Wherever the Dandelion Falls (41 page)

"But he's hoping I'll come running back to him and jump into his arms."

I tried to picture Faye jumping into Isaiah's arms and felt my throat close. I swallowed and bit my lip before asking. "Do you ever do that?"

Faye gave a lighthearted roll of her eyes. "A few times when we first started dating and he picked me up at the airport. Back when everything was new and exciting."

I nodded, picturing Faye running towards me and jumping into my arms. "Is there any part of you that wants to do that?"

Faye looked up and to the side. "The part that doesn't want to hurt him. He deserves someone who will do that."

"Are you that person?"

Faye sighed and turned back to the pancakes, heavy. "I don't know."

Taking her cue that she was done talking about it for now, I finished my cereal quietly, giving her reassuring, sympathetic smiles between bites.

After we finished breakfast, she stood up and she seemed to realize she was standing in my kitchen without pants. Probably because I let my gaze flicker down to her legs. Those toned, beautiful legs that disappeared under the hem of my t-shirt. She was cooking me breakfast in my house, wearing nothing but her panties and my t-shirt. It was the closest I'd ever get to her being my girlfriend. It was a beautiful moment.

But then she realized I was looking at her, and she froze. I knew immediately that the spell that had rested over my house since she arrived, the bubble of fantasy I'd protected, had popped. She was going to leave. She'd promised to call Isaiah at noon, and she wasn't going to do that in my house with me listening. She went into the bathroom and came out a few minutes later, hair swept up and dress where my shirt had been minutes before.

As she headed for the door, I wanted more than anything to ask her what she was going to tell Isaiah. But at the same time, I wasn't ready to be told to give up, so I didn't ask. I said goodbye, wishing her luck, and told her to call me and let me know how it went. She gave a quick nod and a tight smile, already turning into the hall, shutting the door behind her.

I sank onto the couch. My apartment felt so much bigger without her there. Colder, too. She made it seem lighter and warmer, and I missed that. But mostly I just missed her.

The rest of the day I puttered around the house. I gathered some laundry to do the following day. When I came across the shirt Faye had borrowed, folded neatly on the edge of the bathroom sink, I was tempted to bury my nose in it. But that was a boundary I knew I shouldn't cross, so I put it in the basket with the rest of my laundry and started getting ready for my shift.

I knew I'd be working with Callie that afternoon, which would be awkward now. It was one of those shifts where I knew I was phoning it in. Even Callie could tell, because she called me on it.

Callie looked at me, adjusting her posture out of anything that could be construed as sexual as I wiped down a pole. "That girl let you down?" Her words were low and apologetic, surprisingly compassionate.

"Not really," I shrugged.

Callie nodded, turning back to a window as it opened, and greeting the customer in a voice an octave higher than the one she used with me. "Hey, baby, how's your night going?" she purred, running her hand from her neck down the side of her breast to her stomach.

It was something I'd done hundreds of times, and seen the other girls do thousands of times. But tonight, something about the whole thing bothered me.

In our neon-pink world, everything is backwards. The stunning, intelligent, ballsy girls I work with bust their asses chasing our customers. Out in the rest of the world, men drool over girls like us. These are the best girls I've ever met, and yet our customers are often ungrateful, unimpressed, rude, or ambivalent to us. They'll keep dropping quarters in the machine so they can look at us, but nothing we do gets much of a reaction. I could probably pull out a banjo and sit cross-legged on the floor and the customers' faces would stay the same.

Hustle club stripping is even worse. Those girls have to hustle to give lap dances, getting rejected time after time. Gorgeous, sexy girls wearing next to nothing have to chase sloppy, greasy men with beer guts and stained shirts, and they frequently get turned down. Getting turned down night after night by men you would never date wears on you. And then there's the fact that few people respect what we do and think we're tainted and undeserving of fulfilling lives and relationships.

People like my sister.

Maybe that's the reason I didn't chase Faye. I thought about her. I thought about her constantly. A few times while I danced in the Box, I imagined how I'd feel if she appeared in the shadows and watched me. Her dark eyes would blend into the walls, save for the sad shine that glinted there. She'd cross her arms and try not to touch any of the surroundings, embarrassed. She wouldn't even leave time for me to approach her. At least, that's what I imagined.

So I didn't chase her. I let the heavy reality that she wasn't going to call gradually soak into my resistant, exposed skin.

I went to Faye's house to pick her up for our cupcake convention date. I was happy we were going to do something besides hang out in each other's apartments. I was pretty excited about the cupcakes too, and I hoped that we'd have sex afterwards.

