Authorâs note: Warning! This story contains a mild drug reference. If this offends you, youâve been warned. We join the story again with Audrey Porter on the previous day. Unlike the previous two parts, this one will be in third person. This is my attempt at actual character development⊠sex included, some assembly required. :D
Phylicia was gone. She had apparently woken up first and left in a hurry from the house. Audrey sat up in her bed, struggling with this concept for a while. She also struggled with the fact that she had just had sex on that bed. Not only sex, but lesbian sex. Both, in fact, were a new experience for her. And now, for whatever trained expression she had on her face, inside she was a tornado of thoughts and questions.
The first and most obvious question was why. Why in the world would she want to be with a woman? She had liked men all her life. She had always expected to have a traditional wedding with all her family at a nice church in her home town. Doves would fly alongside their car after the ceremony. Family and friends would hurl rice into the air as she and her newlywed husband would laugh together and dream about their future. They would both enjoy a beautiful sunset for their honeymoon, in some tropical paradise, far, far away. Suddenly, all of that was impossible. Her father wouldnât pay for a gay wedding. She stopped thinking about that.
The second question, perhaps even more eluding, was how. How in the hell did she manage to seduce, or be seduced by, another woman? She couldnât even really remember how it all happened. One minute she was doing homework with a girl from the field hockey team. The next, she was in some lustful trance giving oral sex to this same girl. It didnât fit. It didnât fit at all. And now she had to make sense of it. She had no idea Phylicia swung that way. It was hard to tell just by looking at her. Perhaps, she thought, it was that way with all dykes.
Audrey shook her head. This was irrelevant. She was frustrated thinking about the situation, trying to rationalize it. With every problem laid a reasonable answer and explanation. Every situation you could dream up, you could also analyze it. That was how she thought. Or, at least, how she tried to think. Sometimes though, she thought, it was tougher. She didnât feel like thinking about it. But, she knew what she did feel like doing.
She stood up from her bed and stretched. No problem was so bad it couldnât be dealt with one way or another. She thought of how Phylicia might be handling it right now. How she might react if she was told that this whole mess was a big mistake. She would probably be very upset, Audrey thought. For a second, she imagined that Phylicia wasnât a lesbian, and that perhaps something similar was going on in her mind. The thought passed.
Outside, her butane lighter made its usual sound. Its blaze lit up the inside of the marble bowl; then followed with the usual sound of her breath, inhaling almost violently. It really was a beautiful pipe, she thought. Her cousin had bought it for her in Mexico. Its rigid tube was made to be the stem of a flower; the bowl portion was fashioned like the bloom. The workmanship on it almost made you forget what it was intended for. She was becoming more relaxed already.
Marijuana hadnât been part of her vocabulary for very long. Stuart had introduced her just last summer during a family camping excursion. Her cousin lived in Windsor and only visited one or twice a year with the family. During his stay, sheâd caught him several times in the little gully behind their house. At first he denied it, then tried to get Audrey to smoke after heâd admitted what he was doing. Of course she was reluctant at first. But eventually self-discipline gave way to curiosity.
Besides, it was fun to have a secret from everybody, as long as it wasnât being gay. She chuckled at that, and, for a second or two, pondered what her father might be angrier about if he ever found out. Suddenly the situation didnât seem so bad, and then, the familiar relief came flooding back to her mind all at once. She was lifted above her problems for now, except for ridding this awful smell. Concentrating hard, she stowed the pipe and remains into a plastic bag, then into a thermos.
Later that night, after dinner, and homework, she sat watching T.V. and remembered her mother for the first time that day. Clenching her teeth, she tried to concentrate on the commercial. To no avail however, this was tougher. Gently, she wept, thinking about what her mother might have said about her beautiful flower pipe.
The next day was gorgeous. The sun rose beautifully, cloudlessly. The morning was chilly and March still brought frost to the car windows and ran down the gutters of the house. The ground was frozen, and Audrey sat on her roof, watching. The sun rise was early, 6:22 AM. She wouldnât miss it. For some reason, the sun rise was important today. Her father was still off on business, and she figured sheâd be back inside before kids started to pass the house on their way to school. Some things were tougher.
She decided not to go to school, for better or worse. She still needed some time to think. This wasnât like her at all. She hated sitting around, and she hated being stuck even more. Usually the problem wouldâve unraveled itself in her mind already. Instead, her brain stammered. Now, she envied herself from yesterday, with her biggest problem being from chapter seven, somewhere in the mess of textbooks downstairs.
And, whatever it was worth, she thought after a time, Phylicia Spelman had given her an unclear lesson of EMF.
The sunrise came and went, and Audrey Porter descended her roof. Inside, she put on the kettle. For some reason sheâd be having cravings for tea. It seemed to fit now, she thought. And as she dipped into the living room to turn on the fireplace, she was startled by a familiar voice.
âYouâre up early,â her fatherâs heavy Norwegian accent filled the room. He sat on the wicker rocking-chair in the corner. Looking up from his newspaper, unrocking and silent, his eyes pierced into his daughter.
