck, resting in her strength as we began to sway to the music. I don't think we stopped touching the rest of the night, right up to the moment Mitch lay me down in our bed, stripping me gently before kissing her way down my body and taking me to heaven. It took a little convincing, but eventually Mitch let me do the same for her. We finished under the covers, my back to her front as I reclined against her so we could kiss as Mitch's talented fingers gently brought me to another orgasm. As I fell asleep in her arms I thought about today. It had been wonderful, one of the best days of my life. I'd had a lot of those in the last two weeks, and somehow I knew it was only starting. *** I snuck out early in the morning. I knew from experience that Mitch would sleep for a while if I let her, and I needed to get some work done if I was going to make it out to Mitch's game. I sent her a text when I finished breakfast, letting her know where I'd gone. Sure enough, she didn't respond until almost eleven. Mitch -- Missed you waking up. I was cold. Me - Poor thing. I was warm. Mitch -- Brat. Will I see you this afternoon? Me - I don't know. I have a lot to do. We'll see. Mitch -- Okay. I love you. Me - Love you, too. I had every intention of getting to the game, but I didn't want to promise anything in case things went sideways. But, tucked away in my favorite corner of Main Library, I was able to make it through both my Diffy-Q and Econ problems, and even made a go at an outline for my International Banking term paper. When I made it to the intramural fields I saw Mitch immediately. She was huddled up with her teammates, wearing purple, knee-length basketball shorts

with a white stripe, along with a loose tank top over a black sports bra, along with a visor and sunglasses. She looked amazing. I found a shady spot and sat down in the grass near a few other girls who were watching and giggling. The one nearest me smiled. "Hi, you have a boyfriend on one of the teams?" I could have just said yeah, or that I was here to see a friend, but I didn't. "No, girlfriend. In the purple shorts." "Really? She's something." I giggled. "You have no idea. How about you?" She scooted closer and pointed to a tall guy in the other huddle wearing green and yellow. "We're not actually dating yet. We talked at a party Friday and he told me about this, but I had to go before I could give him my number." Her face looked worried. "I hope showing up comes across as interested, instead of stalker-ish." I looked back across the field. "I don't think it's going to be a problem." I nodded toward the object of her desire, who had noticed she was there and was now jogging across the field. I smiled as she jumped to her feet, completely forgetting I existed. That was fine. My eyes found Mitch, almost on their own, I think. I was going to be patient, and let her figure out for herself that I was here. That took about five minutes, and I'm not sure which of us had a bigger smile when she finally saw me, but there was definitely an extra bounce in her step as the players ran out onto the field. Before today I was vaguely aware that Ultimate was a sport. I could have told you it was that one with the Frisbees, but that would have been about it. To be honest, this afternoon that was an advantage. When I watched Mitch play tennis my brain was always working, analyzing her form, her opponent's tendencies, searching for strategies. But I really couldn't do that now; I barely knew the object of the game. So instead I got to just watch her. The way she moved, decisive, powerful, but with a grace the boys lacked.

She wasn't the only girl on the field, of course, and I noticed the others too. The way they ran, the way their breasts bounced on their chest. The boys, they were fine looking, but the women seemed to just glow. Up until that moment I think I still thought of myself as straight, or mostly straight, with an odd attraction to one rather butchy tennis player. But that was a lie. I was drawn to the women. My eyes found them on the field, because they were beautiful in a way the others weren't. But no one outshone my Michelle. She was a marvel, casually flicking the disc over half the length of the field with almost perfect accuracy. At half-time she stripped off her loose top, playing the rest of the game in just her sports bra. It made my mouth go dry, watching her firm stomach and powerful shoulders glinting with sweat in the Autumn sun. She was beautiful, and I was gay. I let the fact sink into me. I wasn't joking or playing, I wanted her, for as long as she would have me. And I knew that I would never, ever want a man again. I wondered if I ever really had. But I wanted her, so badly I could feel my excitement literally oozing out of me. The game ended, and Mitch went with her team to bid 'good game' to their opponents. Jimmy was beaming, since they'd won easily. Once Mitch finished she put her white top back on and jogged over to where I was standing. "Hey, you made it! Did you mmph!" I cut her off with a kiss as soon as she was close enough, wrapping my arms around her and pressing myself against her body. It only took Mitch an adorable moment to register what was happening and reciprocate, our tongues dancing and caressing each other. After a long moment I traced my lips along her jaw to her where I whispered softly, "Take me back to our room," before giving her earlobe a nibble. Mitch gasped and turned back towards Jimmy. "Um so, yeah, I've gotta go. Bye!" "I bet you do, Kirkpatrick." I took Mitch's hands and started pulling her away, and she jogged after me, laughing. She fell in beside me, arm around my shoulders, mine around her waist, as I leaned against her. As soon as Mitch shut the door to our room I pushed her up against the wall kissing her as deeply as I could. My hands pulled at her tank top, and she

lifted it free and tossed it to the floor. My lips moved down her chest, tasting the salt of her sweat. I turned her around and herded her toward her desk chair, which she fell into with a wide-eyed expression as I dropped to my knees in front of her. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her shorts, and she lifted her hips so I could pull them down along with her underwear. I tossed them away and leaned forward, my mouth watering as the musky aroma of her arousal hit me. She actually tasted a little different, the salt from her sweat setting off her other flavors. It was still delicious, and I scooted her hips further to the edge of the chair for a better angle. "Oh my god, Cindy, that's so good, so good, ooh, fu-u-uck." I loved listening to her sex babble, since it was easy to tell how excited she was. And I knew I had her going. My hand journeyed up over her stomach and caressed her breast, and she quickly stripped off her sports bra to give me better access. I tweaked a nipple, rolling it between my thumb and middle fingers as I sucked her clit deep into my mouth. Mitch had gone incoherent, pushing her hips against my mouth as I worked and only a minute or so later she began spasming deep inside, her head thrown back as she rocked to the rhythm of her orgasm. As she came down I gently kissed her thighs, listening to her trying to catch her breath. "Holy crap, Cindy. Wow. Where did that come from?" "To the victor go the spoils." I let innocent wonder drip from my voice, trying to intimate that I was awed to service such an amazing athlete. Mitch laughed and pulled me up into her lap, me spreading out my sundress so the bare skin of our legs was pressed together as we kissed. After a moment I pecked her nose and forehead. "Sweetheart?" Mitch buzzed into my neck. "Yes, my love?" My heart skipped a beat hearing her say it, but I continued, touching her nose with my finger. "You need a shower." Mitch grinned up at me. "Yes, ma'am." A nibble on her ear, "Want me to wash you?"

"God, yes. Oh, shit, Cindy." I stopped running my tongue over her neck and stood up, unzipping my dress and letting it fall to the floor as Mitch's eyes went wide. I walked to my wardrobe, stripping off my bra and panties before pulling on my robe. I turned back toward my stunned girlfriend. "Just want to walk down like that?" Mitch shook her head and stood, pulling on a pair of boxers and a top before following me out of the room. It wasn't even dinner time on Sunday afternoon, so no one was in the showers, which meant we were able to claim the larger stall at the end. I hung up my robe on a hook, turning on the water and stepping inside, smiling seductively as I emphasized my curves under the spray. Mitch stripped almost clumsily, seemingly unwilling to take her eyes off of me as she did so. She was so sweet. Finally she made it into the shower, taking me into her arms. I let her hands travel over my body for a few delicious moments before I created some distance and loaded up a cloth with body wash. I took my time, touching and admiring her every joint and swell. She was intoxicating, the perfect mix of strength and softness, angles and curves. I reveled in the intimacy of what I was doing, and by the time she was washed and rinsed my insides were trembling with need.I looked up into her blue eyes, and the intensity of her stare left me almost breathless as I whispered, "All clean." She ran her fingers over my cheek. "Thank you, Cindy." "You're welcome." I could hear the quavering timbre of my voice. "It was my pleasure." A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Your pleasure. What a wonderful idea." I gasped as she pulled me close, turning me so my back was pressed against her. Her left hand touched my right cheek, tilting my head to the side so she could suckle my neck, while her right caressed my breasts before beginning to slide down over my tummy and through the wet hair above my cunny. My body turned to Jell-O as her fingers dipped inside me, circling my clit before pushing into my vagina. I floated there, the warm water sluicing over my

body as Mitch's soft lips kissed my skin while her fingers brought me higher and higher. It didn't take long before I slipped into the turbulent embrace of orgasm, letting Mitch completely support me as I shook against her. When I calmed she turned me, kissing me deeply before fixing me with that gaze again. "We're going back to the room now, so I can have you properly. Okay?" I jerked a nod, fighting back a joyous tear. God, I wanted her to take me, I needed it as deeply as I needed oxygen to breathe. I'm not sure exactly how we made it back. The next thing I do remember was Mitch laying me down on our tiny little twin XL, and kissing down my body until her mouth closed over my sex, and I floated away into ecstasy. Almost ninety minutes later we were cuddling under our big comforter, spooning as my body hummed from our lovemaking while Mitch pressed little kisses into my neck and shoulders. "Did you like that?" Mitch's voice was playful, and her breath tickled my ear, making me giggle and turn in her arms, pressing my cheek into her shoulder. "Yeah." Our legs entwined under the covers as I looked up into her eyes. "Two things." She chuckled, fingers through my hair. "What's that?" "Well, number one, seeing you play today, I'm pretty sure I'm a lesbian. Like, Ninety-nine point nine nine percent sure." She smiled. "So, still some doubt?" I traced a fingertip over her collarbone. "Just a tiny bit. You're welcome to keep trying to convince me all the way though." "You can count on it, missy. What's number two?" "I'm starving." That made Mitch laugh out loud. God, I loved listening to her laugh, and watching her smile, and feeling her touch me. I was completely besotted with this woman. "Okay, what time is it?" "Like, seven-thirty."

"So the cafeteria's closed. What do you want?" "You could go get us Chinese." I smiled big as Mitch rolled her eyes. "Alright, this time, for you." Mitch punched our usual order into her phone and slipped on some jeans and a T-shirt. "You better still be naked when I get back, hear me?" I stretched out, pulling the comforter away and revealing my body. "Mmm, deal." "You aren't making leaving easier." "You'll just have to hurry back." Less than five minutes after she left the face-time tone sounded on my phone, and I picked it up thinking Mitch was calling just to be sure I hadn't gotten dressed. I count myself very fortunate that I did actually glance at the name on the screen before accepting. It was my brother Carl, which made me yelp and jump across the room to my dresser, where I threw on a T-shirt and pair of shorts before accepting the connection. "Hey sis!" "Hi, sorry, I was, um, Hi!" I couldn't come up with anything. I pushed my messy hair behind my head. "So what's up?" "Well, I just wanted to give you a head's up that I'm going to be bringing someone home for Thanksgiving that I want you and everyone to meet." I smiled. "Hey, that's great! Congratulations." "I just wanted to introduce you guys, so maybe there'd be at least one friendly face when we get there." Carl took a deep breath and placed his device on some sort of stand, sitting back on his couch. "So, Cindy, this is Bridget." A woman sat down next to him. She was pretty, tanned, with long dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. "Hi. So you're dating my brother? I'm so sorry." "Hey!" They both laughed.

I continued, asking if she'd met my parents yet, which was answered with an emphatic negative, although they said Mom and Dad were aware of her existence. "So, what do you do, Bridget?" "I teach Spanish at Windsor Forest High School." "Cool. So are you Hispanic?" Her coloring certainly made that a strong possibility. I'm not sure if that would be an issue with my parents. If she were black it certainly would have been. "My mom is Guatemalan. My dad was a youth pastor who led a mission trip to her hometown. He sort of brought back more than anyone expected." "Wow. I bet they have a story, don't they?" "Oh, yeah." I spent the next twenty minutes getting Carl and Bridget's story. My brother works for NOAA, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, at Gray's Reef off the coast of Savannah. As a side hustle he leads diving groups on the weekends, which was where they'd met. Apparently she went on three of his diving trips before she worked up the nerve to try to talk to him. "So why aren't Mom and Dad going to like her?" "Other than them being racist? She's a couple of years older than me, not nearly as religious as they'd probably like, and she has a gay older brother." "Oh, wow. Yeah. It's going to be interesting." "And we're living together." "Oh, shit." "Cindy!" I could hear the playful remonstrance in Carl's voice. "What, you're living in sin and you're worried about me using bad language? Perspective, please. Do they know?" That got a sarcastic laugh from my brother. "Absolutely not." We all started laughing, and we started speculating on whether or not that information would kill Mom or Dad first, which was when Mitch came back into the room. I'd completely forgotten that was going to happen.

"Hey, babe, I thought I said no clothes." Fear spiked through my body at her mocking remonstrance. "Hi, Michelle, it's my brother and his girlfriend!" I made a desperate face at her, and I saw her eyes go wide as she realized what she'd just done. "Who's that?" Carl's voice sounded confused. God, maybe he hadn't heard. "That's my roommate. She went out for Chinese. Michelle, this is my brother Carl and his girlfriend Bridget." I was trying not to panic as I held up the phone so they could see each other. "Hello!" She waved at the screen. Mitch's voice was scared, too. Luckily, she had enough sense not to try to explain away what she'd said. "Well, my dinner is here, and I'm pretty hungry, so I'll see you in a few weeks?" God, please just let me hang up. "Sure, sis. See you then. Love you." "Love you, too. Nice to meet you, Bridget!" She waved 'bye" and I hit the red disconnect icon. Mitch was grinning at me sheepishly from her desk chair. "So, how bad was that?" "I don't think he noticed? I mean, I really hope he didn't hear or understand." I buried my head in my hands and started laughing. "He's all worried because he thinks Mom and Dad won't approve of him living with his slightly older, half Guatemalan girlfriend. He's bringing her to Thanksgiving. If he only knew." "Well, you could come out. It'd take all the pressure off him." I stopped laughing, and Mitch's face fell at my pained expression. "Damn, I'm sorry, Cindy." "No, it's okay. I just, um," my face twisted with emotion, and in a flash Mitch was there and holding me close. I climbed up into her lap, letting the tears come, while my lover and best friend rocked me gently in her arms. "Shh, shh, Baby, I've got you, I love you. Oh, Sweetheart." I'd never heard so much concern in Mitch's voice, and I took several great gulping breaths, trying to steady myself, to get control, as much for her as myself.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying." My voice wasn't steady, but at least I was intelligible. "Of course you do, Sweetheart." I took a moment to gather myself. "I'll never be able to take you home. They may not like Bridget, but they'll accept her eventually. Not us though. Never us." Mitch held me close. "Don't say never. Besides, my parents are going to love you. Actually, they already do." I looked up into her lovely blue eyes. "You told your parents about me?" "Of course. They can't wait to meet you." I rested back against her. Would I trade my family for this? I couldn't answer that yet. Luckily, I didn't have to make that decision tonight. *** I slipped out while Mitch was still sleeping in the morning, and I didn't see her again till that afternoon when we were meeting to work out. She smiled at me when I walked into the locker room, and I wondered if she was nervous about where my head was at regarding us. I wanted to put that to bed, so I smiled back, walked up and kissed her. There were several other girls from the team in the room, including Carrie. Obviously Mitch and my relationship wasn't a secret anymore, and I remembered what Carrie had said. The best way to reassure Mitch that we were okay was to touch her, and to let her touch me. Which I didn't mind at all. The kiss was relatively chaste, but I let her hug me for a good while. She wasn't in any hurry to let me go, but when we did separate she asked if I was okay, and I told her I was now, watching her smile light up her eyes. Thanksgiving break finally arrived, and I couldn't remember being so nervous going home. I'd managed to get a ride off the online carpool board, so I didn't have to be worried about one of the parents coming to get me and meeting Mitch. Dad was at work, but Mom seemed to be happy I was home, mostly because I volunteered to go pick up my little sister after school, I think. There was this massive disconnect from my last visit. The biggest thing I'd been hiding then was that I was friends with a lesbian. Something that would

have gotten looks of disapproval, but nothing more. Now I knew I was a lesbian, which would likely get me thrown out of the house. Luckily Charlotte, my sister, was her usual bubbly self, amplified with the fact that she'd just started her long weekend. I took her over to the Dairy Queen and we got sundaes and sat and talked. She was eleven now, and I noticed that boys were starting to seep into our conversations. When she asked me about college guys I lied, saying I was taking a break from men, without implying I intended that break to be lifelong. Dad was home when we got back. He acknowledged my presence with a few perfunctory questions, barely looking at me while I answered. He dismissed me by telling me Mom needed help with dinner. "So, are you seeing anyone?" "I'm taking a break from guys, Mom. Trying to focus on my studies" "Cindy, college is the largest group of single men you'll find, all with excellent earning potential. You need to take advantage of that. You can't get back together with that nice boy you dated last year?" "No, mom. And that's what I'm supposed to look for in a partner? Earning potential?" She closed her eyes and looked down. "Sweetheart, I know you're young, and you don't understand. You want the Disney fairytale. It doesn't exist. If you want a good life, you find a good, kind man, who'll support you and give you children." "Is that what you did?" "Your father has always been good to me, Cindy. I've never wanted for anything. He gave me you, and your brother and sister. I have a good life." "Do you love him?" "Of course I do. Being in love fades Cindy. Love is something you do. I support him, I run his house, raise his children, and give him a place to come home to. Someone who, well, that's love, Sweetheart." "Mom, I don't need someone to support me. I'm going to finish college, and I'm going to be able to work and support myself."

"Cindy. Men don't want that. Men don't want women who are better at sports than they are or make more money than them. They want someone they can take care of. A girl who needs them, and, um, gives herself to them." "Mom!?" She was blushing hard. We'd never had 'the talk' about sex. She'd walked me through my first period and bought me my first bra, but sex was taboo. Hearing her even mention it in passing was stunning. "You're old enough to know. That's part of it. Whether you want it to be or not." "Well I don't. Not right now." I had to make myself add the last bit, and luckily our discussion was cut off by the kitchen timer, and I made sure it didn't start again after dinner. That night was bad. It was the first night I'd spent not wrapped up in Mitch's arms since well, you remember. I finally sent her a text a little after eleven. Me -- I hate not being with you. Mitch -- Me too. You open your suitcase yet? Me -- No. Why? Mitch -- Just do it. I slid out of bed and padded over to the wall where it was, laying it down and unzipping it. I pulled the cover up and saw it, one of Mitch's shirts, lying on top of my clothes. Me -- You rascal. Thank you. Mitch -- I didn't even wash it. I put it up to my nose and breathed it in. I could smell her, and that made me smile. I climbed back between my sheets, holding her shirt close. Me -- I love you. Mitch -- I know. I giggled and shook my head at the Han Solo reference. What is it about rakes that women find so attractive? I guess it isn't the rake; it's the heart of gold underneath. Mitch had a heart of gold. And it was all mine. I snuggled in with her shirt and fell asleep.

