A Girl Named Mitch Ch. 02

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?"