âFather,â she hid surprise, âI thought you werenât back until tomorrow.â
âI cancelled the last conference,â the important man turned his gaze to the fireplace, âI was able to catch a connecting flight last night. I was in early this morning.â He looked back to the paper and shuffled in his chair.
âWhyâd you do that?â Audrey usually didnât ask about the work.
âArenât you happy to have me home early?â His eyes remained locked on the politics section of the paper.
âYes, of course,â she replied lightly, smiling.
âHow did your test go the other day?â
âFine.â
âThatâs good Audrey,â his voice trailed off as he became suddenly more interested in whatever article he was reading. Audrey returned to the kitchen to attend to the water. Malachi Porter, who had married young, had his wife taken from him eight years after Audrey was born. His past and present life was practically a mystery to his daughter. He never told, and she never asked.
âIâm not feeling very well at all today,â she returned with her tea and sat down on the white loveseat.
âAh, youâre not sick,â he reassured her, turning a page.
âNo Dad. I think I really am. I was throwing up last night,â she lied. Audrey cuddled her tea against herself, reached for a blanket.
âWell if you say so,â he looked above his glasses at her, folded the newspaper, âIâm going to get ready. If Iâm lucky, I can get in a full day at the office.â He left the room with his paper, and headed upstairs to the shower.
Audrey finished her tea. She went to her room feeling inadequate. She half-slept the rest of the day. Early in the afternoon, she dreamt about Phylicia and her mother playing field hockey against her in the state tournament. She lost. Phylicia and her mother won. And her father laughed at her from the stands, smoking a flower pipe.
A 15-minute walk away, at roughly the same time, another girl was dreaming about Audrey. She held a vegetable and a hose-style shower head, and was very much awake. She was enjoying herself. And just as Audrey saw her father laughing in the stands of the state finals; Phylicia was climaxing, accepting, after a short ordeal, being gayâŠ
Another night passed. Before this though, Phylicia had spoken with her parents, Malachi had gotten in a full day of work, and Audrey had smoked another quarter bag. Just after dawn, clouds settled into the valley. The forecast was a rainy Friday. Phylicia woke a lot happier than she had the day before. Her parents would be distressed, she knew.
âItâs just, I donât know what it means,â she had said the night before, tearfully.
âThatâs fine honey,â her mother had taken her usual âconcernedâ tone; âwe donât expect you to. But weâre very happy you told us this.â Her motherâs brown wavy hair was the closest thing to looking like her daughter. And really, Phylicia had gotten her hair from her father anyway. Her mother was tall, and her body easily revealed the repercussions of childbirth.
âYes we appreciate it very much. We want you to know weâre always here for you, whatever problems you might be having. And, if you ever donât feel like talking to us, you can always spend a weekend at your dadâs house if you want, and talk to him.â This was Phyliciaâs motherâs boyfriend talking. Her parents had split two years ago. It had been relatively painless, and she actually like them better apart as it happened.
âYeah I know. Like I said, I just donât know what this means. Iâm not a total lesbian or anything, you know?â the words came awkwardly to her. She was no longer crying, âI just need to see where this is going with Audrey.â
She had felt much better after talking with Vince and her mother. They were understanding and supportive enough. And the more she thought about the situation lately, the more it made sense. Her attraction to Audrey was real. And as she remembered the fantasies she had as a younger girl, she realized that many of them involved envy of other girls.
A small complication was that she couldnât really place what turned her on about people in general. She still liked men. That was certain. She would always like men. But of the girls she liked and envied, she found herself strongly attracted to them. More thought about this had to be done later, she decided.
Phylicia was a little nervous as she left the house that morning. She wore contacts, and left her long, curly, light brown hair down. She decided to wear a light rose colored tank-top with white jeans and her very sleek black belt. Today was going to be a good day. Or, at least, it would be if she saw Audrey. Socks though, she would wear socks anyways.
A little ways away in her own house, Audrey Porter was ready. Sheâd made excellent time on her morning routine. And somehow, sometime during the night, her homework had been finished with painstaking effort. Efficient and deadly, today sheâd wear a dark grey long sleeve shirt and one of her typical black skirts. She packed her grey trench coat for the grey skies, couldnât be too careful. Black hair, brown eyes and grey clothing. No chopsticks today though, perhaps, just hairpins.
She strode out the door stoic and confident. The march to school was short, and hopefully the day would be too. With any luck sheâd be able to hand in her physics homework late with no trouble, and get this Phylicia business out of the way.
The day passed quickly in the beginning for both girls. They didnât see each other until the early afternoon, lunch time, when the girl in black happened to notice Phylicia standing further down the hall. Audrey moved up on her quickly. Standing behind her, she said, âPhylicia.â
âAudrey,â she said turning around, a little panicked, âIâm glad I got to see you today actuâŠâ she was cut off.
âIâm sorry,â Audrey said abruptly, âif you got the wrong idea from the other day.â Her face hid a deep pain. Phylicia could feel her heart sink. It felt like the muscle of happiness that had been gripping her brain so hard this past day, had suddenly completely let go, leaving her totally alone, and exposed to this new anguish.
âUmm, yeah. It was a bizarre night. Iâm sorry for leavâŠâ cut off again.