*** Carl and Bridget arrived in the morning, which took ninety-nine percent of the focus off of me and my overly progressive ways. Even I could see how nervous Carl was when they walked in the door. Bridget seemed to be playing it cool, though, and I got a big hug from both of them. To be honest I don't really want to write down all of the things my parents said over the next few hours. Of course, they didn't just hurl outright insults, but they were condescending and disapproving towards her. Maybe it was when they asked if her mother, who had graduated from Clemson, spoke English, or if she (Bridget) was in the country legally. It was eye opening. They had no problem being generous or magnanimous to other races so long as they could look on them as disadvantaged. But seeing one sitting at the dinner table, not just as an equal, but presuming to be worthy of their son, that was something different. It was an ugliness that I'd always been aware of, on some level, at least, but seeing it play out with my brother's heart in the balance was awful. Unfortunately I wasn't able to ask her the questions I really wanted to, about her older brother and how he got along with her family. Not only would it be suspicious if I were too curious, she hadn't volunteered the information that her brother was gay. I couldn't blame her for that. What stunned me was how completely unflummoxed Bridget was through the whole ordeal, answering often demeaning questions with grace and poise. It probably helped that she faced gangs of hormonal teenagers on a daily basis, but still. Even through it all she gallantly offered to help clean up, and I think I could see my mom softening towards her at least a little bit. Or maybe it was just my imagination. What wasn't lost on me was the fact that if my situation had been known, Carl's questionable, in their eyes, choice of girlfriend would have been completely forgotten. The food, though, had been outstanding, and after assisting Bridget and Mom with cleaning up I retired into the living room where Carl and my dad were watching football. Dad was already in his recliner, nodding off under the effects of too much turkey. I sat next to Carl on the sofa and pulled a blanket from the back of the couch around me, wishing I had my warm girlfriend to lean against.

On the screen the Cowboys' running back broke free for a long gain. "Wow, nice run." I was a little surprised I'd even said it out loud, but my Dad and brother both turned towards me like I'd mentioned my broker was E.F. Hutton. Dad's eyes narrowed. "Since when do you watch football?" I shrugged. "My roommate, Michelle, she's a big fan. She finally talked me into going to a few games with her." "Wow," Carl shook his head, "She must be persuasive. Same girl you play doubles with, right?" There was something in the tone of his voice that immediately put me on my guard, or maybe I was just being paranoid. "Yeah." "I've seen you guys play on YouTube. You're good." Crap. If he'd seen us play, then he'd seen Mitch. It had been stunningly obvious what Mitch was to me the moment I'd met her. How long would it take watching on the computer for Carl to figure it out? My dad, though, I could almost guarantee he had never watched me play. "This girl you're rooming with is a Christian, right?" I grimaced inside. We hadn't really talked much about religion. Mitch certainly wasn't a conservative evangelical, which is the only type my parents would have accepted as a Christian, but as far as I knew she wasn't overtly hostile to the concept of God. "I think so. I mean, she's a very moral person." Dad gave me a stern look, and I was afraid he was going to launch into a sermon about being unequally yoked, but the tryptophan from the turkey won over and he settled back into his easy chair with only a stern look. I counted my blessings and leaned back into the couch. It wasn't until much later that I really got a chance to talk to Carl. I'd slipped out onto the back porch with a glass of sweet tea. It was, unfortunately, too late in the year for fireflies, but the soft sounds of early evening were still calming. "Hey, Sis." Carl emerged from the back door, hand in hand with Bridget, and they sat on a bench nearby. "Hey. Bridget, I'm so sorry that my parents are such, well, you pick a word."

She held up her hand. "It's okay. I'd been forewarned." I shook my head. "No, it's not. Okay, I mean." I sighed and looked into the kitchen through the window. "Is Mom still up?" Carl shook his head. "She just went to bed, and Dad is asleep in his chair. So, mom says you're not dating anyone. She's very disappointed." "I bet." I sipped my tea, slightly bemoaning the fact there was no alcohol of any kind to be had in my parents house. "I'm doing fine." "So, your roommate, I have watched you play, you know. Is she gay?" My heart rate suddenly doubled, and I made myself breathe before I answered. "Yeah, she is. You can't say anything." "I won't." He looked at his girlfriend, who nodded to him. "We, just, um, couldn't help but hear, um, when she came into the room while we were talking." I felt a block of ice drop into my chest. They'd heard. My mind raced to come up with a believable story, but to be honest I'd been trying to invent one since the incident, without any success I might add. I wished Mitch were here. She could have come up with something and charmed her way out of this situation. But I wasn't Mitch. In fact, she was the anti-me, just like Tiwana had said. "Cindy, it's okay." Carl shifted closer to me. "You can talk to me. You're rooming with a lesbian." He said it as a statement of fact, without judgment or distaste. I nodded. "You and her, are you more than friends?" I thought about her, my brave, gloriously outgoing girlfriend, who was never afraid to be herself to anyone. I think that's what I loved about her most. Could I, one time, summon just a modicum of her courage? I sucked my lips back between my teeth and stared at the wood of the deck for a second, tears stinging my eyes, a vision of Mitch's bright blue eyes glinting with mischief in my mind as she smiled at me. "Yeah, we are. A lot more. I, um, I love her."

I felt my brother's hand slide over mine, which were clasped together in my lap. I looked up. Carl's eyes were shining with concern. Bridget's hand was covering her mouth, her expression soft. I looked at them both, desperation plain on my face. "You can't tell Mom and Dad, please, oh god, please." With that I broke down, tears falling from my eyes, a bone deep terror filling my soul. "Cindy." Carl's voice was hurt, and he pulled me up into a hug, and I buried my face into his broad shoulder, sniffling as I tried to choke back my emotions. In a moment there was another, smaller hand rubbing my back. I looked at Bridget, who was standing nearby. I smiled at her, and she joined our embrace. I let my family hold me for a moment longer before we sat down, and I told them the story. "So that's it." I looked back into the house. "They won't accept it." Bridget put her hand on my knee. "When my brother came out, it shook my parents to their core. I mean, your parents may be conservative, but my dad was a Baptist minister. And he came around, even left his job and denomination rather than lose his son. It wasn't easy, and I wasn't always privy to everything that went on between them, but I know he lost a lot of so-called friends. But God was good, opened doors for him to be able to start his own free church, and it's thriving. Anyone can change, and people can surprise you." Carl rubbed my back. "And you have me, no matter what. I promise." I tried to thank him, but I couldn't get the words out. They started asking me questions about what Mitch was like, and we talked on the porch until after midnight. I felt loads better by the time I crawled into bed. I was having to share with my little sister, since Mom and Dad wouldn't let Carl and Bridget share a room until wedding rings were exchanged by all parties. Luckily Charlotte doesn't take up much room. I fell asleep listening to her gentle breathing, and dreaming of a day when my whole family would accept me as I am. *** "So, how'd it go?" "Mmm." I whimpered miserably and nuzzled into Mitch's shoulder. "That bad, huh?"

"I got to meet Bridget, she's great. But, god, I hated lying to my parents. And I was scared the whole time I was there. It was awful." Mitch kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry." "It's okay. You're worth it. For now." She burrowed her hand into my side, making me squeal and jump. I'd caught a ride home with the same carpool as I had heading out, and Mitch had been waiting for me as soon as I'd entered our room. That had been almost an hour ago, and now I was completely naked, floating in a post orgasmic haze, my body pressed against my lover's as she held me under our comforter. I was also home. "Just for now, huh?" She rolled me onto my back, and I struggled feebly as she pinned me down. "You're going to pay for that." "I'm sorry." I made my eyes as big as I could, biting my lip and trying to look as pathetic as possible. "That's right." She pivoted off me so she could strip off her boxers, the only piece of clothing she was wearing, before straddling me again, knee walking up until her sex was right above my face. "No complaining. Get to it." I stifled a laugh, like I would ever complain about a chance to eat Mitch out. I wrapped my arms around her thighs and pulled her down to my salivating mouth and buried my tongue in her. I sighed as I let her flavor wash over me. It'd only been a few days, but damn. Mitch's fingers ran through my hair as she looked down. "Did you miss me?" I stared up into her eyes. "Mm-hmm." "Ooh, I liked that. Can you do that again?" I pulled her clit into my mouth and started to hum. "Oh, damn, Cindy, that's, oh sweetie that 's so good, oh, gee-ahh..." She started to grind herself against me, and I knew what I was doing was going over well. I decreased the intensity a little, wanting to drag it out some. I was having fun, too, after all. But eventually my desire to feel her come won out, and I pushed forward into the rhythm that I know would get the job done.

"Oh, yes, just like that, just, mm, a little, ooh, more, Cindy, wow." Mitch's spine arched, her head lolling back as my tongue swirled over her nub and her body began to pulse. I held her to me, giving her every moment of stimulation I could before she finally pushed herself away. "Oh wait, no more, wow." I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat as she slid down my body until she could cover my lips with hers. I opened my legs slightly so her thigh would rub against my sex while our tongues twirled together. She did the same, her wetness gliding over my skin as we moved together. Her mouth moved to my neck, and I ran my nails down her back, making her moan into my skin. I rolled Mitch over, rising up on my knees and changing the angle so our labia were sliding over each other. I rocked back and forth, holding Mitch's leg up to my body. Mitch was staring up at me, wide eyed, and I smiled down at her as we moved together. Slowly my pleasure built, and I began to moan and sigh, my eyes fluttering closed as my orgasm approached, and then it was on me as I spasmed against my lover. When I caught my breath and opened my eyes, Mitch was just staring at me. "God, girl, that was the sexiest thing I've ever seen." If I could have blushed through my flushed cheeks I would have as I smiled down at her and rested my cheek against her leg. "Still think I'm sexy, huh?" "Cindy, you don't have any idea how beautiful you are to me." Mitch's voice was heavy with emotion, and her eyes, god, I didn't think anyone would ever look at me like that. My heart broke in my chest, and I was just overwhelmed by how much I loved the woman touching me. I did the only thing that made sense, easing down on top of her until I was wrapped in her embrace, our lips locked in a passionate kiss. Slowly she turned me over, so I could feel her gentle weight on top of me, my legs wrapped around her. We went from kissing to snuggling and back over and over, reveling in our closeness and intimacy. Finally we settled into our normal positions, me being the little spoon. "So, I told Carl and Bridget about us." "You did?" "Yeah. Well, they heard you when you came back into the room last time, so they had questions." Mitch groaned and buried her face in my hair. "Damn, I'm sorry."

"It was fine though, like the only bright spot of the whole weekend." "That's good." She stroked my arm. "See, maybe it won't go as badly as you think." "I'm not worried about my sibs, Sweetie. But they did invite me down for a week after spring semester." I kissed the inside of her wrist. "You could come with me." "An extra week on the beach with you? Deal." She whispered in my ear, "If it means I get to see you in a bikini." I laughed. "You see me naked every day. I'm naked right now." "It is not the same thing. I can't wait." "Really?" I turned in her arms, putting some sexy purr in my voice. "Well, luckily it's still early. You don't have to wait." There was laughter in Mitch's voice. "Really? Round three?" I ran a finger over her breastbone, pouting out my lower lip. "Unless you don't want to." "Oh-ho-ho, girl." Turns out she did want to. A lot. *** We had a repeat separation, and for a good deal longer, at Christmas. We spent most of December trying to contrive something that would let me come visit Mitch and her family for the holiday, but we couldn't come up with anything that would be less than extremely suspicious. And the last thing I wanted was to give Dad or Mom any additional reason to research my roommate and doubles partner. I'd mentioned Michelle's imaginary boyfriend, Jimmy, a couple of times in what I hoped were innocuous ways. But I was still scared every second. We talked as often as we could, but it wasn't the same as being in her arms, and I had the hardest time sleeping without her, including several more nightmares. But eventually it passed, and we were back at school. The season was starting, and I fell easily back into the role of student athlete. Lidke wasn't back this year. Not a surprise, as we all could tell how homesick she'd been. But there was a new girl on the team, and poor Mitch had

to spend a few nights soothing my anxieties about being able to hang onto my spot. It lasted until I got on the court with this new freshman hotshot and took her apart. I'd been watching her for a week, diagnosing every weakness she had, and there were several, and when we played I was merciless in taking advantage of them, until she was literally screaming in frustration. It was awesome. The coaches knew about her issues, of course, but some people won't listen to anyone until they're given a more practical demonstration of their shortcomings, which I was more than happy to provide. As we approached our first match I got called into Coach Holiday's office, and to be honest I was a little nervous. Mentally I was trying to resign myself to the fact I may not ever be anything more than an occasional doubles player and unpaid assistant coach. "Hey, coach. You wanted to see me?" "Yeah, have a seat. Just wanted to say thank you for working with Barbara." "No problem. She's got a lot of talent." "It wasn't just the playing, which was impressive by the way, it was you talking it all through with her after. Not everyone would do that with someone they're competing for a spot on the roster with." My heart fell a little. "Whatever's best for the team." "Yep. And what's best for the team is you playing number six singles next weekend. Congratulations." I felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room. "Seriously?" "Cindy, I don't play favorites. If you give us the best chance to win, then you play. And you do. Michelle is playing number five, and Carrie will be on the number three court for now. I'm keeping you and Michelle at number three doubles." "Um, thank you." "I told you, it's not a favor. See you at practice." I managed to stumble out of the office, where Mitch was waiting for me at the locker room entrance, a huge smile on her face.

I could tell at first glance that Coach had already let her know, and she was beaming. Emotions roiled up through me, and I felt tears sting my eyes, stumbling forward until I was in her arms. "So proud of you, baby. You deserve it." Heather walked past and patted me on the shoulder. "Congrats, Spencer." "Thanks." I said it without separating from Mitch. Our relationship wasn't a secret from anyone on the team. In fact, according to the rumor mill we weren't the only couple on the team this year. After practice Carrie, Mitch and I all went out to celebrate at the local Chinese buffet. I texted my brother to let him know my news. At least he would be happy for me. Carl -- Congratulations! When's your first match? Me -- Next Saturday. Carl -- You going to tell Mom and Dad? Me -- They don't care. Carl - You should tell them anyway. I let it drop, but Mitch was looking over my shoulder. "You really aren't going to tell your Mom and Dad?" I shook my head, my general good mood rapidly dissipating. "Okay. Hey, Cindy, guess what?" I looked back at her, where she was staring at me wide eyed and biting her lip like a kid in a candy store. "What?" "You're playing singles for The University of Georgia." She popped her eyebrows at me, and I was only able to hold off a giggle for a second or two. Later that night, though, as we floated on our post-coital cloud, Mitch asked me again about phoning my parents.. I sighed, "What do you think I should do?" "I think you should make them make the decision. If they want to be shortsighted, misogynistic jerks then that's on them. Don't do it for them." "But, what if," I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Then it hurts, but you know you tried." She wiped a tear from my cheek and kissed me behind my ear. I nodded. I knew she was right, and they wouldn't come or even be congratulatory. And of course, if they couldn't get behind something like my athletic achievements, they were never going to accept my choice in a partner. Another tear slipped free, but the woman I loved pulled me close, and there was rest and peace in her arms. *** "Yeah, so, um, I'll leave tickets for you at the gate, if you want to come. Okay, call me. Love you both." I pressed the disconnect icon on my phone, breathing heavily. I looked around as college life passed by the bench I was sitting on. There were always people moving. I just sat and watched them for a moment, hoping that their lives were less complicated than mine. It was Monday, and we were starting our first week of practice leading to a match, and the energy level was exponentially higher. One of the assistant coaches pulled me aside and told me to come into the film room after practice. I just nodded and went back to hitting with Mitch. I jogged up to the net after a few minutes, where Mitch joined me. "Film room after?" I nodded. "Yeah." "That's good, that means they have some tape on who you'll be facing. You love tape." I grinned. "Yeah, I really do, don't I?" I looked down for a second. "I called them." "Good. And?" "Left a message on the house phone. Told them the news and that I could get them tickets if they wanted to come." "Okay, ball's in their court. Let's work on your backhand." We stayed busy the whole week. The coaches gave me six different matches involving my opponent to look at. And I did. It was probably a good thing that it wasn't actual film, because I would have worn right through it. It

kept me busy, and from wondering if I was ever going to hear back from Mom or Dad. I finally did on Thursday, a message from Mom waiting for me after Design got out. It was a cursory congratulations and the statement that they couldn't possibly get away this weekend. She didn't give a reason, but her tone had made it clear she was surprised I'd even asked. I played the message for Mitch once we were alone in our room, and she held me while I fought away tears. I don't know why I was upset; I knew they wouldn't come. I guess hope springs eternal. Once I'd settled down Mitch opened up my laptop and pulled up the tape of her Saturday opponent. "Okay, so how do I beat this girl?" The answer to that question was to show up and hit the ball hard. There was no way the person we were watching could absorb anything like the power Mitch could throw at her. But it was the perfect distraction, and we went through the tape, breaking down her groundstrokes and serve. By the time I fell asleep, with the warmth of my lover nestled behind me, I was dreaming about my big day on Saturday. Mitch would be there, and that was all that really mattered. *** "You ready, Spencer?" "Yeah." I looked up at Danielle, our team captain. Nodding my head with what I hoped was a confident look. "You'll do great. You've got this." I bounced up to my feet and shouldered my bag, heading out to the court to warm up. I had my head down as I walked out, trying to find my focus, but it didn't last long. "Cindy! Woo-hoo! That's my sister!" My face split into an ear to ear as I heard Carl's voice, and I found them in the stands immediately. They were both wearing red Georgia shirts, Bridget's dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and through a ball cap and Carl's sandy blonde hair in its usual messy mop. I ran to the wall while they came down the steps, reaching up so I could take my brother's hand. "You're here?" My voice was stunned. "Of course, we wouldn't miss it. My little sister's big day."

I was just overwhelmed, and I just stood there, holding his hand, until I felt a presence beside me. I looked over my shoulder to see Mitch beaming at me. "Hey, sweetie, this is my brother, Carl, and his girlfriend, Bridget. Guys, this is my Michelle." Mitch tipped her cap as they all said 'hi'. Carl looked back at me. "Any chance of dinner after the match? My treat. Both of you. I'd like to get to know the woman who melted my little sister's heart." Mitch answered for us. "Absolutely." She turned to me. "You ready to go get started, partner?" I could feel my face harden. "Oh, yeah." Mitch and I only dropped a single game in our doubles set, which was a great way to get warmed up, but I'll admit my nerves returned in full force as the singles started. I began with the serve and promptly double faulted twice before being broken at love. I was down love - two before I could even blink, and I was feeling a little panicked as I prepared to serve in the third game. Mitch had just finished a long first game and was switching sides when she jogged over. "Hey. Focus. You've been waiting your whole life to play this match. Have fun. You've got this." She pumped a fist at me before heading back to her baseline, and I bounced the ball between my racquet and the hardcourt beneath my feet. Okay, no more trying to hit the ball through the wall. A good serve out wide, get ahead in the point, make her run. I checked that my opponent was ready and tossed the ball into the air, slicing it out wide. She got it back, but her return was short, and I had plenty of court to put it away. I closed my fist as I headed back to the baseline. This time I curved my serve into the body and she couldn't get around it, sending her return wide. I held serve easily, and I was off and running. *** "Geez, Mitch, that girl actually started cringing every time you served." There was a note of awe in Carl's voice. Mitch sat back in her chair and swallowed the tortilla chip she was chewing. "It was Cindy's idea. She was a freshman, and we didn't reckon she'd

ever seen a serve as big as mine, so we decided that the first game I was going to hit every one as hard as I could right at her. Totally took her out of her game." Bridget leaned forward. "Didn't you hit her once?" "Twice." Mitch picked up another chip and dipped it into the bowl of salsa. "First time was on my second serve of the match. It was awesome." I laughed and shook my head. "You're terrible." Mitch just grinned at me and slid her foot up my calf under the table, which caused me to giggle and pull away. When I looked up Carl was just beaming at me, and my cheeks blazed red, but I couldn't stop smiling. My brother shook his head. "Wow, Mitch, I don't think I've ever seen her like this." Bridget looked at him. "She never had a massive crush on someone as a teenager?" "No. She was always very clinical about her boyfriends. She'd just decide on one, like a pair of shoes." "No I didn't!" "Uh-huh." Carl pointed at me. "And she could, too, 'cause she was the prettiest girl in school, and she knew it." "Well, honestly that didn't take much. It was a really small school." Mitch was staring at me with amused incredulity. "So you were the valedictorian and an athletic star. Were you the prom queen, too?" "No, I was not." "She was the Homecoming queen." Carl gave me a wicked grin. Mitch groaned. "I can't believe I fell for a Homecoming queen." "You?" I leaned toward her. "What about me? Look who I fell for." Mitch shrugged. "Of course you did. Good girls always go for the bad ones. Didn't you ever watch 'The Breakfast Club'?" Luckily the waitress arrived with my Arroz con Pollo, which looked amazing. Mitch's dish, on the other hand, "What is that?"

