Authors: Jaime Maddox
“Every coach’s dream,” Alex smiled and sipped her water.
“How do we make cuts?”
Alex explained the process of selecting the varsity team. The players would have just one week to prove themselves before the final decision was made. Alex pulled her clipboard onto her lap and found the roster sheet. She began naming the players and they both graded them on several categories—speed, agility, ball-handling, shooting, rebounding, passing. Before they’d made it through a quarter of the list, Alex’s cell phone rang. She glanced at it and jumped from the couch. “It’s the pizza,” she informed Brit as she walked toward the door. “There’s no doorbell on the garage.”
She was back in a minute and placed the box on the coffee table. Carrying on their mission while they ate, by the time they finished the pizza they’d made it through the entire field of girls. Her hunger satisfied, and her job nearly complete, Brit found herself relaxing for the first time since the last time she spent with Alex. Easing back into the supple leather couch, Brit took the opportunity to study Alex. She was making notes on the clipboard, her head cocked as she bit her lip in concentration. A curl fell onto her forehead. Her long legs were tucked beneath her, and her strong hand gently cradled the clipboard on her knees.
Desire overcame her so suddenly that Brit gasped, and Alex looked to her, obviously as surprised as Brit. “You okay?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I just need to use the restroom.” Alex nodded to the appropriate door, and once safely behind it, Brit leaned against it, admonishing herself for that lapse in judgment. Alex Dalton wasn’t a woman who had relationships, she reminded herself. It was okay to think about Alex once in a while. That was harmless, and probably inevitable. But she couldn’t allow her fantasies to get out of control. While she was attractive and attentive and engaging, she was also a shark. She’d devour a little fish like Britain with a few snaps of the jaws and then spit out the leftover bones.
No matter how appealing she was, Alex was trouble. She could be her friend, but that was it. Friend, friend, friend, she told herself before exiting the bath.
She returned to the living room to find Alex talking on her cell. “It’s Tam,” she whispered.
“Tell her I said hi.” Although Brit knew she’d visited the mountains, she hadn’t seen Tam since the night they’d met.
Alex nodded. “Tam, Coach Dodge says hi.”
Brit heard Alex groan. “You tell her. I’m going to put you on speaker,” Alex announced.
“How are you?” Brit asked. “How’s Kim?”
Brit’s question led to a five-minute recital about the status of their relationship. They were dating. Taking it slowly. Getting to know each other. Sleeping together, with all of their clothes on.
Brit felt herself blushing from her head to her toes, and Alex seemed to notice.
“Uh, Tam. I think maybe this is TMI for Brit. She’s not your BFF just because you shared a drink at the Frogg Pond.”
Tam was silent for a second and then asked, “So, how was your first practice?”
Both Alex and Brit laughed at the sudden change in topic and told her about their team.
When they stopped talking, Tam wished them luck, then abruptly changed the subject again. “So, Brit, are you a film fan?”
“Film, like movies?”
“Yeah, like movies.”
“I love movies. Why do you ask?”
“How about coming to Rehoboth for the film festival? Since Kim and I are sharing a room these days, we have an empty one. Why don’t you join us?”
A few years before, Brit had discovered the program for the Rehoboth Beach Film Festival in the bathroom of her parents’ beach house. She was awed by the schedule, which included tons of lesbian and gay films, and late at night, as the house slept, she meticulously recorded the names of the movies she’d put on her watch list. She was able to see most of them on her computer, and while some were lacking, others were phenomenal. In the back of her mind she’d filed away the film festival as a destination to visit when she finally found a girlfriend. She supposed Alex, Kim, and Tam would do until then.
“I’d love it!”
Across the couch, Alex gave her a thumbs-up. “Tam, will you be in Rehoboth at all before then? Can you send me the program?”
Tam laughed. “Sorry. You’ll have to look it up on the Internet.”
Brit spoke up. “Yeah, they have the entire program on the website.”
