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.”
END CHAPTER ONE
**********
Thanks for reading rating and commenting! Also, a big thanks to Ash_legend and Rileyworks for helping edit. I always feel honored when you take time to comment, and they keep me going. And if you have any questions or more direct comments, please send me feedback.