"Camarones a la Diabla. Shrimp in a spicy sauce. See, you take a tortilla, add some shrimp, beans, rice," she bit into it, "yummy." "You know I'm not letting you kiss me tonight if you have spicy shrimp breath." "You aren't, huh?" She leaned toward me, and I giggled like a schoolgirl, raising my shoulder to playfully fend her off. Laughter sounded from the other side of the table and I remembered where I was and who I was with. I looked up, blushing furiously, to see Bridget giggling. "You two are adorable." "Sorry." "Don't apologize, sis. I think it's great. Honestly I always worried about you." "Me? Why?" "Because of what I said. Clinical. Love isn't a transaction. It's instinctual, primal. I was afraid you'd never let someone just make you happy." I giggled at him. "Yeah, 'cause you're such an expert." We kept digging a bit at each other, but to be honest it meant the world to me that Carl and Bridget were there, that they accepted me, and that they cared. Carl and I had never been super close, especially given our six-year age difference, but he'd always looked out for me. I remembered my second day of Kindergarten. My mom had taken me the first day, but the next morning I was on my own. At least, until Carl, then a manly fifth-grader, had taken my hand and walked me to my room. He'd sat by me on the bus and made sure I got there safely every day for the first two weeks, until I was confident enough to do it myself. Don't get me wrong, he always complained and whined when I tried to tag after him and his friends, or when mom made him keep an eye on me. But when I really needed him, I guess he'd always been there. And he still was. *** Our first road match came a few weeks later, and the whole way there Mitch was dropping not so subtle innuendos about getting to spend the night with me in a queen size bed.

I leaned against her and lowered my voice as the team bus rolled down I20 toward Tuscaloosa. "You realize we do have a match tomorrow. We'll have to conserve some energy." "We didn't conserve any energy last Friday night." Mitch shot me that wicked little look that made me tingle inside. "Yeah we did. I don't know about you, but I could have gone again." Mitch laughed and put her arm around me as I continued. "We made up for it after the match, though." "Oh, yeah.. You were an animal." I ran my finger up her arm and down her side. "You have that effect on me. Can't get enough." "Oh, baby." There was a purr in her voice and I leaned back for a kiss. We didn't hold it long, seeing as we were surrounded by our teammates, but I settled into her arms without any embarrassment and let the hum of the road lull me to sleep. We hadn't hidden our relationship when official practices had started. In fact, I found out pretty quickly that I was the only person on the team who hadn't realized Mitch was sweet on me by the end of last year. And no one, it seems, was surprised that I had eventually succumbed to her charms. What really shocked them was that Mitch had so easily settled into a relationship, and she endured the requisite ribbing that came her way. Her responses were always her, loud and bombastic, but never dismissive, never hinting that our relationship was anything less than everything she ever wanted. So no one batted an eye when we cuddled on the bus. They were more interested in talking about Heather and Justine, the new girl from Europe. Sparks had been flying there that were likely visible from space. Mitch told me they were a firecracker, going to burn bright for a second and then explode. I still didn't understand how she knew these things, but I'd learned to trust her. When we got to the hotel and received our room assignments Mitch and I somehow refrained from running towards the elevator. Once inside our room Mitch closed and locked the door behind us as I looked at the beds. They were huge. I mean, it's not like I hadn't been in hotel rooms before, even hotel rooms with Mitch, but this was different.

I was contemplating exactly how different it was going to be when Mitch wrapped her arms around me. "What'cha looking at?" Sex was dripping from her voice, and I had to fight back a shudder. "The beds. They're so big." I leaned back against her, innocence filling my voice. "What are we going to do with them?" Mitch kissed me below my ear and whispered, "I have a few ideas." "Yeah?" She scooped me up into her arms. "Oh, yeah." I was carried to the nearer bed and laid gently down. I scooted back to the middle as Mitch joined me, and she pushed the loose, knee length skirt I was wearing up to my waist. She planted kisses on my inner thigh, making me sigh. I lifted my hips so she could push the back of my skirt up under my butt, completely exposing my hips.. "I love that you're wearing this." "Did it on purpose. Wanted you to have, mmm, easy access." "Minx." She didn't object, obviously, hooking her middle fingers around my white cotton panties, stripping them off with practiced ease. My legs spread, almost on instinct, as Mitch settled between them, and my head rested on the firm pillows. Her kisses moved up my legs and the tingle of my arousal became a heat. We were lying comfortably, corner to corner on the bed, with plenty of room. My head fell to the side as her lips closed over my sex, and I began to relax into the pleasure my lover was providing when there was a knock on the door. I stifled my moans and Mitch answered. "Yeah!?" One of the assistant coaches' voice sounded on the other side. "Team dinner in fifteen minutes, Conference Room B. Mitch grinned. "Got it!" I looked down between my legs. "Can you get the job done in fifteen minutes?" She didn't answer, just popping her eyebrows at me and bending back to her work. Turns out she was very good at her job, and I was wearing a dreamy little smile by the time we made our way down to dinner

We politely declined invitations to cards and movies in one of the other girls' rooms, and they didn't push much, settling for knowing smiles. It was an amazing experience, being able to stretch out, really enjoy each other without worrying about sliding off onto the floor. It also somehow felt very adult, like we weren't just kids fooling around, but real partners making love. We didn't go for too long, though, what I'd said on the bus was true. But my body still felt like Jell-O as we cuddled in post-coital bliss. I nuzzled into her neck. "Think the hotel would notice if we smuggled this bed back to campus?" "Probably, but we could try. Strap it to the top of the bus." I giggled and kissed her neck while she ran her fingers through my hair. God that felt amazing. "Still, there could be options." "Mmm, like what? You think they have dorm rooms with queens?" "No." Mitch's voice was serious, and I knew she wasn't kidding around. "But they have apartments." I opened some distance so I could turn and look at her. "Are you serious?" She nodded, rolling onto her side facing me. "Yeah. It'd give us a real bed, for one, and a kitchen. You have no idea how much I'd like to have my own stove and oven." "Mitch, I don't have a car." "I'll drive you. And there're plenty of complexes on campus bus lines. Students do it all the time." I wanted to say yes, so badly, but my practical, economical brain was whirling with all the obstacles. Money was first and foremost. Would an apartment cost more than the dorms? I'm sure the answer to that was yes, but by how much, I didn't know. Some of my scholarships could be used for something like that, but some others I wasn't sure about. And then there were my parents. Mitch saw my hesitancy and misread it. "If it's too fast..." "No, sweetheart, I'd love to. I really would. I love you. I just have to figure out the details."

Some of those details cleared up two weeks later, when Coach Holiday called me into her office. "I've pried free a quarter scholarship for you." "Really? I thought..." Coach held up her hand. "Cindy, you're turning into as much of an assistant coach as you are a player. And I want the new ladies to know you're a scholarship player. It'll help with credibility." She gave me a little half smile. "And it's not any of their business how much of a scholarship you have." I grinned back. "Got it, coach." She sat back. "So, how are you and Kirkpatrick? Looks like you're getting along." I blushed and nodded. "Yeah. We're great." "Good. I stay out of my player's relationships unless they're causing problems." She glanced toward the locker room, where Heather and Justine had had their first public fight yesterday. "Just be careful." *** "We can do it." Mitch's face lit up, which made me smile. But it only lasted for a second. "Good, so what's still wrong?" "Umm..." I hemmed and hawed for a moment. "Your family?" I nodded, looking down. "Look, we can afford a studio, maybe a cheap one bedroom, which has to be furnished. If my parents ever saw that, with only one bed, how would I explain that?" "Yeah, how could you explain it?" There was disappointment and hurt in her voice, and I knew why. It was easy to explain. All I had to do was come up with the courage to tell my parents that I was in a wonderful relationship with another woman, one I loved dearly and made me sublimely happy, and that I was going to live with her.

But the revelation to my parents of any of these facts filled me with a bone deep terror. I felt like a coward, and my eyes filled with tears. Mitch closed her eyes and shook her head. "Damn, Cindy, I'm sorry." I let her pull me into her arms and hold me. "No, it's my fault. I should tell them." "Yeah, but not until you're ready. And I don't think you are yet." I sobbed harder. Mitch just held me and stroked my hair until I stopped. She looked me in the eye. "Cindy, I don't know what it's like to live in a closet. I never have. And I've got no concept of how scary it would be to lose a parent because of who you are. But I am here, and I love you, and I want to be with you, no matter what." "I love you, too. I love you so much. I never knew I could be so happy. But..." "But what if?" I nodded, and Mitch continued. "Okay, what if? Could your parents order you home? Pull you out of school? Are they paying for any of this?" I shook my head 'no'." She was right. I was an adult, and my father couldn't stop me from doing what I wished. My father's name was on my savings account, but I could fix that. And I should, soon, just in case. But, other than a place to live during breaks, there wouldn't be anything they could do to punish me, besides them cutting me off, maybe taking me out of the will. Oh, and my insurance and phone. Mitch and I getting our own place would solve the first part. I would just have to decide if I could live with the rest. *** Mitch and I hunted for apartments in our minimal time off, eventually settling on a little one bedroom with a tiny six-foot square bathroom and a bedroom that could barely fit a queen mattress and two dressers, complete with a single, minuscule closet. But the little living room could hold a couch and a desk and a small entertainment center for Mitch's TV, which she'd gotten last Christmas. The kitchen was actually decent sized, and it was furnished and within our price range. If the landlord had any issues with two women signing the lease together he didn't show it, as long as we had the money. Luckily, Mitch's dad was happy

to give us a small loan to cover first and last. The apartment we were actually renting wasn't ready yet, but all leases started in July, so we wouldn't be able to move in 'til then anyway. The season continued, and I inked my spot in the roster at number six singles. If you've read Carrie's story on this site you know Justine and Heather's relationship imploded about two thirds of the way through the season, which got us all a talking to by Coach Holiday. I remember lying in bed with Mitch that night. "That's never going to happen to us, right?" Mitch pulled me tight. I fit against her so well. "No. They were a round peg in a square hole. We, my love, are made for each other. And I'm never letting you go. You're all mine, Cindy Spencer." "Promise?" "Yes, I promise." God, she made me feel safe, and adored, but never controlled. She made me a better, happier, more all-around person. I was more in touch with my emotions, and experiencing life with her made everything brighter, because she was larger than life. And by some miracle I made her happy. She'd given me her heart, even before I knew I wanted it. I hadn't forgotten Mitch's love language was physical touch, and I wanted to reciprocate what she'd just said, so I turned in her arms and rolled her onto her back. My lips found her neck, right in the spot she loved. I spent half an hour worshipping her body, moving slowly down until I had her firm nub between my lips, and she was shaking in orgasm. I did belong to her, and she belonged to me. We'd been together just over half a year, but my life no longer made any sense without her in it. *** Eventually the season ended with another SEC championship, and I'd lost only two matches all year. Mitch and I packed up her truck and headed to Savannah for our week with Bridget and Carl. What Mitch didn't know was that I had a little something in my bag that she'd never seen before. They took us out to Paula Dean's Seafood Restaurant, which was amazing, and the next day, which was a perfect, sunny eighty-five

degrees, we headed out to the beach on Tybee Island. I wore a pair of knee length denim shorts and a grey tank top. That wasn't any big deal, it was what I had under it that had my heart racing. I had never owned a bikini in my life. My mother had absolutely refused the one time I'd asked for one when I was fifteen, and the swimsuit I'd ended up with would have been conservative for a grandmother. The day before we'd left I'd gone to the campus store where they had a selection of items, including bikinis. Of course, they all bore the Georgia logo in some form, and I settled on a black two-piece, with a string top with the 'G' on the left breast, and 'Bulldogs' in script at the waist. Bridget and I spread out our blanket. Mitch was wearing a one piece and athletic shorts that framed her long, powerful body. She looked yummy, and I was pretty sure she was going to like how I looked, too. Mitch looked over at me and nodded toward the shore. "You wanna go down to the water?" "Sure." I striped off my top and shimmied out of my jean shorts, standing in the sun, smiling at my lover while her jaw hit the sand. She was speechless, but Carl wasn't. "Damn, sis, you look good." I smiled at him. "Thanks." I was pretty sure he was right. I weighed about ten pounds more than I had when I'd gotten to school two years ago, and it was all muscle. My shoulders, legs, and butt were all way more defined than they had been. My tummy was flat and firmer than it ever had been. I felt strong. In truth though, I'd always known I was attractive. The effect I had on boys made that clear. But now, seeing Mitch look at me with wonder in her eyes, for the first time I felt truly beautiful. Of course, my brother was no ogre, either, and he got an appreciative coo from his girlfriend when he pulled off his shirt, revealing an impressively muscled torso. Mitch let out a low whistle. "Damn, Bridget, we are a lucky couple of girls." Carl looked at her funny. "I didn't think you'd notice me." "Why not?" "Well, y'know," Carl pointed at himself, "guy."

"I'm not sexually attracted to cars, either, but I can tell when one looks good." Everyone laughed, and Carl responded, "Point taken." It was a wonderful day, swimming, laughing, throwing a Frisbee around. Eventually, though, we'd had enough sun and we decided to head back to Carl and Bridget's condo. We stopped at a grocery store on the way and got ingredients for a pasta dish that Mitch promised to prepare for dinner. She and Bridget set to it, which gave Carl and me a chance to talk. I told him about the apartment, and that I had no intention in telling Dad or Mom about it. "The real question is how do I get back without letting them know? I mean, if they step foot in the place, well, in the bedroom at least, they'd lose it." "Okay, so how about this? The weekend before you go back, come down here. We'll make sure you get to school." I jumped across the couch and threw my arms around his neck. "You are the best big brother ever!" "I know. I love you, sis. Really." I sat back, blushing. I've told you that our family wasn't big on displays of affection, public or otherwise. That was probably the most heartfelt thing Carl had ever said to me, and I was really touched. "You're getting mushy on me." "Cindy, do you know why Katie dumped me?" I gave him a stare. "You told me it was mutual." "Uh-huh. I lied. She dumped me. Know why?" I shrugged my shoulders. Katie had been my brother's girlfriend his last few years of college. I'd barely been in high school, and didn't have a clue as to what had actually happened. "Because she didn't think I loved her." "Did you?" "Yeah, I did." He sighed and sat back. "But I didn't know how to show it. With Bridget I'm trying harder and I'm not taking anything for granted. I tell her I love her every day. I don't think we had the best role models regarding that."

"No, we didn't. But you can learn how. I did." We spent the next fifteen minutes talking about the love languages, which he'd never heard of, and me describing how I'd had to come out of my comfort zone for Mitch. Carl snapped his fingers, pointing at me. "Bridget is gifts. She has these little knick-knacks from all the trips her dad took. He'd always bring her something home And she's always buying little things for her friends and family. And me. Damn," he looked thoughtful, "I didn't realize they meant that much to her." He grinned at me. "Look at you, being all wise." "I have my moments." We paused as we heard our girlfriends laugh about something from the kitchen. "And she's worth it. More than worth it." "This isn't a passing fad, is it, Cindy?" "I'm gay, Carl. You were right about what you said before, about guys. I'd just pick one. I didn't need them, or even want them. Just felt like I had to have one, 'cause everyone else did, y'know? But her, the way she moves, her smile. I'm so into her I can't even think straight. Being in her arms, it's heaven." Carl laughed and shook its head. "I'm really happy for you, sis. And you know you've got us, right? We're in your corner?" A tear stung my eye just as Mitch poked her head back into the living room. "You guys going to come get some of this? 'Cause if not, more for me." How I hadn't noticed the aromas filling the condo is beyond me. I could smell the Cajun spices and parmesan cheese, and I floated into the dining area. Mitch set a plate in front of me with a beautiful presentation of pasta and chicken. I remembered when I'd first known her, she'd told me she could fix me something that would make me weep. Well, I can't say that I shed tears, but damn, it was good. I could get very used to this. Everyone was impressed, and by the end of the meal Carl was eagerly toasting my taste in partners, if you'll pardon the pun. I still look back on it as one of the best weeks of my life. Mitch and I went to the beach several times, we went snorkeling, we walked around historic Savannah. The one thing we didn't get to do much was make love, as I was very hesitant to do so just on the other side of a wall from my brother.

Unfortunately the week did pass, but Carl and Bridget had one more gift for us. After taking us out to dinner Saturday night, they surprised us with a night in a local hotel. It wasn't a real expensive room, but it was private, and it was ours. I couldn't comprehend that this would be my and Mitch's last night together for months. Whenever I thought about it I'd start to panic, so I just put it out of my head as much as possible. And nothing could drive an unpleasant fact away like Mitch's touch. As we rode up the elevator to our room on the fourth floor I had this thought that once we got into the room Mitch was just going to take me. I wouldn't have minded in the slightest, in fact I was kinda looking forward to it, but that wasn't what happened. Instead Mitch went to the nearest dresser and set her phone down. She pressed the screen a few times and a lovely instrumental piece began playing. She turned back toward me, her gorgeous blue eyes shining with emotion while a mischievous smile played on her lips. "Dance with me?" I kicked off my conservative two-inch heels, restoring our natural height difference, which I loved, and went into her arms. My head rested on her shoulder as her hands caressed up my back, and I breathed in the light scent of her cologne as we swayed to the music, our bodies melding together beautifully. It was perfect, and I let myself just sink into the embrace of the woman who loved me. After several blissful minutes I felt her lips feather against my temple, and I turned my face to accept her kiss, which was soft and gentle and glorious. My whole body thrummed in pleasure with every beat of my heart, and I wrapped my arms around her neck as our tongues danced and swirled. Her hand moved to my sides, lowering the zipper on the yellow floral surplice dress I was wearing. She broke our kiss, stepping back as she pulled the cotton material off my shoulders. Her eyes took me in as I shrugged free from the garment, letting it pool at my feet. I reached up and began undoing the silky black button down Mitch had on. She rested her hand on my hips as I worked, not hurrying me along, letting me enjoy slowly revealing her lean, powerful body to my hungry eyes. Once unbuttoned I tugged the material free from her jeans, and she rolled her shoulders to get it off as I ran my hand up her sides, making her shudder. I

leaned in and kissed her neck, working my way down her shoulders. Her hands were on me again, and I felt the tension in my bra release, which I shrugged to the floor. Two could play at that game, and I pushed her arms up over her head so I could strip off the black sports bra Mitch was wearing, letting her small, firm B-cups bounce free. I took one into my mouth, swirling my tongue over the hard tip. "Oh, Cindy." She nuzzled her face into my hair as I continued, softly holding my head to her chest as I suckled one breast, and then the other. After a few lovely minutes Mitch's breast popped free from my mouth as she scooped me up into her arms. I seemingly floated across the short distance to the king sized bed, where Mitch laid me gently down. I scooted to the middle, eyes wide as Mitch climbed onto the mattress and crawled after me, covering me with her body as her lips found mine. It was so familiar, but so exciting at the same time. My body knew what was in store for it, and it began making itself ready, wetness spreading under my panties as my core rubbed against Mitch's jeans. My lover's mouth soon moved to my neck, and began its slow, sensuous journey down my body. I knew this would be the last time I felt like this for months, and I was determined to enjoy every second. Mitch was taking her own sweet time, but I was in no hurry for it to end. After a blessed eternity she reached the waistband of my white cotton panties, and my hips lifted instinctually so she could strip them away. I felt my desire wet against my skin, but Mitch didn't take advantage immediately, instead choosing to softly make love to my legs with her hands and lips, starting at my foot and working down my calf and over my incredibly sensitive inner thighs. One, then the other. By the time she finished my sex was screaming for attention, my hips lifting towards her glorious mouth. First there was one kiss on either side of my core before she settled between my legs, arms wrapping around my thighs, and pushed her tongue into me, making my world dissolve into pleasure. She was a goddess, and I the mere mortal upon whom she'd chosen to bestow her blessing. Her tongue danced and swirled, my orgasm approaching as she flicked and licked my clit. And as she took the little nub into her mouth, ecstasy wrapped me in its arms and rocked me back and forth, pulsing into my fingers and toes as I came and came.