“Have you been there before?” Alex asked.
Brit hesitated, feeling a little awkward. If these women only knew just how little experience she had in all aspects of life, they’d probably cancel the invitation to the beach and spend their time laughing about her. “Actually, no. I’ve never been. I just haven’t been able to free my schedule. But I usually check out the program, and then I watch the movies from home.”
“Yeah, us, too,” Tam said. “It’s hard to get time off from school, so Kim and I usually miss the first two days. If we’re lucky, we get to the beach on Friday and maybe see a late movie, but more often we just end up seeing one or two on Saturday. Then we rent the ones we want to see.”
They spent the next few minutes talking about movies from the previous year’s film festival. Brit had seen a number of them. She was pleased to see that she had another thing in common with Alex and her friends—they were all film aficionados. Not just the obvious lesbian titles, but classics as well. For a moment she allowed her mind to drift, and the image of Alex snuggled up beside her in her bed as they watched
Imagine Me and You
played on the screen in her head, filling the rest of her body with a flushing warmth. The desire to escape to the bathroom again suddenly overcame her.
Admonishing herself for these recalcitrant thoughts of Alex, she forced herself to rejoin the conversation. Alex and Tam hadn’t noticed her absence. After a few minutes more, they told Tam good night.
Alex leaned back into the couch and pulled a blanket onto her lap, and Brit knew she must be tired. It’d been a long day—seven hours of school, two of practice, and then another two rehashing the day. Brit was so charged by the events of the day, she hardly noticed the fatigue. Yet when she took a moment to sink into the leather couch beside Alex and relax, her exhaustion became evident, and she suspected Alex felt the same way. She was about to announce her departure when Alex confirmed her suspicions.
“If it wasn’t a school night, I’d invite you to stay and watch a movie,” she said as she reached across the space between them and placed her hand gently on Brit’s knee. “But, even if it wasn’t, I don’t know if I could stay up long enough to see the end. I’m beat.”
Alex seemed to melt into the couch, totally relaxed, yet her eyes sparkled, spilling over with joy, excitement, and unmistakable desire. Brit saw it, and she knew she should fear it, but it was becoming more difficult to deny the attraction. It was clearly mutual. But how did she explain to this woman with so much sexual experience that she had none? How could Alex, a woman of many flings, understand Brit’s desire for love and commitment?
She couldn’t expect Alex to change. A sexual relationship would be on Alex’s terms, with no candlelight dinners and bubble baths, or walks in the woods on snowy days. It wouldn’t involve romance; it would involve passion. It would be hot and heavy and physical, until it was over.
Looking across the couch at Alex, Britain wondered if she herself could change. Could she be happy with a fling, happy to have a little bit of experience under her belt? She smiled at the pun. She didn’t know if she could, but if anyone could motivate her, Alex surely could.
Brit refocused her thoughts as she heard Alex’s voice. Seeming to read her mind, Alex asked, “Are you dating anyone, Brit?”
Why was Alex asking? Brit’s heart was pounding as she felt paralyzed by Alex’s gaze. “Um, no,” she managed to get out, clearing her throat.
“Do you date a lot?”
Brit felt uneasy and suddenly self-conscious about her lack of experience with women. Once she’d been proud of it, an old-fashioned ideal in a modern world, but now it just seemed lame. “I’m rather particular,” she said at last.
A smile formed at the corners of Alex’s mouth. “Hmm. Do you have criteria? Like she has to have blue eyes or be taller than you?” Alex stretched out, pulling her legs up, and stuffed them into the space between the couch at Brit’s thighs.
Brit looked down to see if she could see something to explain the tingling that started in her leg and shot directly to her crotch. Then she looked up to see Alex grinning and realized Alex had given a description of herself.
Brit swallowed, then cleared her throat. She shifted on the sofa, but instead of alleviating the pressure on her leg, Alex slid farther down into the space left vacant by her butt. She stared across the room, focusing on the painting on the far wall. It was a portrait of a nude, probably a copy of a Renoir.
