"Okay everyone," Miss Crystal announced to the rest of the class. "I have the room assignments for this weekend. Remember, it's four to a room and two to a bed, so listen up. In room one, we have Emma, Ava, Hannah, and Lilly. In room two, it's..."
I never heard the rest. I was going to be sharing a room with Hannah. Also, since Emma and Ava had been practically joined at the hip since elementary school, there was a pretty good chance I was going to be sharing a bed with Hannah. What's the big deal with that, you ask? She seems like a perfectly nice person. Well, in case you haven't picked up on it yet, I think Hannah is a very special person. She's the kind of person who can light up a room with her smile. She's the kind of person who can make me laugh when I want to cry. She's the kind of person who makes my heart race when she's near me. In short, I have a serious crush on Hannah Miller.
So, let's recount once again just to catch up. I, a lesbian, am going to be spending two nights sleeping in the same bed with a girl I have the hots for. A straight girl.
"Hey, roomie! Isn't it great?"
I nearly jumped out of my skin when Hannah came over to hug me. How does she always smell so good in dance class?
"Y-yeah," I said, forcing a smile. "Great."
"Y-y-y-yeah," she teased. "Seriously, though, be prepared. I like to cuddle."
Oh dear lord.
***
Myrtle Beach was about a three hour drive from home. As usual, I spent the majority of the trip in the back seat of my parents' car streaming music through my headphones. No buses for the dance team. It's not like we were anything important like football or anything. After helping me get my luggage to my room, my parents headed to their own room so the dancers could have our "bonding" time. I suspect my parents used the opportunity of a weekend with their own hotel room for some bonding of their own, but let's not go there. Ew.
Step one of bonding time was a team dinner the night before the big competition. We all walked, though I guess I technically hobbled, to a local burger place a block from the beach. That's right, burgers. Don't think these skinny bitches get by on salads. Dancers gotta eat!
I've got to admit, dinner was really fun, and I did actually feel closer to all the girls afterwards. We see each other every day at school, but classes aren't exactly conducive to socialization. Even lunch tends to be filled with as much cramming for the test next period or finishing up last night's homework as sharing time with your peer group. Hanging out in a less formal setting like a loud, crowded restaurant was a great way to decompress and got everyone to open up. On the walk back to the hotel afterwards, we even spontaneously broke into one of our dances on the sidewalk, then laughed when a rubbernecking bicycle rider almost ran into a tree. When the light started to change at the crosswalk, a couple of the girls actually picked me up and carried me across the street while Hannah held my crutches out in front of the stopped cars like riot police holding back an unruly crowd. I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe.
Back in the room was more of the same, just with smaller groups. Now, I know guys want to believe it's all pillow and tickle fights in our underwear, and that's just not the case. However, it is a lot of stuff we'd be embarrassed to do around guys. Imagine faces covered in skin cream and Heads Up! on cell phones and you're a bit closer. I gotta say, though, if you ever have a chance to be a fly on the wall while Hannah Miller tries to act out movie titles without speaking, you should definitely do it. It is hilarious and, yes, often sexier than it sounds.
Eventually, though, Ms. Vicky put an end to bonding time. We were here for a competition after all, and we needed sleep if we didn't want to suck. For the others in the room, lights out time was met with disappointment. For me, it was a mixture of both excitement and fear. I was about to sleep with Hannah.
Now, you might think this problem would have come up before. I mean, it's not like I spent 18 years on this planet and never had a sleepover. Of course I had. I even shared a bed with another girl, plenty of times. It's just that I'd never had feelings for that girl before. I didn't even realize that I was gay until recently, and it's not like I can't share a bed with someone without wanting to fuck them. It's just, you know, Hannah. This was a girl I had actually fantasized about. This was a girl whose face had filled my mind when my fingers filled my pants, and I was about to be pressed up against her in the dark for 8 long hours. And she told me she wanted to cuddle! There was a part of me that wanted to show her everything that cuddling could be. A part of me couldn't wait to see what her body felt like against mine, to find out which parts were firm and which parts were so, so soft.
The rest of me was acutely aware that Hannah would NOT be into it the way I would. That part quietly reminded me of what a violation it would be for me to get my joys on some unsuspecting, innocent girl. It whispered of the hurt I would cause her and the embarrassment that would follow when everyone realized what I had done. What I was.
