A blue-jean clad Rosanna Romero lay on her bed, eyes closed, hands clasped behind her head, a faint smile playing around the corners of her lips. She was reliving her evening's activities—well, mainly one activity. She and Anna had enjoyed some fairly intense kisses and caresses during the past months, but this evening she had returned a definite lover. They had "gone all the way". It had been a first for both of them and, as any first time, it would not or could not ever be forgotten.
As Mozart played softly on her stereo, Rosanna relived the exquisite moments and her body warmed with excitement all over again. She picked up the phone and called Anna to find out if she were feeling something similar.
It was no small wonder that her mother, Carla Romero, a Pediatrician, had asked her why she was glowing and seemed so happy. Carla knew that the third degree would not work on Rosanna. Her daughter was, by nature, a quiet introspective person who would only be drawn out when ready, if at all. And she had become even more taciturn since the death of her father, Antonio, two years earlier. Carla had been able to heal Rosanna’s physical aches, but was unable to get Rosanna to speak to any of her colleagues in psychology. Rosanna had simply sat there in sullen silence. Finally, Carla had relented and ceased what Rosanna had called the “torture by talking” sessions. In truth, it had been extremely difficult for Carla herself to move on since that tragic day. She’d had a series of casual, mostly unsatisfying affairs, but had not found anyone who came within an inch of her Tony. They had been each other’s soul mates. As many before her, she wrapped herself up in her work and her daughter. Fortunately, her practice had allowed them to live a comfortable life—one less thing to worry about. But she always worried about her Rosanna.
Anna Martin had been admiring Rosanna for four months. She was new to Liberty High and was scouting for prospective friends and partners. She found herself in the same math class with Rosanna and the dark-haired beauty had caught her eye and her imagination. She had conjured many scenarios in which they met, talked, became friends and possibly engaged in other activities. Her fantasies had become so powerful that she was forced to satisfy herself on a nightly basis to relieve her growing tension. Anna became almost obsessed with luring Rosanna to her. She attempted to start a conversation with her several times after class, but that Casey Deans was always waiting outside the classroom door and they strode off down the corridor to their next class while Anna stood fuming in frustration. Those two were practically inseparable. If Anna hadn’t known that Casey was a boy-toy, she would have sworn that she and Rosanna were more than friends.
Anna was a perky brunette, under five feet tall, well-developed young woman who had known early on that she was attracted to other girls. Rather than be ashamed and fearful, she wore her sexuality with pride. Fortunately, she was in an artistic school, which was accustomed to the eccentricities of its students.
In a moment of genius, Anna realized that she had a perfect opportunity to talk to Rosanna every day, and she hadn’t known why she had not thought of it sooner. No matter. She was going to have Ms. Rosanna Romero. She would talk to Rosanna before class started. Rosanna was always early. Her mind and eyes focused on her math book. She appeared to be copying every example.
The next day, Anna woke in a state of near frenzy,. She stood in front of her closet deciding on what she considered the perfect outfit. She chose a red cashmere sweater which had been given to her for the holidays. She wore body-hugging black pants and boots with a small heel. She didn’t want to trip and fall on the ice just for vanity’s sake. She put on her usual light makeup, looked in the mirror and pronounced herself ready.
“That sweater looks great on you, Annie,” her mother, Andrea, commented.
“Thanks mom. I hope a certain someone thinks so,” replied Anna as she flew out the front door. The day was brisk and cold, but Anna’s excitement kept her warm all day.
Anna walked into the dull room where they had math—not her best subject, but she had been able to catch up with the lessons. She spotted Rosanna sitting in her usual seat on the far side of the room, her nose buried in her book, her bangs falling forward. Anna’s heart beat out of control and she was dismayed to find that her stomach was beginning to feel a bit queasy. She grabbed her middle, trying to massage the unwanted feeling away.
She had prepared a speech that she hoped would begin:
“Hi. I’ve been noticing you.” And Rosanna would reply in her sultry low tones: “I’ve been noticing you noticing me.”
Anna knew it was really corny, but, after all, it was a fantasy, and they could be as gushy as you wanted. What she actually said, though, was not the stuff of fantasies but was more suited to a medical drama.
“Oh, I think I’m going to throw up!” She put one hand to her mouth and the other out in front of her as if reaching for a place on which to lean.
Rosanna jumped up, grabbed Anna by the arm and half dragged her to the bathroom where she proceeded to be horribly ill. What the hell had happened? Had she been that nervous or had the damned sandwich meat been stale? Her mom was so bad at checking on the life of the food in the fridge. She was too busy painting. When Anna felt the abdominal spasms subside, she left the stall. Now she had a wicked headache, but that she could handle.
“I’m so sorry,” Anna said weakly. She moved to the sink, washed her face and rinsed her mouth with cold water and searched blindly for the paper towel dispenser. Rosanna handed her a few sheets of the brown, rough paper.