Two fingers slipped inside me, expertly caressing that magic spot on the front wall of my vagina as Mitch rolled my pearl between the folds of skin surrounding it. This new and different sensation had me spinning back into the heavens again, and when I came down, her mouth closed around my clit for another, while her fingers pushed deeper, stroking in and out. It went on like that for so long, over and over, until I needed her mouth on mine so desperately that I sat up, pushing her away from my sex so I could sit up and kiss her. I could taste myself on her lips, something I'd long since stopped caring about. Still, she tasted so much better than I did, and I wanted my turn. I pulled her over me, letting her straddle my face. The aroma of her arousal filled me, and my mouth watered in anticipation as she settled in. I buried my tongue as deeply into her as I could, making her moan and throw her head back. I gazed up along her body, long and lean, modest breasts swelling from her chest, all moving gracefully above me. My eyes closed as I listened to her sigh, and I concentrated on her incredible taste. I held my tongue out flat and let her just grind against it until she came, shaking and trembling against me as she grasped the piece of wood glued to the wall pretending to be a headboard. She slid down, wrapping me in her embrace, and we kissed for a long moment, but I wasn't done. I wanted to explore every inch of her incredible body, and I rolled her onto her back so I could do just that. For the next half hour I just enjoyed her. Her neck, her breasts, her toned abs, the length of her gorgeous, powerful legs, I worshipped every piece of her, committing it to memory. When I finally settled between her legs Mitch let out a contented sigh, visibly relaxing into the bed, giving herself to me. My lover was so high energy, always in motion and vibrant with everyone. I think I was the only person who ever got to see this side of her. I was so humbled that she felt safe to relax into my care, and I desperately wanted to make her happy. If the steady moans from the top of the bed were any indication, I was succeeding, and Mitch pushed her body against my mouth as her orgasm claimed her. I knew she enjoyed looking at me when we made love, so when she stilled I crawled up her body, pulling her left leg up to my chest, draping my right over

her hip and pressing my pussy to hers. I was on my knees, rising above her as we found our rhythm, and Mitch's blue eyes were wide, drinking me in. Our fingers intertwined as I moved, and the intense desire for me radiating from my partner's gaze was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. Somehow our orgasms arrived together, and I collapsed into her arms as we kissed and held each other as close two people could. We made love until after midnight, cuddling and resting in between sessions, but then going again as soon as we recovered our strength. I never wanted it to end, but eventually it did, and for the last time for months I slipped into dreamland safe in Mitch's arms. Part Four Carl picked us up at ten the next morning, driving us back to his condo where Mitch threw her bags into her truck. Carl and Bridget went inside to give us some privacy. I'd managed to keep it together while we'd been packing up, but as soon as she pulled me into her arms I started to cry. Mitch let me go for a few moments, stroking my hair as she held me. "Sweetie, hey, it's okay." She pulled away slightly, smiling and looking me in the eye before brushing a tear from my cheek. "It's not like I'm going to war. We'll be together again in just a few months." I could hear the emotion in her voice, how she was trying to be the strong one. "I know." I forced myself to smile, and she pulled me close, rocking me gently. "And when we do we'll have a big bed, and I'll have a kitchen to cook for you, it's going to be wonderful." I sniffled and let her hold me for another long moment, before she kissed my temple. "I love you, Cindy." "I love you, too. I love you so much." I forced a smile. "Don't forget me." Mitch grinned and kissed me. "People don't forget the love of their lives." I let what she'd said sink in as she kissed me again, and let the truth of it surround me. It was probably somewhat naïve to assume you'd be with your college sweetheart forever, but in that moment I knew I would be. And that calmed me somewhat. What was three months in the face of a lifetime?

That didn't fully stop the tears, but I was able to keep a smile as I waved goodbye, watching her drive down the street and around the corner. *** Despite any epiphanies I may have had in my brother's driveway, what followed were the longest three months of my life. I worked at the diner, I saw some of my old high school friends, and I hid. My mother was seemingly terrified of me becoming an old maid, always assaulting me with the latest gossip about who was available in our small town. And apparently she'd been shopping me around, too, as I was asked on no fewer than three dates in the first two days. The easiest thing would have been just to say I was seeing someone, but Mom would have demanded details, and I was scared to put her on that trail. Dad treated me with his normal polite disinterest. He knew Mom was doing her best to get me respectably married off, and that was good enough for him. Any talk about how well my team had done was met with a dismissive "That's fine, Cindy." I talked and texted with Carrie often, but less so with Mitch, just because of my fear. I hated talking to her when my parents were home, which was most of the time, and I definitely couldn't talk freely with Charlotte around. She was eleven, and in full 'snooping little sister' mode. But I did remember how Carl had helped me, so I decided to do as much as I could for her. Which, when you're a preteen, means taking you places. I'd drive her to friend's houses, the community pool, the local ice cream parlor, etc. I let her talk about her school. She was just starting to be aware of the opposite sex, and she asked me a lot about what college boys were like. I knew she wasn't going to get any useful information from our parents, so I tried to give her some solid advice that went beyond 'just don't do it'. I thought about telling Tiwana, but she had gotten a summer job at one of the resorts on the coast, and I barely got to see her. Even that would have been scary, though. There are wonderful things about small towns, but there are some real downsides, too, the main one being that everyone knows everyone, and everyone is always aware of everyone else's business. What I really hated was the fear. The constant, ever present anxiety that someone was going to find out I was a lesbian, and that the information would inexorably make it's way to my parents' ears. And what really bothered me was

the wrongness of it all. I'd been taught since birth that homosexuality was wrong, immoral, against God's plan, and all that. And it had all been bullshit. There was nothing more right than being with Michelle, loving and being loved by her. What had been wrong was trying to make relationships with guys I didn't love work, forcing myself to be intimate with men I had no desire for. God had made me exactly who I am, and He'd gifted me with a wonderful partner, who loved and supported me, who made me feel alive and vibrant in ways I hadn't known were possible. I was with someone incredible, but I would be reviled, vilified and rejected just because of her gender, with no regard at all to how amazing she was. I wanted to scream at the unfairness of it. One of my former classmates got married in June. We hadn't been close, but our parents knew each other so we went to the wedding and the little cake and punch reception afterwards. I had tears in my eyes as I watched Abigail's father walk her down the aisle. My mother had completely misread my feelings, patting me on the arm, stating "Don't worry, sweetheart, it'll happen. Y'know, there'll be plenty of nice young men at the reception." Obviously that hadn't been my issue. It was that my father would never walk me down the aisle. My mother would never beam proudly as I posed in my wedding dress. They would do everything in their power to make me feel shame in my choice of partner, caring nothing about how happy I was, interested only in how my unnaturalness made them appear to our small town society. I looked around the hundred and fifty or so people in the packed church, and wondered who else was hiding. Who was in a loveless marriage that they felt they had to keep up? Who'd been silently forced to give up their great loves to fit in to our bigoted, small-minded society? Luckily there wasn't any dancing at the reception, but I still had several potential suitors chat me up. I smiled and made polite conversation, interjecting often how adverse I was to starting any summer romances before returning to campus. It was Pride Month, and I didn't see a single rainbow flag in my town, which didn't surprise me at all. The news covered the parades in Atlanta, and Bridget sent me some pictures of a rally from downtown Savannah. My father

would stoically roll his eyes when anyone would mention it, muttering under his breath about the degrading of our country's values. July arrived and passed in much the same manner, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the calendar finally turned to August, so I could start counting the days instead of weeks and months. I know you're probably waiting for something dramatic to happen, but it never did. I did make the change to take my dad off of my accounts. I didn't hide it from him, but he didn't complain. And as soon as I had the money transferred I felt a huge wave of relief. Other than my dad still carrying me on his insurance and the family phone plan, I was completely financially independent. The weekend before I was headed back to campus Carl came and picked me up, and as we pulled up to his condo I saw a blue truck sitting in his driveway. "Surprise." Carl was grinning ear to ear, but my eyes were locked on the tall, dark-haired woman leaning against that truck, my smile stretching my cheeks as tears rolled down my face. I unbuckled my seatbelt, almost jumping out of my brother's car before it stopped. Mitch was beaming, wearing that radiant grin of hers below her glorious blue eyes, and I threw myself into her arms, wrapping my legs around her waist as she twirled me around, whispering into my ear. "God, I missed you, baby. Oh, I love you." I slid my legs down so I was standing on my own two feet, holding tight to her. "I can't do that again. I can't be away from you like that again." "I know. Next summer, we'll find a way. Promise." She brushed a tear from my cheek with her thumb and kissed me, and I whimpered in joy as our lips made contact for the first time in nearly three months. Suddenly I was whole again, and the world seemed to light up even as my eyes stayed closed. Eventually we separated, and I giggled in response to the mischievous Mitch grin I was staring at. "Hi." "Hello. I missed you." I felt the knots created by the summer unwinding as she held me. "Did you miss me?" I looked up through my lashes at her, seeing the emotion raging in her eyes, even as she smirked at me.

"Sometimes." She kissed me on the forehead. "Most of the time." A kiss on the cheek. "Every second." She brushed the hair away from my face, and pressed her lips to mine. This kiss was less desperate, and I was able to enjoy it more, our tongues caressing each other as I savored her soft lips. When it ended I just leaned against her and let her hold me, taking in the smell of her, the feel of her breath in my hair. I was home, safe and loved, here in Mitch's arms. "Hey, you two, we're going to order pizza. If you want any say in the toppings, come inside soon." Carl was smirking at us from the front patio, and I turned towards him without taking my arms from around Mitch's neck. "Okay, go on." Mitch gave me another kiss. "We should go in. Don't want them ordering a bunch of rabbit pizzas." "Rabbit pizzas?" We started walking toward the front door, arms still around each other. "Yeah, y'know, pizza with rabbit food on it. Like onions and green peppers." "I love green peppers." "God, I'm in love with a heathen." I laughed and tightened my arm around her waist and we went inside. *** Two nights later we were in our apartment, lying pressed together in our new bed, sharing soft kisses as our heart rates tried to return to normal. I nuzzled into Mitch's shoulder. "Mmm, I missed that." "You're not the only one. I've fallen asleep every night thinking about it." "Really, little old me?" She pulled me close, nuzzling into my hair. "Yeah, you. The way you smell, what it feels like to touch your skin." Her hands ran down my back and over my backside, making me sigh. "The adorable sounds you make. But mostly just being near you, holding you. I missed it every second." Her long arms let her trace a finger through my sex from behind, making me gasp and move closer, which, of

course, let her go deeper as she kissed my neck. I was just starting to relax into it when she stopped. "But seriously, fall break, you're coming home with me." "You brat!" I slapped her shoulder. "You have to tell me that now?" "Well, I have to tell you sometime. I've spent the last two summers talking about you. Mom and Dad will string me up without a proper introduction soon." I giggled. "Mitch, I've met your parents." It was true. They'd been to a few of our matches, especially the ones in Florida. Her dad was, well, let's just say Mitch came by her bombastic personality honestly. Her mom was quiet, always smiling, the kind of woman you're just sure gives the best hugs. I hadn't got to experience one, as we aren't supposed to go up into the stands on the road. They'd been very friendly to me in our brief interactions, but I'll admit I was nervous about spending more significant time with them. Mitch turned on her side facing me. "They really want to spend some time spoiling you." "Spoiling me?" "Yeah. Mom'll feed you and buy you stuff, and Dad, well, Dad will let her." I pouted my lips, letting my voice slip back into childhood. "What if they don't like me? What if I'm not good enough for their little girl?" Mitch laughed. "Cindy, have you seen you? Or met you? You are not the one marrying up here." I couldn't help my grin. "Marrying?" Mitch was just wearing that confident little smirk. "Well, maybe someday. If you're good." I ran a finger down her sternum. "You're the one who wants to marry up. Shouldn't you be good?" "Well, shucks," Mitch rolled me onto my back, "I think you might be right." She began to kiss down my body, and I relaxed back into my new bedding as the woman I loved took me to heaven over and over. ***

I was floating as Mitch held me, my whole body buzzing at the intensity of what I'd been experiencing for the last two hours. Mitch's arm was around me, holding my breast as her thumb gently tracing one of my nipples. It felt lovely. "Cindy?" "Hmm?" "I did want to ask you something, see if you wanted to try something." "Mm, I don't think I could try anything else tonight." She kissed the back of my head. "Not for tonight. Wait here." Mitch climbed out of bed and walked out into our living room. I propped myself up on my elbow so I could watch her impressive figure move. She came back into our bedroom carrying her laptop, climbing under the sheets but sitting up against the headboard. "What are we looking at?" "This." She clicked on a link, which brought up a group of pictures of women wearing, well, something. "Mitch, what is that?" Her voice was unsure, very unlike her. "It's a strap-on." I almost asked what it was for, but that was blindingly obvious. "You want to use that on me?" Mitch answered quickly, putting her hand on mine. "Only if you want me to." "Mitch, I'm not sure." The pain of being with Ethan swam back up into my consciousness. Mitch could obviously see it in my face, and her face was the picture of concern. She kissed the back of my hand. "Cindy, when you were telling me about Ethan, about, y'know, well, I had so many fantasies of taking you with one of these, showing you how it's supposed to feel." "What if it hurts?" My voice cracked a little as I spoke. "Then we stop. But I don't think it will." I still wasn't sure, so she continued. "Cindy, do you like it when I put my fingers inside of you?" The memory pushed away the fear, and I blushed. "Yeah. I love it."

"And when Ethan did?" I breathed out and shook my head. "He didn't do it often. But, no." "See what I'm getting at? I really think you'd like this, but it's your decision." "Have you ever used one before?" Mitch shook her head. "Nope. But I'm a quick learner. Unless it's math." "Ha. Okay. I trust you." We spent the next half an hour looking at the various options, comparing prices and reading reviews, until we finally settled on one that didn't look like a molded penis. It had two interchangeable sizes with a lot of texture on the phallus. Mitch hit the 'order' button, and it was on its way. Luckily I had things to distract me before it got here. On Monday we went shopping for groceries and other things we needed for the apartment. It's amazing how many little doodads you need in a real place. A shower curtain, a bathmat, dish towels, toilet paper, the list goes on and on. In all we dropped over two hundred dollars on food and sundries. Carrie got in Tuesday morning, immediately heading over to check out our new digs, and we spent the afternoon watching the U.S. Open. Thanks to Mitch springing for Tennis Channel Plus we were able to stream any match we wanted to the T.V., which meant we spent over an hour watching Iryna Baraskova's first round match. Carrie wouldn't let us change the channel. She was absolutely transfixed. I guess we understand why now. At the time I scowled at Mitch when she gave me a knowing look. I hate that she's always right about those things. Barbara, the Freshman I'd mentored some last year, Carrie, and I were all having lunch on Friday, while I kept checking the line for Mitch. Eventually I saw her, and she gave me a kiss before sitting down with her tray. Barbara set her fork down. "So what's everyone doing tonight?" Carrie shrugged. "Should be some good welcome back parties. You guys in?"

Mitch shook her head emphatically. "Nope. We have plans." I looked at her in consternation. "We do?" "Yep." Mitch held out her phone to me, which was showing two notifications. One from UPS that our package had been delivered, and one from our building saying they were holding a package at the front desk. An electric thrill ran through my body, my cheeks suddenly burning crimson. "Oh, yeah, our plans, yep." Oh, it was getting hard to breathe. Barbara was incredulous. "Seriously? You two haven't broken in your apartment enough already?" Mitch just flashed that self-satisfied smile. "Tonight's special. Or it will be." Her foot hooked around the back of my leg, making my blush deepen. "But you're all welcome over tomorrow afternoon to watch the Open. I'm making a blooming onion." As soon as Mitch's last class was over we headed home, and the receptionist in the office handed over a small, nondescript brown box when we asked. Mitch just smirked at me as we walked hand in hand up to our apartment. My mind was racing. What was going to happen when we closed the door? Was she just going to take me? Most of the time I didn't mind that, but today I was really nervous. Mitch could usually tell what I needed, though, and today was no exception. I closed and locked the door behind us as she set the package down on the counter. She closed the distance between us and kissed me deeply, my nervousness flowing away like it always did when we touched, and my body began to respond. "You hungry, baby?" I nodded. I'd just picked at my lunch after realizing what was waiting for me back at the apartment. "Okay, I'll make some dinner. Go relax." We shared another quick smooch, and Mitch headed into the kitchen and pulled out a large pot, beginning to fill it with water. My eyes found the package, still sitting benignly on the counter. I gingerly picked it up, like it might contain a bomb or a live cobra. I turned it around in my hands, but barring the spontaneous development of X-ray vision I wasn't going to be able to see anything unless I opened the silly thing.