Not that our relationship was all about sex. It wasn't. That was just one of the most fun parts at the moment. The fact that we could hardly stand to be in the same room without wanting to rip each other's clothes off was awesome.

Faye looked nervous when she opened the door to meet me. When she got nervous, she had a hard time making eye contact and her words were clipped and rushed. When I saw her acting like that, I tried to be extra calm and light. I had promised to be on my best not-gay behavior, so hopefully that would relax her too.

We chatted a little on the way to Fort Mason. We'd been spending so much time together, there wasn't a lot to talk about besides what we'd eaten and who we'd seen since we last saw each other. She turned the radio on, and we talked about music.

But Justine's questions about whether or not Faye would come out were nagging at me. I wanted to ask Faye why she was so scared and where she saw herself in five years.

But I figured that was a conversation for another day. We could talk about serious things later when we were in bed together and I'd helped work out her nerves with at least one orgasm.

Parking was tricky, but we managed to find something that wasn't too far from the entrance. Inside, the dome of the converted hanger stretched above dozens of tables decked in colorful tablecloths. Tiers of cupcakes sprung up like Christmas trees before us and people jostled and took sips of wine between snatching quartered cupcakes from displays, faces animated or studious as they chewed and licked their fingers. It was noisy and smelled like spun sugar.

Faye glanced toward the center tables that were selling wine and I figured she'd want a glass to help her nerves.

"Want a glass of wine?" I offered with a perky smile.

"Sure."

"Want to wait here for our first samples?" I asked, pointing to a line that led to the first table of cupcakes.

Faye nodded and I went over to the wine booth, paying for two plastic cups of overpriced wine, bringing one back to Faye. When I handed her cup to her, she gave me a fleeting, grateful smile that assured me she actually wanted to be here with me. I hadn't been sure, to be honest. She was so stiff and terse, I wondered if she'd changed her mind. But that smile was a reminder that this was foreign territory to her.

At the same time, it was to me too. I'd dated Maggie for a few months in college, but dating in college is different than as an adult. Asking Faye to come hang out in my room wouldn't constitute a date like it did in college.

I figured I should probably let Faye know that I was winging it just as much as she was. So although I had been strict with myself about keeping extra distance between our bodies, I sidled up to her for a moment, grateful that straight girls are so affectionate with each other.

"I'm new to this too," I murmured.

I felt Faye stiffen next to me and I pulled away a few inches, worried I'd spooked her.

"To what?" Faye asked.

"To... cupcake conventions," I said with a wink. I didn't want to say
dating a girl
in public where someone could hear, causing Faye to spin into a panic.

Faye frowned, clearly not understanding my euphemism.

I was about to clarify when Justine appeared.

"Hey guys!" she said, greeting us animatedly. "How long have you been here?"

Faye turned to Justine, startled. "Just a few minutes."

"Are you having fun?" Justine asked, looking back and forth between us, rubbing her hands together. "I hear the cupcakes are
awesome
."

It was obvious from her exaggerated enthusiasm that she wasn't talking about cupcakes.

"Uh, yeah," Faye said.

Avery appeared behind Justine's shoulder and stepped forward to introduce himself to Faye.

"You must be Faye," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Avery. I belong to this one," he said with a grin, pointing to Justine. "Nice to finally meet you. I've heard all about you."

"Only good things," Justine said, putting her hand on Faye's arm to assure her.

"Oh..." Faye said, looking nervous again.

"We'll let you two grab your goodies," Justine said with a wave of her hand. She turned to Avery, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Want some wine, sweetie?"

Avery nodded. "Nice meeting you," he said, extending his hand again. "I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

Faye gave a stiff nod as she took a sip of her wine.

Once Avery and Justine had moved toward the wine, Faye turned away from me to face another cupcake display. I sensed something was wrong, but I didn't know what it was.

I decided to make pleasant conversation to take her mind off whatever was making her anxious. Growing up with my high-strung sister, I was pretty good at recognizing nerves and soothing them. Talking about trivial things with Kimi usually calmed her down. So I tried that with Faye. But she stayed stiff and anxious.

She reached the front of the line and picked up her sample, not even waiting for me as she turned away, heading for the next table as she bit off part of her sample.

"How is it?" I asked, anxious because my usual tactics weren't working.

"Good," Faye mumbled through her bite. "I like the orange zest in the frosting."

Eager to have something else to talk about, I put my sample in my mouth. When the zest hit me, I raised my eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

"That
is
good."

Faye looked around, distracted. I was about to cave and ask if something was wrong when she turned to me, a serious expression on her face as she leaned close to me and hissed, "Does Justine know?"