I just couldn't do it. I couldn't be the girl who would do that to someone who didn't want it. So, while everyone else climbed into bed in their short little sleep shorts and t-shirts, I decked myself out in full on pajamas. I couldn't see a way out of sharing the bed, but the least I could do was make sure there would be no skin to skin contact. I got into bed first, facing away from Hannah's side, and got as far from the middle of the bed as I could without falling off. When Hannah climbed in, though, she immediately snuggled up right against my back and spooned me like I was a body pillow. I could feel her legs against mine, her firm little breasts on my back, her warm breath against my neck.
"Come here, roomie," she said. "It's cold in here."
Not for me it wasn't.
***
I woke up to the sound of a hair dryer. This was performance day for the dance team, and my roommates were already getting ready. Hopefully they all got more sleep than the few fitful hours I did. After a while, I had decided to just relax and enjoy Hannah holding me. After all, it's not like we were doing anything wrong. Girls sleep together like this all the time. Plus, she was holding me. It's not like I was molesting the girl. It didn't mean anything. We're just friends snuggling, sharing our warmth, huddling together against the dark. It wasn't sexual, just intimate. Close. Warm. Comfortable. Her arm draped across my stomach. She could easily move it just a bit higher, cupping my breast. Or lower.
Boom! Awake again.
Eventually, Hannah had roller over to her other side. She tugged me gently, silently asking me to hold her the way she had held me. I resisted, feinting sleep. I swear I heard her whimper in disappointment, but maybe I was just hearing what I wanted to hear. We spent the rest of the night back to back. I dozed off and on, but kept thinking about how easy it would be to just roll over, wondering how much I could get away with while she slept. What if my hands were to accidentally wander? What would she feel like beneath my hands?
So, yeah, not much sleep for me.
Showering helped to wake me, as did the food Ms. Crystal brought to our room. Also, even though I wouldn't say I still get nervous, exactly, there is still a bit of a rush the day of a competition. That's how I knew I'd be able to dance on my sore ankle. The adrenaline would numb the pain until after the performance was over. That's when it would start to hurt.
If you've never been to a dance competition, here's what it's like. A bunch of girls dressed in outfits their fathers would never let them wear anywhere else sit in a room, hallway, or any available open space where they won't get stepped on, put about 10,000 bobby pins in their hair, apply way too much makeup, stretch, snack on sugary foods, practice turns, back bends, and acrobatic tricks, and try to find some mental focus while overly loud music blares through a wall. You run over a routine in your head that you've spent literally months practicing and perfecting, making sure you remember everything, listening to your teacher's reminders of the last minute changes in the choreography so you don't turn left the way you've been doing for six months and instead turn right like you decided yesterday would be easier or just look better. Your parents spend hundreds if not thousands of dollars on training, costumes, entry fees, and travel. Finally, you're back stage. The number assigned to your dance comes up on a screen, so you bite your nails backstage, waiting for your turn. Then, they announce the name of your song, you walk up on stage and, three minutes later, you're done. Six months of practice, three minutes of performance, one shot to get it right. And then you wait. You wait for everyone else to get their three minutes. You wait for someone to tally the judges scores. You wait while every single group gets their grade, or "adjudication" in dance terms, and receives their ribbon or trophy. Finally, the overall high scores are announced, pictures are made, and everyone goes home.
We received double titanium adjudications, by the way, and just missed placing in the overalls. Not bad for an academic school going up against actual dance studios. Ms. Crystal gave us all hugs and we all plastered smiles on our faces while our parents took pictures. Then we all went back to our rooms, cleaned off our makeup, pulled down our hair, and changed into real clothes.
By this time, my ankle was really throbbing. We were done for the weekend, so we had nothing but free time now. Several of the girls, including my roommates decided to go down to the boardwalk, take in the sights, and ride the skywheel. I told them I didn't feel up to it. They all looked very sad, said it wouldn't be the same without me, and then took off to have their fun.
As much as I enjoy being with my friends, I was actually relieved to see them go. My emotional turmoil from the sleeping arrangement with Hannah had led to some altogether more physical turmoil between my legs. In short, I was horny. Plus, we still had one more night together. I was hoping maybe a little me time would take the edge off and make it easier to get through the night.
I laid back on the bed and let my mind wander. Here in my imagination, I could let go of the guilt my feelings awoke in me in the real world. In my mind, I couldn't overstep any boundaries or hurt any feelings. There were no whispers behind my back, no looks of revulsion or shock. I imagined Hannah in our dance. As beautiful as she is standing still, she's simply breathtaking in motion. The way her body moves in rhythm to the music, the way she stretches through every movement, elongating and undulating, in a costume designed to display every line, every curve. After last night, I could do more than just see her in my mind's eye. I could actually imagine what she might feel like. I knew how warm she was, how her soft skin enveloped the firm muscles beneath, what her breath felt like on the back of my neck.