I took it over to the couch, using my keys to slit open the tape. I glanced up at Mitch, who was happily working away in the kitchen, before pulling the blue and purple package out of the box. It was surprisingly light, just in a blister pack. The two phalluses, both a light blue, were prominently displayed. One was eight inches long and thick, while the other was two inches shorter and more slight. The actual straps were black, with an O-ring in the front where the phalluses slipped through. It was definitely my mathematical mind trying to distract me here. If I could figure out exactly how the thing worked maybe it would scare me less. "So what do you think?" I jumped at Mitch's voice, before laughing at her amused expression. I ran my finger over the plastic still covering the larger phallus. "It's big." "I think you can handle it." She nodded towards the stove. "I've got spaghetti on the stove and sauce simmering with the meatballs. Gotta carboload for tonight." She popped her eyebrows at me. I answered, trying to be playful, but it came out more scared. "You'll be gentle, right?" "Of course. And if you say stop, we'll stop. Promise me you'll say to stop if you want to. Don't suffer through for me. Remember, my fantasy is about you loving this, so if you don't it won't be any good for me, either." Her brilliant blue eyes bored into mine and I nodded. She went back into the kitchen, and I split open the package plastic, pulling out our new toy. The feel of the soft but firm plastic was similar to what I remembered of the real thing, but at the same time it wasn't going to fool anyone. I took a deep breath. This was one of Mitch's fantasies, and I wanted to give it to her. And maybe she was right, maybe it would be different. Everything else was. We had a lovely dinner. You can really improve the flavor of even frozen meatballs by simmering them in the sauce instead of just baking them, according to Mitch, anyway. She also lit candles, which hadn't been allowed in the dorms. The whole apartment smelled amazing. Scheduled sex tends not to be romantic. It's even worse when you're nervous about the whole thing to start with. But Mitch was a magician. We cleaned up after dinner without even mentioning our new toy. I stood at the sink

and washed while Mitch dried and put away, and every time she passed by she'd touch me. A hand on the waist, fingers on my shoulders, and every little contact made me more and more aware of her physical presence. After we finished I thought sure she was going to lead me back to the bedroom, but she didn't. Instead we cuddled on the couch watching the night session from New York, talking tennis, and then not talking and just holding. And then came gentle kisses, sweet nuzzles, and soft caresses before Mitch stood and guided me to my feet. I was so lost in her that I barely noticed her scoop the strap on up as we headed to our room. We stood at the edge of the bed, slowly undressing each other, and when I was nude Mitch guided me into the center of the mattress. She set her new accoutrement at the edge of the bed and crawled over me, finding my mouth with hers and kissing me deeply. Any anxiety I was still feeling was rapidly dribbling away as Mitch moved her lips to my ears and then down my neck. She spent some time on my breasts before moving further south, and I was fully wet and aroused by the time she took my sex into her mouth. We'd done exactly this a hundred times before, which I knew was precisely what Mitch was going for, trying to put me totally at ease. And as my first orgasm rolled over me, I'd say she succeeded. She took me almost all the way back to the promised land a second time before she kissed my inner thighs and turned me onto my stomach. This was different, and I gasped as Mitch began to kiss down my spine. She worked slowly, caressing my bottom as she headed further south. Mitch rose up and grasped my hips. "Get up on your knees, baby. Let me see that beautiful butt of yours." I obeyed, sticking my backside wantonly into the air. As soon as I did Mitch slid her hand between my legs, caressing my sex from front to back before pushing two fingers deep inside me. I moaned into the pillow. It was perfect, and in and out she went. I felt wanton and primal, offering myself to my mate. "Don't move." I felt her weight leave the bed, and I could hear her working the metal clasps on the strap on. Moments later she was kneeling behind me. The length of the phallus slid between my legs and glided against the dripping wetness of my sex, followed again by Mitch's fingers. She was using my own nectar to lube

it up, and my hands gripped the edge of the mattress as I prepared for what was coming. I felt the tip press against my opening. "Ready?" "Uh-huh." Mitch's hands tightened on my hips and she pushed inside me. "Ohhh my god!" It felt amazing, completely different from anything I'd experienced before. Mitch pulled out and drove in again, deeper this time, and I pushed my hips back to increase the penetration. My lover began a steady rhythm, and I could feel her thighs touch mine with every thrust as the texture of the phallus played over the sensitive skin of my entrance. Every time the blue length drove in it hit a spot deep inside me that sent pleasure streaming from my pussy out into my limbs, all the way to my fingers and toes. I pushed myself up onto my elbows, bettering the angle, and we settled into a steady rhythm that set my whole body vibrating with pleasure. "Is that good, baby?" "Uh-huh." I somehow managed to squeak the words. "Don't stop, please." "Oh, I won't. Promise." The confident husk in her voice sent a thrill up my spine, and I settled back into the glorious rhythm she was setting. I could hear the wet sounds of Mitch's penetration, something I'd never experienced before. And the building, thrumming pleasure, notching up with each blessed stroke, was beyond heady. I have no idea how long we'd been going when Mitch leaned forward. I was just starting to worry that I wasn't going to get there before one of us tired, remembering statistics I'd read of how few women could orgasm from penetration alone. "Do you want to come, sweetheart?" Oh, god, yes, I needed to come. I was desperate for it. "Oh, please." Her hand slipped around my leg, over my lower abdomen, through the downy blonde hair on my mons and over my clit. I groaned, wanton and lustful as my orgasm went from questionable to inevitable, and my muscles coiled in preparation for release. And suddenly, after

several more exquisite moments, the dam broke and I howled into the night as I pulsed and spasmed around the still stroking length inside me. She slowed as I began to come down, the phallus slipping out of me as I collapsed onto the bed. I rolled over, holding out my shaking arms. She covered me, kissing me deeply before pulling away. "Good?" "Yes." I nodded, wrapping my legs around her waist. I reached down between us, grasping the length still attached to Mitch's lower torso and guiding it inside me. "More?" "So much more." She began stroking again, filling me beautifully as she hovered above me. I rocked my hips up with every stroke, and it felt wonderful, but what was really wonderful were her eyes. She stared into mine with such incredible passion and intensity. I have no idea how simple, boring me could inspire that kind level of feeling in someone as incredible as Michelle Kirkpatrick. But I did, and it was all in her eyes. I wasn't always the quickest to pick up on other people's feelings, but I couldn't deny what I was seeing. She wanted nothing more than to be close to me, to make me happy and give me pleasure. And my heart broke with love for her. She kissed me, and I sank into the feeling. I belonged completely to her, and I wanted just this, forever. When my next orgasm found me it was more soul than body, as I moaned in cadence with the pleasure. It was the most intense, whole being experience of my life, and when it passed I was just desperate to be held close by the woman I loved. She slipped out of me, and for a horrible moment she wasn't touching me as she divested herself of our new toy. I whined pathetically as I reached for her. She had it off in a jiff, though, and moments later she was pulling me into her embrace. My head rested on her strong bicep as her other arm circled my waist. She threw her leg over me and I was completely wrapped up in her, blissfully and deliriously happy. "Was that good?" Mitch asked. "Mm-hm. So good. I love you." "Oh, baby, I love you, too."

"We can do that again, right?" Mitch laughed. "As much as you want. But it's time for bed, isn't it?" "Mm, yeah." We slid off the bed so we could turn down the sheets, and when I climbed in Mitch sat on the edge of the bed. "You need anything?" I shook my head. "No. Just cuddles." I reached out to her, smiling in that innocent, girlish way that I knew made Mitch crazy. It had the desired effect, as my lover slid into bed with alacrity, kissing me deeply and pulling me close. I lay my head on her chest, falling asleep listening to the soft sound of her breathing and the steady, powerful beat of her heart. *** The cuddles lasted straight through 'til morning, and I woke up still wrapped up in Mitch's arms. She was awake already, her fingers running up and down my skin under the covers. "Morning, sleepyhead." I grinned at her and stretched under the sheets. "Mmm, so comfy." I pressed myself back against her. "Tired. Some chick wore me out last night." She tickled my side. "You loved it." I giggled. "Yeah. A little sore this morning though. It's been awhile. A good sore, though." "You sure? Did I go too hard, or too long?" "Oh, no such thing. It is weird though. I remember feeling like this, y'know, before, but this is different. This makes me happy." "Well, it's partially because I'm amazing." She was grinning that big Mitch grin, which made me laugh. "You brat." She put her arms around me and settled back into her pillow. "Jimmy asked me one time if lesbians don't like dick why do they like strap-ons." "Seriously?" "Well, he was cruder about it, but yeah."

"What'd you say?" "I asked him if he liked getting blow jobs. When he said he did I asked if it mattered to him if the person giving him one was a guy or a girl. I mean, it would feel good either way." That made me laugh, but the implication wasn't lost on me. Last night had proven there had never been anything wrong with me. I was just gay, and when my gorgeous butch girlfriend took me, I could enjoy it every bit as much as any straight girl could enjoy their boyfriend. Probably more, seeing how long it had lasted. And trying to replicate that feeling with any guy would, for me, be completely pointless. *** As the semester really got going I just loved what was happening. Mitch and I would drive into campus every morning and head home after our evening workouts. Mitch would cook a few nights a week, and we ate dinner at our little table almost like grownups. I helped when I could, but Mitch seemed determined to win my heart through my stomach. I didn't have any desire to tell her the deed was already done. I can't tell you how many fantasies I had that this was my life, that we had graduated, and were adults working, married to each other. That I was going to have Mitch by my side, holding me every night, loving me every day, for the rest of my life. The very thought would bring a tear to my eye. I also didn't see how it was possible. I knew, without question, that my parents wouldn't allow it. It seems almost silly looking back on everything now, but walking away from my parents, from my family, had never occurred to me. Being disowned, however, that had presented itself to my imagination many times, and it terrified me. I'd been Aaron and Valerie Spencer's daughter my entire existence. It'd been the defining reality of my life since the day I was born. What was I without it? Still, those questions didn't need answers immediately, as graduation and the onset of real life still seemed an eternity away. We had people over on a regular basis, which Mitch always made fun. I remembered company being a super stressful experience growing up, like Mom's entire self worth was being judged, mostly by my dad. But being with Mitch, I finally understood that having people over wasn't about showing off, (well maybe just a little, but in a fun way), it was about

spending time with people you cared about and having fun. The first time we had Carrie and her boyfriend du jour over I'd been frantically cleaning the bathroom while Mitch was in the kitchen, singing to herself. I was furious at her. Didn't she know how important this was? I was scrubbing the slightly discolored toilet, which had been that way when we moved in, when Mitch appeared behind me and lifted me to my feet. There were tears in my eyes, but Mitch just held me to her. "Baby. It doesn't have to be perfect. They're not coming to see our bathroom." "I don't want them to think we're pigs." "We aren't. Have you seen Carrie's dorm room?" That made me smile. She wasn't a slob, but Carrie wasn't the most orderly person on earth, either. Mitch tightened her arms around me and rested her chin on my shoulder. "You okay?" I turned in her arms and let a few sobs slip free as she held me. "Do you want me to call them and cancel?" I shook my head. "No, you worked so hard on dinner." "Are you sure?" I nodded, forcing a smile and giving Mitch a little kiss. I knew I wasn't fooling her, but she let it drop. I managed to have a good time, and Mitch didn't bring it up again until they were gone, and we were snuggled in bed. "You want to tell me what that was about before?" Mitch was holding me from behind, big-spooning me and whispering in my ear. "It's just, um," I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth and safety of my lover. "It's hard. Company coming, it was stressful." "Really? Why? It's supposed to be fun, y'know." I smiled. "I know." I steeled myself, and I think Mitch was going to let it go, but I wanted to tell her, so I opened a dark closet in my mind. "One time, when I was nine or so, we had Pastor Greaver and his wife over, and Mom overcooked the roast, and it was a little dry. Our guests were both complimentary, and grateful, and I didn't think it was a big deal until they left.

"We kids were sent off to bed, but I came out for a glass of water to keep on my bed stand. I listened as my father scolded my mother. He said the meat was unacceptable, how disappointed he was in her, and he asked her how he was supposed to be respected in the church if he couldn't bring the pastor home for a decent meal. He just kept saying these horrible things in this cold, vicious voice. She was in tears, saying how sorry she was, begging for forgiveness. "He just left her there, crying in the kitchen, cleaning up. I so badly wanted to go help her, but I didn't know what Dad would have done if I had, so I slunk back to my room like a coward. After that I was terrified anytime anyone came over. I'd always do everything I could to help, but I could always see how scared Mom was." "Oh, Cindy." I let the tears come as Mitch held me close and kissed the back of my head. "Cindy, you know I would never treat you like that, right?" I nodded, and Mitch continued to whisper to me. "Real love isn't like that. What your dad did, that was abuse. Making someone earn love is abusive, plain and simple. I love you to the moon and back, and you never, ever have to earn it. It's yours, just because you're you. Okay?" I turned in her embrace, tears streaming as my heart broke with love for the woman holding me. Her love was a perfect gift, one I still felt I didn't fully deserve. Was it because I felt I hadn't earned it? I'd always had to earn my dad's love, or at least his approval. That was the only thing I knew how to do. But here it was. A gift, if I could just accept it. And Mitch was right, that's how love was supposed to be. I'd never make her earn my love. It was hers, and her love was mine, which meant I could let myself just belong in her arms. *** I got an object lesson of exactly how a family was supposed to treat one another over fall break. I actually blew off my last class on Thursday so we could leave for her parent's house at lunchtime. When I'd Googled directions it said the trip would take about seven and a half hours for the drive, but Mitch's bombastic personality extended to her driving, and we got there before seven. When we pulled into the driveway her mom and dad were waiting on the porch. There were definitely butterflies swirling around in my stomach. Would they like me? What would I need to do to win their approval?

Mitch hopped out of her truck and opened her arms as her mom gave her a big hug. "Oh, sweetheart, it's so good to see you." "Hi, Mom." I quietly opened my door and climbed out, standing silently on the other side of the truck. As Mitch and her mom talked. Her mom stood back and looked her daughter over. "It looks like they're feeding you okay." "Yeah. Five pounds of muscle. Check it out." Mitch flexed her impressively toned arm, making her mom laugh and slap her shoulder playfully. "Oh, Michelle. Go hug your father. He misses you." Mitch jumped to obey, and her mom fixed her kind gaze on me, holding out her arms as she walked around Mitch's truck. "Oh Cindy, it's good to see you." "Hi, Mrs. Kirkpatrick. Thanks for having me." "Oh, pish. It's an honor. And I'm Stacy." The blush I was already wearing deepened as she wrapped me in her embrace. When she let me go Mitch and her dad were digging our bags out of the back. Mrs. Kirkpatrick linked her arm in mine. "I hope you're hungry. I made homemade pizza. It's Michelle's favorite." "I'm starving. Mit, ah, Michelle has told me so many amazing stories about your cooking." "Oh, you're sweet." She led me inside to an informally set table and the amazing aroma of garlic and oregano. Her dad dished up slices of the rectangular pie, all while holding a spirited debate with his daughter about the Saturday's Florida-Georgia football game. It was a little weird hearing my girlfriend exclusively referred to as Michelle, but she fit here. And her parents were unerringly kind to me. Her father, who insisted I call him Jack, looked across the table at me, pointing towards his daughter. "I can't believe I raised a damn traitor, Cindy. She grew up on Gator football."

"Hey! Cindy's a Bulldogs fan, too!" "She's from Georgia, Michelle. That's understandable. You though," he shook his head. I smiled and leaned over to Stacy. "Are they going to be okay watching the game together Saturday?" "Oh, sweetie, they're always like this. They love it. He was just miserable when she went away to college." They continued their spirited debate throughout dinner and into the kitchen as they cleaned up after the meal. Stacy led me into their living room, sitting down next to me on the sofa, holding my hand in both of hers. "Now, tell me all about how you two met." I grinned and told the story, listening to the easy banter and laughter coming from the kitchen. "So she's a good girlfriend? Makes you happy?" "She's the best. Always smiling and making me laugh. I get too intense sometimes; she reminds me life isn't all about Tennis and studying." "I wished she'd studied a little more in High School, sometimes." "She's working hard now. You'd be proud of her." "I am, but I don't think I'm the one she wants to make proud." "Her dad?" Stacy laughed. "No, silly." She put her hand on my knee and shook it. "You. When you first met, all she could talk about was how smart her new friend was. That, and how pretty she was. She wants you to be proud of her." I blushed, not able to think of anything to say. "Now, we're going out for a nice dinner Saturday night. Did you bring anything nice to wear?" I grimaced. "Not really. Michelle didn't say anything about it." She patted my leg, looking absolutely gleeful. "That's okay, dear. We'll go shopping Saturday morning. My treat."

I heard the sound of the dishwasher start, and Mitch and her dad made their way into their family room, turning on the Thursday night NFL game. Stacy and I joined them, and I sat next to my girlfriend, who put her arm around me as I leaned against her. Her mom worked on a knitting project in her chair, and I just took in the happiness of this family being together, and I wished, someday, that I could be a part of something like this. "Your parents are really going to let us stay together?" I was changing for bed in Mitch's room as she did the same. "Yeah, sure. We share a bed every night at school. What's the difference?" "There'd be a difference to my parents." "My parents are pretty cool. I mean, they adapted to the whole butch lesbian thing, so I think they can handle me cuddling through the night with my girlfriend." I laughed and we climbed between the sheets, sharing a few soft goodnight kisses before I settled in as the little spoon. "Your parents are great though." "Yeah. I got lucky." "Your mom wants to take me shopping Saturday." "I thought she might." *** The next day Mitch took me around to all of her old stomping grounds. We hit some balls on the courts where her dad had taught her to play, and had lunch at her favorite ice cream parlor. It wasn't the healthiest lunch. At two thirty we arrived at her old High School, just before dismissal. She stopped into half a dozen rooms, always receiving the same exuberant response from the teachers inside. She proudly introduced me as her girlfriend each time, and I got to hear several great stories about a younger, less inhibited Mitch Kirkpatrick, if you can believe that. The last room we stopped by was her old coach's office. He took his glasses off as she knocked on his open door. "Michelle! What a surprise." The older man stood and walked around his desk and gave Mitch a hug. "I've been watching you, young lady. You've gotten much better."

"Thanks, coach. It's all her fault. Coach Brenneman, this is my doubles partner, and my girlfriend, Cindy Spencer." He shook my hand and we all sat. Looking around the room I saw multiple pictures of young women on his wall, wearing various division one college uniforms. Sure enough just over his right shoulder was a picture of Mitch preparing to receive a serve, wearing her black shorts and red polo embroidered with the Georgia 'G'. "So I made the Wall of Fame, huh?" "Of course, you've made me very proud. And I've seen you, too, young lady," he nodded toward me, "you're quite a player, too. I didn't know you were seeing each other, though. Must be why you move so well together on the court." I blushed. "Thanks." "She's taught me a lot, coach." "Yeah, likely the same things I tried to teach you for four years. Maybe I just wasn't pretty enough." He shot her a half smile, now it was Mitch's turn to blush. There was a knock on the door, and Mitch turned around, seeing a diminutive woman in a nice suit with bobbed brown hair and big glasses. "Principal Solomon!" Mitch jumped and shook the small woman's hand. "I heard a certain Wall-of-Famer was wandering about the halls. Thought I might find you here. Just wanted to be sure I got a chance to say hello. And to meet the lucky lady you've been showing around." *** As we drove away I was shocked. "You really were popular." "What can I say? People love me." "And no one was surprised with you having a girlfriend." "My sexuality hasn't been a secret since middle school. Actually, it's never been a secret. Soon as I knew, so did everybody else. And what did Principal Solomon say to you when Coach and I were talking?" I reached out and took Mitch's hand. "That I was a very lucky young lady."

"Well, that was obvious." Mitch flashed that playfully wicked smile of hers, and I laughed, feeling the warmth of her radiating up from our handclasp. *** "So where are we going tonight?" Mrs. Kirkpatrick smiled as we walked down the street at Hyde Park Village. "It's called 'The Black Pearl.' It's fancy, a little pretentious, but it's very good. Jack made reservations over a month ago. He wants to impress you, I think." "What do you wear?" "Not jeans. Jack'll wear a tie, I usually wear a dress. We eat there sometimes when we go to the theater, or for our anniversary." "It'll be new for me. I've never been anywhere fancy like that." I shook my head. "My family's idea of fine dining was Applebee's." "Michelle said they were very conservative." "Ha. That's putting it mildly." "I take it they don't know about you and my daughter." I shook my head. "I'm not lucky like Mitch, I mean Michelle." "It wasn't easy for me, I'll admit it. Not that I didn't have a clue, of course, but I didn't want it to be true, so I ignored all the signs. Eventually she'll discover makeup and dresses. I told myself, a lot of girls are tomboys when they're little." I giggled for a moment before covering my mouth. "I'm sorry. Just the thought of your daughter in heels and makeup." She covered her mouth, and we laughed together for a moment. Eventually I regained my composure. "Okay, I guess I need a dress, then." We went to a few different stores. Nice ones, at least a lot nicer than any other store at which I'd ever actually bought anything. Stacy took pictures of anything I liked, and as we left the second store I'd tried almost a dozen different dresses, with a few definite possibilities. I couldn't help the grin on my face. "This is fun, I've never done anything like this."

