Subclasses Ch. 07

"I love you, Beatrix. We are a better match than I dreamt possible. I hadn't known until now what a truly good romantic match feels like."

She stares at me for a long moment. Her eyes are wet, I notice, glistening. And then she lunges at me and gives me a more romantic, passionate, beautiful kiss than any ever produced in Hollywood.

* * *

"Well, that was unexpected," I say, lightheaded from the prolonged kiss. "Fantastic, but unexpected. It wasn't that good of a..." I search my mental thesaurus for the right word. "...soliloquy." Nice, I think, no one will ever suspect that I am a robot.

Beatrix's brow furrows. "You don't know how much what you said means to me, Sarah. You and I click, yes. The rest of the world and I ... really don't."

She shifts from straddling me to sitting sideways on my lap, arms around my neck.

"My family," she continues, "always teased me for the way my behavior would leap from one mood to another. They said they were teasing, but it hurt. They did stop, eventually, when I asked them to. I guess they hadn't realized I was self-conscious about it, but like, how couldn't I have been considering they'd mention it at least once a week?

"Then sometimes my parents and I would get into fights because they felt 'I couldn't take anything seriously.' I'd try to lighten the mood, I think, and they'd get upset. They'd call me 'manipulative'.

"This is what ended my last relationship. At first Amy seemed to like my 'unpredictability'. She liked the novelty of the surprise, I think. 'Which Beatrix is coming out today?' she'd ask. About six months in, I pulled my knees up in front of me on a seat in a restaurant. She said it was childish and that she was embarrassed to go places with me. Amy'd ask, 'Why can't you grow up?' I'd tell her, 'I don't know, this is just me,' and she'd say, 'Well be someone better.' Things deteriorated from there. Berating, nagging, yelling sometimes. It's not like we didn't have good times together, but the evenings that left me feeling happy decreased, replaced by the ones that left me crying as I drove home."

I hold her, remaining silent until I know she's finished, giving her encouraging squeezes, looks, and nods to indicate I'm still listening.

"I don't think Amy wanted to lose me, and I know, despite the treatment, that I didn't want to lose her. I think we did love each other. Amy could feel the chasm between us growing, though, and so she proposed. And hoping this might mend our relationship, I said yes.

"It was a secret thing. There was no ring, and it wasn't 'official', whatever that means. It was more a promise that we would get married when we were ready, after university. I only told my mom and Hannah, but I didn't use the word 'proposal', because I didn't want them to think I was crazy. God, sometimes I still feel like I'm crazy for saying yes.

"Obviously, things didn't get better; they got worse. Eventually, after one too many evenings entering my house in tear-streaked mascara, my mom sat me down and asked if I really wanted to spend the rest of my life with someone who so frequently left me feeling like this. After that, it was like a dam broke inside me. I told her everything. At the end, she hugged me tight, and said 'Maybe your fickle mood just isn't a good fit for her.' I know she was trying to be kind and parental, but her use of the word 'fickle' ... it pierced me. I felt like she was saying I wasn't good enough for Amy, that if I could just grow up, we could make it work, that we'd be right for each other.

"I broke things off with Amy a month later. It took her by surprise, because we actually had been getting along pretty well. To her, I'm sure it seemed like things were getting better, but I felt I had been walking on eggshells around her, and had been for at least six months. I was scared I'd embarrass her in front of our friends, and so I held myself back. I tried to be the girlfriend she wanted me to be. It was so stressful, and I didn't like who I was pretending to be. I never told her about my ability. How could I? She wasn't safe.

"That's my biggest fear with you. That you enjoy the novelty of my personality now, but in six months, I'll be too much for you. What you said though made me realize—or at least hope—that it's not the novelty for you. You like who I am, even when I'm childish. Even when I get horny in front of your friends and put you into potentially embarrassing situations.

"And on top of all that, you make me feel safe to make mistakes. When I forgot to turn your collar invisible and Ben saw you, I panicked inside. But then you were calm. Even if you hadn't found that you liked being seen with it, I know you wouldn't have yelled at me. We'd have discussed it, and that would have been the end of it. It would have pulled us together.

"It was initially just my gut feeling about you, when I first took you back to my room. I felt safer telling you about my ability than I did with the girl I had planned to marry. And so far, everything that's happened these two days has confirmed my instincts."

I pull her to me, holding her close with my left hand, while stroking her hair with my right. "I'm honored you feel that way about me. Truly, Beatrix. It's rewarding to hear I make you feel safe. It's something I've really worked on over the last several years."

We sit in silence for a few moments, Beatrix on my lap, her back supported by the arm of the chair and my hand, with which I gently stroke up and down.

"It does," I say, "sound like your mom was right about you and Amy. She was absolutely wrong about you being fickle, just right about you two not being a good fit. I know I'm biased and that I'm only hearing your point of view, but it seems like Amy has quite a bit of growth of her own to do before she can be in a healthy relationship. If she wants you to be someone other than who you are, that's on her. All people in a relationship must be able to be wholly themselves around the other, or the relationship simply won't last long. I should know. That's why my relationships all ended."

"Oooh, ominous," Bea teases, threatening to tickle me. There's that goofball I love so much. "I'd love to hear about it, but my stomach is rumbly. Do you want or need to discuss it now, or can it wait?"

"Yes, let's eat. That conversation isn't as pressing as it sounds. Things changed when I came out, and so the same issues won't apply to us."

* * *

Dinner was uneventful. Bea and I ate with the five other people of the Stack 6 posse who hadn't gone home for the weekend. We gabbed and joked and laughed, mercifully without a repeat of last night's libidinal shenanigans.

I do learn something new about Beatrix: Bea is a shameless, brazen flirt. With me, yes, but also with my friends, especially with Ryan and Jeff, the two gay dudes from floor two. In the past, I probably would have become a little jealous, possessive. With Bea, I feel secure. I know it's just banter, harmless fun. Bea wants to be with me; there's no competition. So why would I feel jealous? I can just sit back and enjoy the show.

On our way back to the stack, Erica, the gal who lives in the room next to mine, told me she really likes Beatrix. "And, by the sounds of it last night, you really like her too!" She winks; I flush.

Back in my room, I tell Beatrix, "I think you forgot to soundproof my room last night before we had sex."

She starts. "Yes, forgot. We'll go with 'forgot'." I roll my eyes at her. "What? It makes me hot to know that people can hear us." She shrugs.

"It's okay, but in the future could we restrict the audio audience to your dorm? I don't like to disturb people. Though, come to think of it, I've never felt disturbed before when I've heard people having sex, so maybe it's not a big deal. Even so, I'd rather the people I regularly hang out with not hear us, especially when there's a flogger involved."

"Yes," Bea says, "we can definitely do that. I might forget sometimes—honestly forget—so make sure to remind me if I do." I nod. "Now, let me finish beating your fine ass at Mario Party." I groan dramatically, then happily acquiesce.