A Girl Named Mitch Ch. 02

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.