"Didn't your mom at least take you shopping for a prom dress?" "My Junior prom I wore a cotton summer dress like I'd wear to church. For Senior year we went to one store and mom picked something out. Ankle length, high neckline with half sleeves." I indicated where it had sat, above my collarbone and down to my elbows. "Seriously?" "Everything had to meet Dad's approval. If it didn't, it went back. And if you couldn't take it back, man, he'd be upset. It's hard to find women's shorts that come down past your fingertips. " "But he let you play tennis." "My coach in high school actually ordered me extra long skirts for my uniform. Luckily they had them, or my mom would have had to make them herself." "Well, if you're game, we can go a little more daring today." She nudged me with her shoulder, and we both giggled as we strode down the sidewalk.. I liked the next store the best, and we had it narrowed down to a green high low beauty with a sweetheart neckline under a high necked lace bodice, and an elegant, but much more daring, front twist chiffon maxi. It was a muted pink, and it really popped with my blonde hair, but it would definitely be the most daring thing I'd ever worn. There was a fancy bow in the back, and a slit in the side clean up to my hip, as Reba would say. The bra was built in, and the skirt was just barely translucent so you could just make out the shape of my legs underneath the material if the light was right. "I really think that's the one, Cindy." The salesgirl nodded in agreement, and I twirled one more time in the mirror. "Yeah. I like it. It's not too much?" Mrs. Kirkpatrick just smiled at me. "Cindy, it's perfect. You look beautiful." "Okay. Let's do it." It didn't end there, we needed shoes, and I ended up with a gladiator style two inch heel, which I loved. We walked past a little store that had casual clothes on the mannequins in their window, including several pairs of cute little high-

waisted short shorts that I'd never been allowed to own. Apparently I looked a little too longingly, and Stacy stopped me at the entrance. "You like those?" "Yeah, but I can't. That's exactly what I'd always wanted and could never have. My mother would have a fit, and my dad would disown me." "And if they find out you're dating my daughter?" "Same." She laughed, but honestly I wasn't trying to be funny. "You realize I'm not kidding, right?" "Oh, sweetie." She linked her arm in mine and led me over to a nearby bench. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, I'm having a great time. I just, um," I folded my hands in my lap and looked down. "You wish you were doing this with your mom." "I wish my mom and I had this kind of relationship." "Well, you're an adult now. You get to have a say in what kind of relationship you have." I tried to grin and nod, but she didn't buy it. "Cindy, when Michelle came out, she rejected everything I'd ever wanted for my precious little girl. That was very hard for me, and there was some real distance between us. So, we had to find a new relationship. I suddenly had to care about sports, something I still struggle with, honestly," she giggled. "And she reached out in her own way, and when she did I realized how terrified I'd been of losing her. But the most important thing was that I was able to get to know the real Michelle, my real daughter. And she's pretty amazing. I couldn't be prouder. And someday, maybe your mom will be willing to get to know the real you." I gave her a hug. Stacy gives great hugs. When she pulled away she pulled a Kleenex out of her bag and dabbed at my misty eyes. "So, does the real you want a new pair of shorts?" That made me laugh, and we headed into the store. I came out with two complete outfits, feeling a little naughty, but excited to see what Mitch would think. We had to go back and pick up my dress, which

they'd brought in just a smidge. It fit like a glove, and even without makeup or hair done I couldn't believe what I was seeing in the mirror. We made it back just after the three-thirty kickoff of the Florida-Georgia game, and I cuddled up with Mitch on the couch to watch. I was still learning about the intricacies and traditions, but what I really loved was watching Mitch get all excited. She'd get mad if I ever said it, but she's really cute when that happens. Our reservations were at eight-fifteen, so as soon as the game finished shortly after seven I headed into the master bathroom to get ready. Stacy had graciously gifted me the use of her and Jack's master bath, along with her vanity and mirror. I was grateful, mostly because I wanted to see Mitch's face when I emerged, something that wouldn't be as dramatic if she was able to witness the work in progress. To be honest, I was stunned when I finally saw myself in Stacy's full length mirror. I looked like a woman grown. My mother had given me the basics in how to put on makeup, but blush and mascara had been forbidden. It wasn't tonight, though, and Stacy helped me pick out a dusty rose pink with matching lipstick and just a touch of blush. I didn't look made up, but my face seemed to pop out of the mirror. My hair bounced out of the rollers I'd borrowed, and Stacy helped me put it up into a high ponytail, pinned back over my ears and lengthening my neck. And it was all worth it when I saw Mitch's eyes widen as she took me in. "Oh, Cindy." I swished my dress, baring my toned leg up to my thigh. "Do I look okay?" "Baby, just, wow." I grinned and blushed. Not that I wasn't taking her in as well. She was wearing pinstripe slacks with a matching jacket and a white shirt with the top two buttons undone. It was accentuated with a red, untied bow tie and matching handkerchief in the jacket pocket. Her hair was combed and parted with swept up bangs. She looked so handsome, and I seemed to just float into her arms. Jack insisted on pictures, like we were going to prom or something. When we entered the restaurant I could feel the other patrons' eyes turn towards us. My hand tightened in Mitch's and I whispered to her. "Are they staring at us?"

"No, they're staring at you. You're stunning." I started to protest, but my girlfriend cut me off. "Cindy, you're the most beautiful woman in the room. You'd be the most beautiful woman in almost every room on earth." I blushed and looked down, but her touch gave me strength. "You mean there are some I wouldn't be?" Mitch gave a little chuckle. "Not to me." She leaned down and gave me a little kiss, not caring at all that the entire restaurant was looking at us. My heart swelled with love and pride, and I stood a little taller as I walked to our table. It was by far the nicest restaurant I'd ever been in. The people were dressed elegantly, as were the staff. The waiter didn't even write down our order, just memorizing it. My eyes almost left my skull when I saw the prices. You know it's expensive when they only write down the dollar amounts. I immediately found the least expensive thing on the menu, the Risotto, but Jack insisted that I get whatever I wanted, so I opted for the rack of lamb. I figured what the heck, might as well try something new. It was beautiful with the sauce swooshed around the plate like in cooking shows I'd seen, and the taste was otherworldly. Jack threatened to get the escargot as an appetizer, making me scrunch up my nose and shake my head. I didn't mind trying new things, but there were limits. Luckily Stacy laughed and put her hand on my arm. "Don't worry dear, he doesn't like it either. He just likes to get a rise out of people." I smirked at my girlfriend. "I guess you come by that particular personality trait honestly." Stacy grinned. "They're like clones. It's scary." I could see the twinkle in Stacy's eye, she loved that about her husband, just like I did about her daughter. But we didn't need to let them know that. "Have I told what she did to me the first day we met? She was spotting me on the bench press, just teasing me mercilessly." "I was not! I was being very friendly." Mitch gave me a playfully scolding look. "I was trying to make conversation." Stacy sat back. "Well, I was always told boys only tease girls they like."

"You know, a friend said the same thing, and I've been thinking about it. It's not okay for boys to tease girls, and teaching our daughters they should be proud when a boy belittles them,". I shook my head. "If we ever have a son, we're going to teach him better, Michelle Kirkpatrick. Even if he's just like his grandfather." Jack gave a loud laugh. "That settles it, Michelle. I like her." "Me too, Dad." We took our time with dinner, but it was barely nine thirty when we finished. Stacy was tired, but Jack gave me a wink. "You know, Michelle, it seems almost a waste to get Cindy all dressed up and then only go for dinner." "What are you suggesting, Dad?" He shook his head in disappointment. "Take her dancing, girl. Dancing is the way to a woman"s heart." "Dad, we all drove together." "We'll get a cab. You should go." "Yeah." I looked up into Mitch's lovely blue eyes, remembering the first time we'd danced. "You should take me dancing." I watched the desire to hold me wash over Mitch's face, which made me shiver. "Okay. Let's do it." Jack tossed his daughter the keys, and she handed me into the front seat of his SUV before crossing and climbing into the driver's side. "Do you know where we're going?" "Yeah. There's at least one club I know that admits minors over near USF." Mitch was twenty-one, having had her birthday in September. I wouldn't join her in alcoholic legality until February. "Is it a lesbian club?" "No, but it's pretty welcoming from what I understand. Besides, It'll be dark. I doubt too many people will notice I'm not a guy. They'll all be looking at you anyway." It turns out that Mitch was almost completely correct. We got into the club without any trouble, other than me having to have my hand stamped. Mitch offered to buy me a drink if I wanted one, but I didn't want to mar the evening

by being nervous about breaking the rules, and I really didn't want to get caught and kicked out. We hadn't danced much since we'd gotten together, and as Mitch led me out onto the floor and wrapped me in her arms I vowed I'd have to change that. I massaged the back of her neck with my hand, gazing into her incredible blue eyes as she smiled down at me. I enjoyed the feeling of her strong body pressed against mine, the look of serene happiness on her face as she held me close. We swayed to the music as the world faded away The only reminder was one guy who came up while Mitch and I were sitting one out and asked me to dance. "Sorry, man. She's all mine tonight." The guy positively started. He probably hadn't spared a second glance at Mitch his entire way over. "Dude! You're a chick?" "Yup. You?" I can virtually guarantee no one had ever asked him that before, especially given his bewildered expression. "No!" I stood up. "Then I guess you don't have what I'm looking for. C'mon sweetie," I took Mitch's hand, "let's go dance." We left him there gaping, and I'll admit my heart was beating a little fast, but I refused to look back as we made our way back out onto the floor. "Look at you, Miss Sass." Mitch was grinning at me. "Well, it's true. Like you said, I'm all yours. And not just for tonight." Emotion swam in Mitch's eyes as she searched for an answer, which made me happy. She didn't get tongue-tied often. But eventually she found the perfect comeback. "I love you." It was my turn to tear up. "And I love you." I lay my head on her shoulder as we moved in rhythm, both with the music and each other. "Always." We danced for another half an hour, me never wanting this moment to end. But I was getting tired, and Mitch could tell. "You about ready to go?"

"Yeah. I wish we were back in Athens." "Why?" "So we'd be going back to our apartment, and we could, y'know, do stuff." Mitch had that glint in her eye as she answered. "Cindy, you honestly think I'm going to dance with you all night, while you're wearing that dress, and not make love to you when we get back?" "But your parents will be there!" Mitch shrugged. "They had sex while I was in the house growing up. I reckon turnabout is fair play." I wasn't convinced, and Mitch could tell. "They won't hear us, I promise. C'mon. I'll prove it to you." She took my hand and led me off the floor. The house was dark when we got back, other than the porch light. We both slipped off our shoes when we got inside, although that took a little more doing for me than for Mitch, but we got the job done and made it back to our room with barely a sound. Mitch closed the door behind us, the light of the street filtering in through her window made everything look blue. She took off her jacket and slid her arms around my waist. I leaned back against her, resting in her warmth for a moment. She kissed my neck, sending a shiver through me. "Mitch?" "Yes, my love?" "Help me take my dress off." "Yes, ma'am." Her hands went to the bow in the back and untied it, before sliding down the hidden zipper at the waist. Her hands ran over my hips and up my sides until she reached my shoulders, slipping the thin straps down my arms. I shrugged the material free, letting the dress pool around my feet. I turned back toward Mitch, pulling her to me and kissing her deeply, pressing my now almost nude body against her. Her hands ran over my bare back and up into my hair, easing my head back and to the side so Mitch could suckle my neck.

I moaned and leaned back into her arms, my hands going to her waist, feeling the curve of her hips and pulling her shirt free from her slacks. Her lips went to my ear, whispering softly. "You're going to have to unbutton it to get it off, babe." "Okay." I slid my hand up over her firm, flat stomach and modest breasts, reaching the top fastened button and undoing it. I kissed the skin I exposed, earning a sigh. I went down the line, button by button until her top opened and I pushed it over her shoulders and onto the floor. Her arms went over her head, and I stripped off the black sports bra she was wearing, hungrily taking one of her firm nipples into my mouth. "Oh, Cindy, that's so nice. Mmm." Buoyed by Mitch's sighs I kept at it, going from side to side, reveling in the softness of her breasts, overlaying the powerful muscles beneath. After a few wonderful minutes Mitch pulled away and took my mouth with hers, kissing me deeply and making my spirit melt inside me. God, I wanted her to take me, and she knew it. "Get on the bed, lay back. I wanna taste you." My heart was racing as I obeyed, watching wide eyed as Mitch approached, eyes hungry. She stripped off her slacks before joining me on the mattress, covering me with her body and kissing me deeply, pressing me into the softness of the bed. Slowly she worked her way down my body, taking an exquisite amount of time with every square inch of my skin she kissed. I just let myself float in the attention of my lover, the soft feel of her lips, the heat of her body. Her mouth closed over one of my nipples, making me moan and push my chest up into her mouth, my hands gripping the sheets. Mitch was definitely energized by my reaction, increasing the intensity just like I wanted. It always amazed me how well we communicated during sex, how easily she read what I wanted and how I wanted it. I felt so connected with her, from the first kiss to the lovely cuddling that came afterwards. I belonged completely to her, and I knew, deep in my soul, that her heart was mine, the most precious gift I would ever be given.

I was almost surprised when Mitch's mouth began to move down over my belly. When she reached the waistband of my panties my knees closed so she could strip them off. Her lips and tongue feathered along my inner thighs as my legs opened to her, and she settled between them, my eyes closing as she took me to heaven. Mitch feasted on me for over half an hour, my orgasms flowing like streams, one into another. I tried to be quiet for the first one, remembering that Mitch's parents were just down the hall, but by the second I'd mostly forgotten. After that, I had no concept of where I was, other than under Mitch's care. Finally I pushed her away. "Okay, stop, mmm, my turn. I want a turn." "Yeah?" Mitch moved up over my body, grinning that mischievous little Mitch smile. I stared into her blue eyes, my mouth watering at the thought of her taste. "Yeah, please?" "Sweetheart, you never have to beg for that." She rolled onto her back and shimmied off her boxers. "Come get it." I giggled at her playfulness and climbed into position, inhaling her rich aroma before I lowered my lips to her sex. "Oh, Cindy, that feels so good, yeah, just like that, oh shit." I loved the little things she said while I was pleasuring her. To be honest, even after a year together I was still sometimes unsure about what I was doing, wondering if I was as good as others she'd been with. I mean, how could someone as flamboyant and vibrant as Mitch be happy with boring, simple, nerdy me? But the way she talked to me, the purr in her voice, it put me completely at ease, so that connection I mentioned never wavered. I felt her seize underneath my mouth, her powerful thighs closing around my head as she came. I sucked on her clit, pulsing it with the rhythm I knew she loved. As she came back to earth I wondered to myself, what would she really like now? I could give her another like this, but she had been complimenting me all night on how beautiful I was. I needed something that would let her see me as I pleasured her. I kissed my way up her toned body, straddling her left leg while I pulled the other up and to the right, pressing our cores together until I could feel her swollen clit between my labia. Her eyes were as wide as I'd ever seen them as

she stared up at me. I smiled down at her, running my hand up through my hair, exposing my neck as I undulated my hips in slow sensual circles. After all, Mitch wasn't the only high level athlete in this bed, and I used all my core strength and muscle tone to keep working her just like I wanted. I arched my back, pushing my breasts out, and Mitch reached up to caress them. I concentrated on stimulating her, instead of chasing my own pleasure, and I was rewarded as she cried out, pushing herself against me as orgasmic pulses seized her over and over. When they finally subsided I was grinning ear to ear at the look of pure contentment on my lover's face. Eventually she opened her eyes and pulled me down to her, kissing me deeply. "My god, Cindy, that was incredible." I nuzzled into her shoulder. "I'm glad." Mitch kissed my ear, temple, then forehead, moving so she was looking deep into my eyes. "Seriously, do you have any idea how beautiful you looked tonight?" "Some, I could see it in your eyes." My voice was small and shaky with emotion, but Mitch's was firm as she continued. "Well, I had it doubly bad. I mean, everyone could see how lovely you are here," she ran a finger over my cheek, "and here," a hand touched my waist and hip. "But I know how beautiful you are in here," she touched my temple with her forefinger, "and here," placing her palm over my heart. A tear formed in my eye. "Oh, Mitch." "I can't believe how lucky I am to be with you. I love you." With that I lost it, sobbing with joy as she held me to her, repeating those three beautiful words over and over. We kissed so deeply I didn't know where I stopped and she started. Eventually I broke away and touched my face. "God I must be a mess." "You've never been lovelier." I excused myself to go wash my face, something Mitch allowed only with reluctance. When I finished and returned the bed was turned down, and Mitch

was waiting for me under the covers. I slid in next to her, letting her wrap me in her warmth. *** If her parents heard anything last night they didn't let it on that morning, and we left for the long drive back to campus after many hugs and smiles. I felt loved and accepted, and really I was. Mitch's parents, Coach Holiday, the girls on the team, Carl and Bridget, they all accepted me just like I was. There was only one hurdle left. I like to think of Junior year as our golden year. We didn't have graduation looming; decisions about real life seemed eons away. We were living in our own apartment, sleeping in a real bed. It was wonderful. Mitch had gotten all of her prerequisites out of the way, and she was doing really well academically, and I was starting to get the upper level econ courses I'd been looking forward to. Carrie and Barbara were regular guests at the apartment, sometimes with boyfriends in tow. We all still worked out most afternoons, and we practiced on the campus courts whenever we could. When the season started it was clear that Barbara had eclipsed me, and Coach put her in at number five singles, but kept me camped out at number six. That was fine; I was just happy to be on the team. Mitch and Carrie played four and three, while Mitch and my doubles team moved up to number two. The really awesome thing was actually academic for me. With the help of my academic advisor I picked out several prestigious internships for which to apply, and shortly after Christmas I ended up with my pick of two excellent ones. I talked it over with Mitch, of course. "This one actually comes with a little studio apartment, no roommate. And it's at a brokerage firm, which is kind of what I want to do. So I'm leaning towards it." "It might be fun. Summer in Atlanta." "It'd be really good experience, and Professor Sommers knows it's a good company." I hesitated for a second. "I just wish you could come with me." "Why can't I?" My brow furrowed. "Don't you have to go home and work for your dad?"

Mitch pretended to get thoughtful. "Well, my dad is a regional manager, and he knows people all over the Southeast. I bet he could find me a job in Atlanta." "Oh, Mitch!" I jumped into her lap, hugging her tight. "You think I could handle being away from you for another three months again? Not a chance." I sat back. "I'm not sure they'll let me have a, um, partner or anything." She shrugged. "Why tell them? Better to ask forgiveness than permission, my dad always said." It turned out that neither Mitch's job nor the housing situation were issues. The housing form I had to complete had a section for both pets and partners, and all I had to do was check yes and put down Mitch's name and occupation. We got a call from the housing people a few days later stating that she had to submit to a background check, but after that everything was a piece of cake. The same ended up being true for Mitch's job. As soon as we knew where we'd be staying Jack made some calls, and within a week Mitch had a summer job lined up. What I wasn't expecting came later. Mitch was out picking up some groceries on Saturday, and I'd stayed behind, deciding to bite the bullet and call my family. "Hey, dad, just wanted to let you know that I've got an internship this summer." I hadn't told him I was even applying. The disapproval was evident in the iciness of his voice. "Your aunt and uncle will be expecting you to help at the diner, Cindy." "Dad, this is a really prestigious internship. It's going to help me get a good job when I graduate. I can't turn it down." "You can and you will, if I tell you to. Where is this internship?" "Atlanta." "Absolutely not. Cindy, do you have any idea how evil that city is? No." "Carl did internships when he was in school!" God, I sounded like a petulant ten year old.