"About what?"

"About… us."

I felt myself bottleneck with guilt. I had talked to Justine about Faye on many occasions, not realizing I was outing her. I wanted to be honest, but I knew Faye wasn't going to like the answer. "Yeah."

"And Avery?"

"I mean… she probably told him."

Faye continued surveying the busy festival around us. "How much does she know?"

"Not too much," I said, fibbing. "She's trustworthy."

Faye gave a distracted nod.

Curious if Faye had meant what she said about no one knowing besides the girls she'd been with, I asked a delicate question.

"Do you have anyone you talk to about it?"

"Nah," Faye said, brushing the question off. "I'm fine."

And though I was pretty sure Faye was uncomfortable with Justine and Avery knowing, I decided that if she was brushing it off at the moment, I would let it go until it came up again.

But I kept a close eye on Faye's nerves as we meandered around the festival and tried samples. We tasted a few atrocious attempts at savory cupcakes and agreed that sweet was always best and that chocolate should always be paired with a bit of sea salt.

Once we'd seen most of what was inside the building, I gave Faye a smile and tilted my head toward the exit. She seemed to exhale in relief, despite the fact that I hadn't so much as touched her arm the whole afternoon. There was no way that anyone at the exhibition had known we were more than friends based on our body language. Even though I was drawn to her as forcefully as I'd even been drawn to anyone, her comfort came first.

Once we were outside, I asked if she wanted to walk along the pier. It was a nice day and the water was a beautiful gray-blue. But she shook her head, eyes darting around to remember where we'd parked. So I tucked my hands into my pockets, smiling to reassure her. I wanted to hold her hand more than anything, to feel its warmth in mine. But I couldn't, so I closed my fists and told myself to be patient.

All the questions Justine had brought up were burning hotter now. Was I going to be able to date Faye in secret long-term? What would I say if someone asked if I was single? What would
she
say?

There was a part of me that liked being with Faye in secret. It made our relationship feel precious, bordering on sacred. She had a way of gazing into my eyes when we were naked together that made me feel like she knew everything inside me and loved everything she saw. That gaze meant everything to me because it stood in place of the words she was too scared to say.

But the memory of that gaze didn't make my hands any warmer.

I woke up, startled by the harsh rattle of my phone against the wood of my desk. The adrenaline of being jolted awake paired with the chilly air in the room made me shiver as I reached for my phone to silence it. I preemptively prepared myself to see Faye's picture on the contact, assuming she'd claim she was worried that I hadn't replied to her text the night before. I wasn't ready to talk to her yet though. Didn't she get that? I thought I'd made it clear by the way I'd left her car.

But I was surprised to see Kimi's contact photo on the screen instead. Prodded by sisterly guilt, I answered the call, not bothering to mask the coarseness of my sleep voice.

"Hello?"

"Morning!" Kimi chirped.

"Morning," I grumbled.

"Did I wake you up?" she asked.

I wasn't convinced she was unaware. She knew we had a three hour time difference.

"Sorry, I'm on my second coffee break and was thinking we hadn't talked in a while. I didn't realize you slept in so late.”

"It's seven thirty," I frowned.

"And you work at nine, right?" Kimi said.

"Yeah, so I don't have to be up for another half hour," I whined.

"Sorry," Kimi said. "Want me to call back later?"

Figuring I was already awake, I sat up, feeling my muscles groan as I did.

"It's fine," I said, throwing in a dramatic yawn. "We can talk now."

"Okay!" Kimi said. "John and I were thinking of coming to visit sometime soon. Would you be up for a visit from your sister and her fiancé?"

"Of course. I mean, our apartment can't accommodate two more people, but — did you say
fiancé
?" I asked, suddenly alert.

"Yes!" Kimi shrieked. "He proposed last night!"

I felt my heart speed up in excitement. I was so happy for Kimi. She loves John even if he is as interesting as watching paint dry. I didn't have to marry him, so I was happy that Kimi was happy. I honestly was.

"Congratulations!" I cheered. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Thanks!" she said, her voice squeaking with excitement. "I'm so happy.
So
happy."

"Aw, Kimi..." I said, picturing the way her face lifted from its usual serious expression into a girlish smile when she was excited. I'd seen that look only a few times, but I knew she was wearing it now. "Do mom and dad know?"

"Not yet," she said. "I wanted to tell you first. I know we're not as close as we were when we were little, but it just seemed like something I should tell my sister first," she said. She sounded almost sheepish, as though she wished we were closer.