"You're brother is a young man. He needs a career to support a family. You do not. You will be home after classes end, and this summer you will be more hospitable to the young men your mother introduces you to. Do you have any idea how much damage control we had to do after last summer? The rumors about you?" "What rumors?" "I'm not going into that. We've taken care of it. But you will do better this summer, or you won't be going back to that school." He didn't even bother to say goodbye. By the time Mitch walked into the apartment I was in tears. She dropped the bags onto the counter and ran to me, and I threw myself into her arms, sobbing hysterically. She didn't ask what was wrong, or try to shush me, instead just holding me in her arms until I quieted down. "I'm sorry." "It's okay. You, babe, are always allowed to cry on my shoulder." She ran her fingers through my hair. "Now, you want to tell me what happened?" I gave her a brief rundown of the conversation, and I could see anger flare in her eyes as I related what my father had said. "Okay, Cindy, can I ask you some questions?" I nodded, wiping a tear from my eye. "Are you financially dependent on your father at all? I know he's not paying tuition or housing or anything here." I took a moment to make a mental inventory. "He pays for my phone. And insurance, medical and auto." Mitch nodded. "Anything else?" "I don't think so." "Well, you don't have a car, so you don't really need auto insurance. Health insurance is a risk, but you're young and healthy, so a small one. It's not like we need birth control. And we can figure something out for your phone. So you have to decide."

I nodded. "You just don't understand. I've never defied my father about anything. I mean, anything major." Mitch gave me a sideways grin. "Okay, other than dating you. But he doesn't know about that." "So what do you want to do?" "I want that internship. I've already accepted it. I mean, this would mean I could work almost anywhere when I graduate." "Then call him and tell him. Not ask, tell." "You don't know my dad." "No, I don't, but I know you, and you're strong enough to do this." "And if he cuts me off?" "I don't think it'll come to that, but if he does, we'll deal. Together." I wrapped my arms around her and let her hold me close for a few minutes before I pulled away. "Okay, I'm ready." I took a deep breath and pressed my father's icon on my phone. He didn't even say hello. "Cindy, I told you I'm done talking about this." I could feel Mitch bristle at his dismissive tone, and my own temper rose as well. "Well, I'm not. I'm taking the internship. I've already accepted it." "You don't speak to me that way, young lady." "Sorry, but I'm not asking." "Do I need to come and bring you home? Because I will." "You can't, Dad. I'm an adult, whether you admit it or not." My heart was in my throat, but Mitch was nodding to me as I paced around our little apartment, giving me strength. "You are my daughter, my responsibility, and under my authority until you have a husband. Something that can't happen soon enough, I think. Am I understood?" I looked wide-eyed at Mitch, who narrowed her eyes and nodded, silently telling me I can do this.

"I understand. But you need to understand that I'm taking this internship, and if you come and try to take me home I'll call the police." I pressed the disconnect icon and tossed my phone on the couch, shaking. Mitch gathered me into her arms. "You were awesome." "Couldn't have done it without you." "Sure you could've. But I'm glad you didn't have to." My phone began to buzz almost immediately, and I sent my dad's call straight to voicemail. About an hour later my brother called. "Well, I think I have him talked out of showing up on your doorstep." "That's a relief." "Yeah. It took me pointing out that if we tried we'd be arrested." Mitch laughed and spoke up. "He wanted you to help?" "Of course, as his son it's my responsibility to help keep my sisters in line, apparently." I did have a conversation with my mother later that evening, where she implored me to just do what he said. "He just wants what's best for you, Cindy." "No, he doesn't, Mom. He wants what he thinks is best for him, just like always. This internship is what I want. It's what's best for me and my career, which I am going to have, by the way. I will not be a housewife." "What's wrong with being a housewife and a mother?" "Nothing. If that's what I wanted, I'd do it. I don't fault any woman, or man, for that matter, who does. But it isn't what I want, Mom. And I can still be a mother and have a family." She tried to change my mind for a while longer before giving up, and I waited anxiously for the next few days to see if the service to my phone would cut off. It never did, though. The season ended in another SEC title and a deep run in the NCAA tournament. Heather, our top senior, made it all the way to the quarterfinals in the singles tournament, which was awesome. She'd decided that she was going to go pro, and was headed out onto the Challenger circuit with a coach and agent

and everything. Nothing like the entourages the top pros have, but it was impressive to little old us. Carl and Bridget made it to a few matches, and I got updates from my brother about Dad and Mom. There had been complete radio silence from the homestead itself. My texting conversation with my little sister Charlotte stopped though, and I'm pretty sure Dad made her block me. Probably what scared me most was that my defiance might cost her the opportunity to go to college or to pursue the activities she wanted. I relayed those fears multiple times to Mitch, and she would just tell me that I am not responsible for my parent's actions, or their overreactions, for that matter. I tried to believe her. Before we left for the summer we re-upped our lease, with no increase in rent, thank goodness. It felt nice knowing we had our little love nest to return to after our grand adventure in the city. The neatest thing was that just as we got settled, the calendar turned to June. I'd spent last Pride Month in my tiny Georgia town pretending that firstly, it wasn't happening and secondly, that I wasn't gay. I'd also had to smile at redneck assholes who made petty to disparaging to downright vicious comments about gay people while I served them bacon cheeseburgers and French fries or biscuits and gravy, all while silently hoping the food would clog their arteries sooner rather than later. I guess that was a little petty too, but I'm only human. But Atlanta was completely different. Probably not everywhere, but so many businesses had pride flags in their windows that I felt like I was living in a wonderland. "You want to do the parade?" I looked at Mitch, who was grinning ear to ear. "You mean like, go see it?" "No, that's not what I mean at all." I put an innocent lilt into my voice. "But I don't have anything to wear." Mitch shot me a wolfish grin. "We can fix that." We spent the next hour scouring the internet trying to find the perfect rainbow colored dress for me. I couldn't stop smiling the whole time, and we ended up ordering a knee length sleeveless summer dress with a faux-wrap bodice. Mitch ordered a T-shirt that said "I'm her butch" with a rainbow arrow

in the pointing to one side. She also ordered us matching "I'm hers," "She's mine," T-shirts in rainbow prints. So it was that on a sweltering Saturday in June I found myself milling about with hundreds, if not thousands, of other people in a riot of colors. Walking out of our little studio apartment I wondered if my dress was too garish, but compared to many of the other outfits in the crowd it was downright tame. Mitch was wearing her new T-shirt and loose jeans with one of those looping chains, her short, dark hair parted and combed to the side with the bangs swept up, looking every inch the beautiful butch that she was, with her gorgeous blue eyes sparkling in excitement. There were several people there doing face painting, so I sat down and had a small rainbow flag painted on one cheek, with interlocking rainbow feminine symbols on the other. And so we marched. People on the streets waved and cheered, there was music and dancing everywhere. I'll admit my heart was beating a little fast, but I was happy, accepted, surrounded by family I'd never met. There was the slightest chance I might end up on film that my dad would see, but I figured the risk was minimal. Mitch was in full 'never met a stranger' mode, hugging and shaking hands with everyone, always introducing me as her girlfriend. And whenever she did there was a note of such pride in her voice that made me feel so loved. And it wasn't just her. To be honest it was similar to the feeling I got at Georgia Football games. Even if you didn't know everyone, or even anyone, we were all together, one family. We ended up going out to dinner with a few couples we met at the parade, telling stories about how we all met, how we realized we weren't straight, and sharing coming out stories. I was mostly quiet for the latter, and our new friends took little time to figure out the reason for that. They ran the gamut, from accepting families like Mitch's to initially rejecting families that came around, to families that had completely disowned their daughter. The woman who came from that family, Petra, was older than us, early thirties, I'd guess. There was a pained look in her eyes as she talked about it. "I went through a lot of depression, even had thoughts of suicide when I was younger. But when I owned it, accepted it, and stood up for myself it got better, even if my family wouldn't acknowledge me. It took a toll on my

relationships, too, but when I met Deb it got better. She encouraged me to see a counselor, helped me see I was worth something." Petra's wife reached out and took her hand. Even though same sex marriage was still illegal in Florida, they'd traveled up to Massachusetts and tied the knot. They'd been together almost ten years, and the affection between them was obvious. As they smiled at each other Mitch's palm slipped up against mine, and I squeezed it back. That was us someday, and I wanted it. I wanted to spend my life with Michelle Kirkpatrick, to be her wife, to share children with her. Deb and Petra's two children were spending the day with their grandparents, and they couldn't stop showing us pictures, which was adorable. After dinner we all went out for drinks and dancing, and it was so cool, seeing couples of every possible configuration around us. The only requirement was to be yourself, and be with someone you wanted. I wanted to be with Mitch. Whether she was showing off her crazy moves or holding me close during a slow song, I couldn't stop smiling. Eventually she brought me back to our apartment, slipping on the strap on and taking me gently to heaven. I adored feeling her inside me, the gentle friction, the deep pleasure. There was no more worry about pain or disappointment, and I could just relax into the bliss of being loved. I felt like a woman, instead of a kid. I wasn't just fooling around, I was making love to my partner. And with all that, I had no trouble accepting the orgasms that wracked my body as Mitch sent me soaring higher and higher. It was a wonderful summer. My internship was really interesting. I was reviewing small accounts, $100K to a Quarter Million, making sure they all met the standards set and seeing if they qualified for additional or new services. I was even encouraged to make suggestions regarding the distributions. Granted, those weren't really taken seriously most of the time, but my supervisor gave me honest feedback, and I got to learn about how private assets were managed in the real world, instead of the theoretical bubble presented to us in college. Mitch and I took every opportunity to explore the city. We went to festivals, including a food & wine festival, an ice cream festival, and a film festival. We also spent a few fun Saturdays exploring Five Little Points. I got to have Ethiopian food for the first time and we saw a few local bands perform at the playhouse.

t seemed like it was over in no time, and we were back in Athens for our Senior year. I still hadn't spoken to my father, but I was in contact with Mom and Charlotte again, which made me feel better. We had Carrie over for dinner the first night she got back into town, and we compared notes on our internships. She had loved her summer in Orlando, and was already talking about moving there after graduation. "If they offer me a job I'll probably take it. You know the National Tennis Center is there, and there are several other smaller clubs. How about you? You gonna be moving up to Atlanta after graduation?" "Maybe, I'm not sure." "Didn't you like it?" "Yeah, but I just want to keep my options open." The truth is I wasn't sure where Mitch would end up, and I didn't want to say anything that would worry or influence her. Mitch shook head as she sat next to me, putting her arm around my shoulder. "At least you two are actually going to be graduating in the spring." Carrie gave Mitch a bemused look. "You aren't graduating?" "I'll have enough credits to walk, but I still have to do my student teaching somewhere before I get my license, and I won't be able to do that until next fall." "Do you know where you'll be doing it?" Mitch shook her head. "They won't be giving out the assignments until the end of fall semester. Assuming they have enough. My GPA isn't nearly as high as a lot of the others, so I'm not going to get my pick. And I'll still be a student here, even if I'm not on campus, so I have to figure out a way to pay for it." I'll admit I worried about it a lot. What would we do after graduation? How do we go forward? These hard decisions seemed so much closer this side of summer, and I could begin to see the Sword of Damocles hanging over our future. I wasn't sure if I was projecting, but it seemed like Mitch was getting more and more nervous about things in general. I probably would have distanced, but Mitch had the opposite reaction, holding me a little tighter, being more giving when we made love, overall just showing an odd amount of deference.

I finally worked up the courage to ask her about it one Sunday morning as we lay in bed. "Sweetheart, what's bothering you?" "What? Nothing." I turned in her arms, running my fingers through her short, dark hair. God, she had the most beautiful eyes. "I may not be as good at reading people as you are, but I know something's up. You don't have to hide from me. You know that right?" Mitch took a deep breath. "I just, I don't know." "C'mon, tell me. Is it about school?" She shook her head. "Not exactly. The end of school." "Yeah, I've been thinking about it too. What are we going to do?" "I won't be able to get a job until after I get my license. Maybe not until the next fall. And who knows where that'll be. I'll probably have to move home, at least over the summer. It's gonna be so hard to afford anything else." "And you don't think they'd let you bring me with you?" A spark of hope flashed in her blue eyes. "Would you even consider that?" I propped myself up on my elbow. "Of course I would. Why wouldn't I?" "But it would only be for the summer, and then I'd have to go wherever my student teaching is. And you have to start your career. I don't want to hold you back." "Sweetheart, you won't, I promise. I don't have to make any decisions about where I'm going until next semester. I'll probably do some interviews, but nothing more. We will figure it out. As long as we're together." "So we're going to last? Past school?" I was hurt. "Well, yeah. What'd you think, that I was just going to go home? Lesbian until graduation?" "I'm sorry. I just know how hard it was for you this summer, defying your parents."

I closed my eyes and collected my thoughts. "Michelle, I know I'm not the most expressive person in the world, and if I've ever left you in doubt about how I feel I'm sorry." I looked deep into her eyes, which were shining with emotion. My whole body felt shaky, but I forced my voice to stay as calm as possible. "Let me clear this up right now. I love you. I am so in love with you that the concept of not being with you over this summer, or in ten years, or fifty years from now, hurts too much to even think about." I took her hand. "I want this, you and me, forever. And if I have to choose between you and my family, I will choose you. Everyday, always. I want a life, a family, with you." I cupped her cheek with my palm. "Do you understand?" Mitch nodded, her eyes swimming with tears. "Michelle, is that what you want?" "God, Cindy, yes. Please, yes." "Okay then. We are going to figure this out. And we'll get through it, whatever it takes, together." She was still nervous as the end of the semester approached, but it didn't have anything to do with me. A few weeks before finals I had a group project meeting for my Poli-Sci class on a Saturday afternoon. Firstly, who does that? Even I'm not that big of a nerd. But anyway, when I got back to the apartment there was a candle burning on our little table, which was covered by a white tablecloth with two places set. I hung up my backpack, grinning at the set up. "What's the occasion?" Mitch was wearing an apron, but underneath was one of her nicer button downs and jeans. "I have some news." She came up and kissed me, and when we broke apart I was able to fully appreciate both her dancing eyes and the fact the whole apartment smelled like garlic and oregano. "I take it it's good news?" "You could say that." "So are you gonna tell me, or do you want to feed me first?" "You hungry?" I heaved a sigh. "Starving." "Well then, have a seat, and I'll do both."

I sat down and Mitch carried over a pan which was filled with Pasta Bolognese, one of my favorite things Mitch made. "Ooh, yummy!" "I thought you'd approve." I scooped some onto my plate and took a bite, excellent as always. "Mmm, that's delicious, sweetheart. Now what's going on?" Mitch served herself a generous portion and sat down. "Well, yesterday I got a call from Principal Solomon." "From your old high school?" "Yep. Anyway, she wanted to know if I'd be graduating, and I told her the situation. It turns out Mrs. Simmons, one of our PE teachers, her husband got a promotion, and she's moving to Miami with him. Principal Solomon asked me if I wanted to do my student teaching there, and then take over the position the next semester." My mouth was hanging open. "Seriously?" Mitch shrugged and nodded, fighting back a smile by biting her lower lip with her front teeth. "I told you they loved me there". I jumped to my feet, holding out my arms. "Honey, that's wonderful! I'm so excited for you!" "For us." We embraced, and she rocked me in place. "You know what this means, right? I've already talked to my dad. We can just move to my parent's until you find a job, and when you know where you'll be working we can find a place in between." A tear leaked free from my eye. "This is really happening, isn't it?" "Yeah, it is. You and me. But you know what's happening first?" I grinned up at her. "What?" "Dinner. This sauce is killer." I laughed the way only Mitch could make me laugh, and we sat back down. I lay in bed that night, listening to Mitch's gentle breathing as she held me. She'd been in a fantastic mood, and my body was still humming from the very thorough pleasuring it had just received. I'm pretty sure I'd given as good as I gotten, which made me happy, since it was Mitch's big day, after all.

But, of course, there was still one massive thing hanging over me. I'd have to let my parents know what was happening. It was one thing to sneak off for a summer, but if I was going to move to Florida permanently to live with Mitch I was going to have to tell my parents something. *** I didn't sleep much that night, or for several nights following. Eventually Mitch worked it out of me what I was worried about. "So what do you want to do, sweetheart?" "I don't know!" I buried my head in Mitch's shoulder. "What should I do?" "I wish I knew, baby." She rubbed my arms. "Are you going to go home for Thanksgiving?" "Yeah, I think so, just to see what's really going on." "You talk to your dad yet?" I shook my head. "I've talked to Mom, and I know Dad won't kick me out if I show up. But I'll get a lecture for sure." Mitch chuckled. "Don't laugh at me." "I'm sorry." She didn't stop, and her infectious laugh soon had me giggling along, making me feel better. Mitch pulled me in for another hug, rocking me in her strong arms. "No matter what, I come back to this, right?" "Of course. All yours." So I went home for Thanksgiving. I did my very best to be deferential and accommodating and to not cause waves, but it was hard. The entire weekend was a parade of extended family, and I couldn't help but be struck by how backward and bigoted they were. How had I never really noticed before? My mother intimated to my aunts that I would be moving home after college. "Oh, I can't wait for Cindy to be home again. It's been so hard having her away. And, back among wholesome, hard working boys instead of those liberal college people, I'm sure she'll be wanting to start a family soon."

I heard her talk about Carl and Bridget, too, mentioning often that Bridget's father and grandfather were preachers, and never once mentioning that she was half Guatemalan. I also noted how they all talked about their children. I had a number of cousins on both sides of the family, and the male ones were certainly praised for their families, but also how well they were doing in their careers or sporting exploits for the ones still in school, but the girls, apparently the only things of worth they were capable of was getting married and having babies, exclusively in that order. Whenever one of my aunts would be talking about their grandchildren and notice I was there, they would pat me on the shoulder and assure me I'd meet someone soon, generally using that condescending voice that comes so naturally to some people. My father did give me the expected talking to. "I hope you've got that all out of your system, young lady. When you come home I won't tolerate that sort of defiance." I didn't say anything, other than "Yes, Daddy." When he determined I'd been properly chastened he dismissed me, and I went into the kitchen to help my mother and Charlotte. Mom smiled at me, and I felt a connection to her, realizing we'd both been on the receiving end of those lectures more than a few times. I also was acutely aware that I was going to break my mother's heart. In Mitch's arms the decisions seemed so easy, but here, in the house I'd grown up in, next to the woman who'd raised me, I understood why so many stayed in their proverbial closets, and how wanting to be with the person you loved could feel so damn selfish. It changed nothing about what I planned to do, though. Now that it was so close to reality, I knew more than ever that I couldn't give what I had with Mitch up. It would be wrong on so many levels, and maybe it would inspire someone else from my little town that there were other options than hiding in the shadows for their entire lives. The semester ended, and I had one more set of holidays to get through, and I managed to do so, although not without emotion. Mitch's situation had been finalized, and she was officially scheduled to be a student teacher in Tampa in the fall, and I imagined what my life would be like a year from now, realizing

this would be the last Christmas I would have to spend apart from Mitch. It also might be the last I ever spent with my family. Blessedly, spring semester started, bringing with it my final collegiate tennis season. Coach had told me she had me inked into the number six singles spot, and she wanted me to work with the new freshman as much as possible, which I did, of course. We had another very successful season, and my time on the tennis courts was a blessed relief from the anxiety surrounding the approaching end of school. If I'd had any lingering doubts about going with Mitch after graduation, they were laid to rest on Senior Day. Mitch's mom and dad, as well as Carrie's parents, were all there for our last home match of the season. I still got to walk out and get flowers as everyone in the stadium applauded for me, but I had to do it alone. My teammates and coaches were there, and the fans, and especially Mitch, but I'd never felt so abandoned. That night Mitch just took me into her arms as I cried and cried. Eventually I fell asleep, and my dreams were a turbulent mess. But throughout there was one thing that was consistent. Wherever Mitch was, there was peace and rest. I woke up, still in her arms, feeling safe and loved. Mitch's fingers were running softly up and down my arm as I leaned against her. She kissed me on the shoulder. "Morning, baby." "Good morning. I love you." Mitch pulled me close. "I love you, too." "Will you do something for me?" She kissed the back of my head. "Of course, baby. Anything." "After graduation, will you come with me back to my parents' house? Help me get my stuff? I'm not going to take much." "Sure. Of course." "I'm going to tell them." "And you want me there so your dad can shoot me in person?"

I giggled. "That's unlikely. Besides, Dad keeps his guns unloaded. You should have a sporting chance to run away." "Guns, like, plural? How many plurals?" "Um, two hunting rifles and a handgun. Oh, and a shotgun." "Okay, see, when I said I'd go, I was being metaphorical." I turned in her arms. "Really? You'd leave me there all alone?" I nuzzled her neck, making her sigh. "If I'm going to risk my neck, what do I get?" I kissed down lower, onto her collarbone and chest. "I'd be grateful." "Ooh," she stroked the back of my head as my lips moved over her skin, "How grateful?" I pushed her onto her back, moving lower, pulling up her tank top and kissing her flat, toned stomach. "Very grateful." "Okay, oh, wow, you might be convincing me." "I'll try harder then." I pulled off her boxers in one clean motion and settled between her legs. I let her flavor wash over me as I suckled her labia and clit, taking her higher and higher. If you're wondering, I never for one second thought Mitch would let me face my parents alone. I also knew the chances of my father pulling a gun on her were miniscule. A violent temper was not one of my father's many faults. Still, pretending to convince her was going to be a lot of fun, so I carried on. We didn't get out of bed until almost noon, and I shooed Mitch off to the living room. I had work to finish. I knew that if I finished with a four point oh this semester I'd graduate summa cum laude, which had been a goal of mine since Freshman year. Mitch always joked that if I was graduating summa cum laude, she was graduating 'thank the laude', but I knew she was rooting for me as hard as anyone. I also found out that week that I'd been voted onto the first team Academic All SEC team, which was awesome. Our season ending tournaments finished, and there was nothing left in my academic career but graduation. Mitch's parents came into town the day before, taking Carrie, Mitch and me out to dinner to celebrate. Carrie's parents and sisters would be here in the morning.

She was taking the job in Orlando, where she'd interned, which was awesome, 'cause she'd only be a few hours away from us in Tampa.. It was kind of crazy. The ceremony came, a dazzling display of color and humanity, all packed into Sanford Stadium as Senator Chambliss reminded us that the world is a scary place and challenged us to bring light out of the shadows. It was a culmination of four years of study and change. To say that I was a different person today than I had been that day sprinting to my first class was a massive understatement. I glanced over my shoulder toward the sea of caps and gowns, knowing the woman I loved was out there somewhere. She'd changed me, just like Coach Holiday and my professors. But no one more than Michelle Kirkpatrick. I think it's the final mark of adulthood, to stand up and make your own way in the world, to accept responsibility for your choices. Of course, I realized that I was moving into my girlfriend's parent's house for a moment, but still. For me it was huge, just like the world was huge. And then it was over, and Mitch and I were lying in our bed for the last time. The boxes and suitcases were stacked by the front door, and Jack and Stacy would be here first thing in the morning. They'd take the vast majority back with them, and Mitch and I would head to my parent's house. They still believed that I was staying. Carl and Bridget knew the truth, but I'd told them to stay away. I didn't want either of them hit with any stray animosity, although I promised to keep Carl updated, especially if things went sideways. We made short work of loading Jack's truck, and by nine o'clock we were outside Athens driving through the Georgia countryside. "That's crazy. The dirt in this state really is red, isn't it?" I shook my head, appreciating Mitch's latest attempt at light conversation. "Yeah. Don't you remember from 'Gone with the Wind'? The red earth of Tara? You think they were making that up?" "I don't know what I thought, but it's kind of creepy." I laughed and looked back out the window, trying to keep my heart rate down. Eventually we pulled into town, and I took a few deep breaths. Mitch reached over and took my hand. "So what's the plan?"

"I'm going to go in and talk to them, then I'll come out and get you." "Alright." "And if I come out running, start the truck." Mitch gave a nervous chuckle. "Check." I directed her to my house. She backed into the short driveway. That was probably a good idea, allowing for a much faster getaway if needed. Mitch squeezed my hand. "You're going to be okay. I'm right here, and I love you." The sincerity in her face brought a tear to my eye, and I leaned over and kissed her, taking strength from her touch. "Okay." I breathed deep, climbed out of the truck, and went inside. My dad was sitting in his chair, reading the Sunday paper. He'd already changed out of his church clothes; they generally went to the early service. My mom came out from the kitchen with a smile. "Hello, sweetheart!" She gave me a hug, which I let linger, seeing as it would be my last for a very long time. My father folded his newspaper and set it aside. "Do you need some help bringing things in, Cindy?" "No, Dad. I'm not staying." His gaze grew icy. "What exactly do you mean by that?" I forced myself not to drop my gaze. "I'm not moving home, Dad." "Where exactly do you expect to be going?" "I'm moving to Tampa, Florida." I sucked in a deep breath as my heart thundered in my chest. "With Michelle. She's doing her student teaching there, and I'm going to get a job. Start my career." "You're moving to a different state to be with your college roommate. You understand how that looks, how it will look to everyone here." The tone of his voice told me he already had suspicions. I guess I hadn't been as clandestine as I'd hoped. "How does it look, Dad?" "Like you are in a sinful relationship with that woman. I've seen her, you know, your doubles partner. People at the plant have shown me pictures from

the internet. They've asked questions. I assured them you would never sully yourself in that way, that you would not embarrass this family like that. Tell me you haven't." His voice was frozen fire, and I could feel the fury building behind it. "Haven't what, Dad? Haven't been with her? That I'm not gay? Is that what you're worried about?" I glanced at Mom, who'd lowered herself onto the couch, wearing a look of stunned disbelief. "Don't toy with me, young lady." Dad sat forward. "Have you defiled yourself with that girl?" That word made me angry, and my soul steeled inside me. "No, I have not. I have shared a bed with her for the last three years. We have been as intimate as two people can be, and none of it has defiled me. I am moving to Tampa with her, and we are going to start a life and a family together" "A family!? It's not a family, it's an abomination, young lady. You are going to get your bags and forget this nonsense." He looked past me. "Charlotte! Back to your room!" I turned in time to see my sister vanish down the hall. "Really. That's what you want? Your openly gay daughter living under your roof? Cause that's what I am, Dad." I put some spite into the word. "I'm not hiding any more. Now we're going to get my things from my room, and we're going to leave." "We? She's here?" "She's in her truck. She's going to help me pack. We'll be gone faster that way." "That person is not allowed in my house! If she steps in the front door I'm calling the police." "Fine, Dad, you do that, and I'll make sure the officer and everyone on the block knows exactly what's going on. We'll see how long the town rumor mill takes to grow this particular weed." Dad thought for a second, weighing the unpleasant options. In the end he decided on a different attack. "If you walk out that door you are not welcome back, not until you've repented from this filth. This will take you to hell. You know that."

"If God doesn't want me to be happy, especially in an innocent, mutually healthy relationship, then he's not worth worshipping. " Mom was crying, and there were tears in my eyes as well. I went to the front door, opening it and beckoning Mitch inside. She nodded and grabbed the flat boxes and the tape gun out of the back and headed my way. A voice from behind me spoke, but I didn't turn. "You are not my daughter. You have no place in this family. Get your things and leave. Don't darken our doorstep again. I wash my hands of you and your filth." There was no sadness or regret, no trace of pain in his voice, just anger and hatred that made my blood run cold. By the time Mitch got inside my dad was gone, probably retreating into his study. To be honest, that was as good as I could have hoped for, so I figured we should make hay. Mom was still sitting on the couch, now staring in unabashed horror at the tall butch now standing in her living room. "Mom, this is Michelle Kirkpatrick. My girlfriend." Mom didn't acknowledge her, even when Mitch nodded to her and said, "Ma'am." I decided not to push it, and led Mitch back to my room. We packed quickly. I pulled out my Letterman's jacket and other clothes I hadn't brought to school while Mitch assembled boxes. I moved with a fire in me. I wasn't sure what my dad was planning, if anything, and I wanted to be gone and out of his reach as soon as possible. By some miracle, we didn't see him again. In less than an hour I had my clothes and sundries packed, and we were pulling away from my house. My mother hadn't said goodbye, not that I'd expected it. As we pulled out of town the emotion of the thing started to catch up to me, and tears were rolling down my face. "Sweetheart?" There was real concern in my girlfriend's voice, and I made myself look at her and smile. "I'm okay, sweetie." "I'm so sorry, baby." It looked like she had something else to say. So I asked. "What?" "You, um," she swallowed heavily, "you don't blame me, do you?"

"Blame you? For what?" "Well, if you hadn't met me, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't be taking you away from your family." This was very unlike Mitch. She was always confident to the point of cocky, in the most innocent and endearing way, of course. Seeing her vulnerable and scared was disconcerting, so I reached out and took her hand. "Sweetheart, don't. Remember when you told me I wasn't responsible for my parents actions?" "Yeah." "Neither are you." My thumb ran over the back of her hand, and I could feel the energy that was always present when we touched. "I know, but still." "I know too. I know it shouldn't be like this. I should be able to bring the person I love home to my family, regardless of who they are. I shouldn't have to choose. But I know I chose right. You know how I know?" She turned her perfect blue eyes to mine, her gentle smile filling my soul. "How?" "Because of the way that you're looking at me now. Because I know how much you love me." I smiled back at her. "Because I can't wait to start our life together." A tear formed in Mitch's eye as she looked back to the road. "Our life. Sounds perfect." It was a long trip, and it was well after ten before we pulled into the Kirkpatricks' driveway. But even though the sun was long down, Jack and Stacy were standing on the porch, and when I climbed down out of the passenger side of Mitch's truck, Stacy's arms were waiting for a much needed hug. I kind of broke down on her shoulder, and she just held me tight and let me cry. "You always have a family here, dear. You know that, right?" I nodded, not letting go for what felt like several more minutes. The cold finality of my father's voice still echoed in my mind. But I also knew I'd done the right thing, standing up for who I was, and what Mitch and I were together.

We spent the whole of the next year living with Mitch's parents. I found a job quickly, at a locally owned fiduciary where I had real contact with investor accounts. I had a pretty good idea from before, but it didn't take me long to realize that was what I wanted to do, working with smaller accounts and helping them grow, so that real people could have the retirements they deserved. Mitch did wonderfully at her student teaching, officially graduating in December and taking over her official teaching duties at the school, including being an assistant coach for the girl's tennis team. We spent, and still do spend, a lot of nights cuddled up on the couch breaking down film of her players and their upcoming opponents. We moved into our own place that following summer, just renting to start. I'd put almost my entire salary away that first year, and being in the financial game has other perks. I was able to keep my ear to the ground on foreclosures and seizures, and we were able to buy a little place for a great deal. It was just after two-thirty on a Tuesday afternoon, January 6th, 2015, exactly, when one of the ladies in my office poked her head into my cube. "Are you excited?" I looked up from the account I was working on. "About what?" "You don't know? God, Cindy, look at your phone." I gave a confused grin and pulled the device out of the drawer where I kept it. I didn't like it on my desk, where it had a tendency to distract me. Sure enough there was a news alert, which I pressed to open. 'Florida Supreme Court strikes down same-sex marriage ban." My hand went to my mouth, covering it as I drew a shaky breath. "Oh, my god!" Rachelle nodded. "Yeah, they're already giving out licenses in some counties. They expect all counties to start issuing them tomorrow." I felt a sob escape my chest, and the commotion drew the attention of many others in the office. I'd never hid my sexuality here, I refused to, and there was a picture of Mitch and me on my desk, so everyone knew what this meant to me. I glanced at the clock. School should have ended for Mitch just a few minutes ago, and I was just about to call when my phone started buzzing in my hand.

"Hello?" "Hi, sweetheart. Did you hear?" Her voice was dancing with happiness, and tears were rolling down my face. "Yeah, people in the office just told me." "So, what do you think? Cindy Spencer, will you marry me?" "Yes, of course I'll marry you." With that my whole office cheered, and I cried. My boss sent me home for the day, and Mitch and I and her parents all went out for dinner that night to celebrate. Mitch insisted that she be able to buy me a real ring, so I waited a year while she saved up the money before she proposed again. We got married in April, 2017, on a perfect Saturday afternoon. Carl gave me away, and Carrie and Bridget stood up as my bridesmaids. Carl and Bridget had gotten married two summers prior, and at their wedding Dad and Mom completely ignored my existence, which left me an emotional mess afterwards. At my own wedding it was so hard, not having my mother or sister there, but I had total confidence in my choice of partner. I've heard so many people, including Mitch, say that their wedding was a blur. I guess a lot of the day was, but I remember almost every second of the ceremony itself, the beauty of the garden, the color of the flowers, and the beaming gaze of Michelle as I walked towards her. The minister invited us to speak our promises before he got to the traditional vows, and I can recall almost every word, Mitch went first. "Cindy, my love, I'll never forget the first time I met you, and how much you didn't like me." --laughter- "But even then, in those early moments, you were the only thing I could think about. As we got closer, teammates, doubles partners, friends, I kept telling myself not to get too excited, because if I did, if I indulged those fantasies, and they didn't come true, I'm not sure I'd have survived. Not that I listened to myself, of course. I dreamed of this moment so often, that when you told me you wanted to be mine, I didn't believe it was really happening. I still think it's a dream, some crazy, perfect dream that I never want to wake from. Cindy, I'm yours. My heart, body, soul, all yours, forever. I promise

to be your best friend, biggest supporter, your wife, for every day God gives us together. I love you, always. The minister turned to me, and I very much wanted to know how I was supposed to speak with the tears of joy rolling down my face. But all I had to do was look up into Mitch's eyes, those perfect blue eyes, where there was love, and peace. "Michelle, you challenged everything I ever thought I knew from the first moments. I never told you this, but that first time, in the gym, I couldn't take my eyes off you. Your smile, your eyes, the way you moved, they captivated me in a way I didn't understand. But it wasn't just those things. Your relentless optimism, your passion for life, they brightened my world with colors I didn't know existed, and in your gentle arms, even when they were just the arms of a friend, I felt safe and happy in ways I'd never known. My heart understood it wanted to be yours for so long before my head caught up, but now I know. Every day with you is a joy and a gift, and every sacrifice is worth it if I get to be with you. I promise to be your friend, your lover, your cheerleader, and your critic. But mostly I promise to be your faithful wife and partner in all things. Now and forever. I love you, too." We went through the traditional vows, and Carl and Stacy lit the tapers we used to light our unity candle. Eventually the minister turned us toward the assembly. "And now, I present to you, for the first time, Michelle and Cindy Kirkpatrick. Ladies, you may kiss your bride." We held off on our honeymoon until Mitch was out of school, and then we were gone to Bermuda for a week, a gift from Mitch's grandparents. And that's basically where you met us, when Carrie brought Iryna to meet us that fall. That's been a few years now. Oh, and I just felt the baby kick. I had some complications, and my OB put me on bed rest three weeks ago. It's driving me nuts, even if it did give me the chance to write this, but I could deliver any day now. I'm definitely ready to not be pregnant anymore, but more than that I just want to hold my daughter. We haven't actually been told the sex, but I remember the dream I had before Mitch and I got together, and I know it's a girl. Carrie and Iryna helped us financially, as IVF is expensive and it took several attempts to get it right. Biologically Mitch is the mother, and Carl is the

donor. I was honestly a little worried that I wouldn't feel connected to the baby, because she wasn't biologically mine, but that fear vanished the first moment I felt her move inside me. I sent my mom a copy of the sonogram, along with a letter stating I would keep her updated about her granddaughter's life, and that she was always welcome to reach out. Carl says she's asked about me, how I'm doing. I'm hoping someday she'll find the courage to contact me. Charlotte was allowed to attend a small Christian college, but she dropped out after three semesters to get married. I wasn't invited to the wedding. I hope she's happy, and I think about her a lot. Mitch has been adorable. She reads and talks to my belly every day, saying she wants our baby to know her voice. She's also insistent that she gets to carry next time. She tells everyone it's so that she can send me for pickles and ice cream at two AM (which only happened once, thank you very much), but I know she just wants to experience this. I don't blame her. Feeling your child grow inside you is indescribable. I can hear the garage door opening, so Mitch is home. It still makes me smile every time. Thank you for reading, and God bless. Twenty years later "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the ladies final at Wimbledon, 2041. I'm James Blake, here with my partner, Bethanie Matttek-Sands, and Bethanie, this is the day the U.S. has been waiting for." "Absolutely, James, since bursting onto the scene at Flushing Meadows as an eighteen year old prodigy, we've all been waiting for the day the Great American Hope, Hope Kirkpatrick, would reach a grand-slam final. She faces a stiff test in Russian world number two, Sofia Ivanova, but with the dominance she's shown on the grass this fortnight, James, no one is calling her an underdog." "So true. As we wait for the player introductions, here's a shot of Hope's box. Her coach, there on the right, needs no introduction, nine time grand slam champion and former world number one Iryna Baraskova." "Yeah, James, she's been coaching Hope since she was sixteen, and of course sitting next to Iryna is Carrie Mitchell, Iryna's wife and absolute fixture through every one of her major titles. We all remember seeing her cheering and

urging Iryna on through every point of every slam, and, as Iryna would say, keeping both her body and mind in top condition for each. Next to them, the couple holding hands, are Hope's parents, Michelle and Cindy Kirkpatrick. I actually got to sit down with them earlier this week, and let me tell you, if anyone wonders where Hope gets both her passionate playing style and the poise and high tennis I.Q. everyone says is beyond her years, look no further. "Michelle is outgoing, dynamic, but always smiling and friendly, while Cindy is much more reserved and analytical, a brilliant tennis mind. They were both standouts at the University of Georgia, along with Carrie Mitchell, where they all met. But what really struck me, James, was the way the two of them just seem to resonate off each other. The energy between them is palpable, how much a part of each other they are. It's no wonder Hope has been able to reach so high so soon, with that secure foundation at home. Honestly, James, being around them made me want to go home and hug my husband, Justin, and remind him how happy he makes me." "That's sweet. I probably should shout out to my wife, Emily, back home, too. I love you. Anyway, we also see her brother, John, who competed in the boy's championships this year, making the quarters at age fifteen. A new addition to the box, behind Hope's mothers, is her uncle, Carl Spencer and his wife Bridget. This week Hope revealed to us that Uncle Carl is indeed her biological father, and she was asked after the semifinals about how it would feel to have her father there in the box. This is how she responded:" "Uncle Carl isn't my father. He's a wonderful Uncle, and I love him and Aunt Bridget and all my cousins, and I'm forever grateful for how he helped my moms have me and my brother, but I already have two wonderful parents, who've shown me not only how to play tennis and chase my dreams, but also how to love without conditions, how to support your partner through everything, and how to be a woman of passion, poise, and grace. "Even after almost thirty years together, they're still the best of friends, and still deeply in love. They've taught me what I want in a partner someday. But today, I just want to win Wimbledon." THE END