“Nothing like that,” she said after a moment, taking care not to go down the path Alex was guiding her toward. “There needs to be a spark, though. Something that inspires me. I don’t date just to get out of the house. I’d rather spend my time and my money doing something I enjoy rather than trying to make magic where there isn’t any.”
Alex nodded in support of Brit’s philosophy. “Makes sense. How’s it gone for you? Have you found much magic?” Alex’s voice was a soft caress to her ears, husky and sexy.
A moment of vital importance had snuck up on her, and Brit contemplated her response. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from Alex. She wanted her, she knew that. But what did she want after the night of passion that usually brought an end to Alex’s time with a girl? Could she sleep with Alex and move on, or would she need to have something more? She wished she knew the answer, but she didn’t. She suspected she would never discover it by thinking about it, though. She needed to talk to Alex about it. She decided to tell her the truth.
“I have found absolutely no magic. None.” Brit’s eyes bore into Alex’s, trying to convey the cryptic truth in her words. “Until now.”
Alex took a deep breath, a look of confusion on her beautiful face. She tilted her head and studied Brit carefully. “Exactly how many women have you slept with, Britain?”
Brit whistled softly as she rolled her eyes heavenward, pretending to think. Then she looked at Alex again. “None.”
Alex leaned forward, closing the space between them. “Oh, my God. You’re a virgin?”
Brit wasn’t sure what response she was hoping for, but she wasn’t prepared for this one. Alex might as well have said, “Oh, my God. You’re an alien.” Or “You’re a child molester.” At least she was focusing on her lack of experience, though, and seemed to have completely missed the other morsel of truth Brit had spoken. Brit tried to blow it off and make light of it, hoping to regain some of the dignity draining from her body. “Yeah, well, like I said, I’m kind of picky,” she said, and stood to leave.
Alex leaned back, the shock still evident on her face.
Brit needed to get out of there, and fast. “Hey, it’s late, Alex. Time for me to go home. Thanks for a great day.”
“Yeah, it was a great day,” Alex said as she stood and walked her toward the door.
Brit slipped into her coat and was halfway down the stairs before Alex even reached the landing. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Brit called over her shoulder, and as she walked into the cool night, she felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cool October air.
Clean Slate
P.J. wiped two sweaty palms on his jeans as he approached his boss’s office. For the past few months, any contact with The Man made him extremely nervous, and on this occasion it was doubly so. According to his calculations, his debt was paid, and he couldn’t be happier. He’d learned a big lesson in his dealings with The Man, and P.J. vowed to stick his nose in his books and keep it there. The life of crime was too stressful.
Since he’d been on his repayment plan, he’d been setting his alarm for five every morning and working before school, then for hours after school. Some nights he didn’t have a chance to begin his homework until very late, and with the college-prep curriculum he studied, laden with math and science, he felt like he was drowning. Fortunately, he caught on easily and could absorb most of what he needed simply by paying attention in class. If not for that, he’d be flunking out of high school.
Yes, he was happy to be done with this. He held his head high, feeling suddenly proud that he’d made the decisions he had and been able to start righting the wrongs he’d done. He’d even worked on a repayment plan with his papa. His knock was answered with an unfriendly growl, but The Man smiled when he saw it was P.J. who dared to disturb him.
“Little Man! Come in!”
It bothered P.J. that The Man referred to him as Little Man, that he seemed to think of him as his protégé. Following in his footsteps was the last thing P.J. wanted. Getting as far away from him as possible was his most immediate goal.
P.J. stood behind the chairs arranged before The Man’s desk, for he hadn’t been directed to sit. “Can I talk to you?” he asked.
“Of course. Tell me how everything’s going. School? How’s school?”
This line of questioning startled P.J. The only interest The Man had ever paid him was in angling for information, to learn how he might better use P.J. and his brother. And suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck stood as he wondered what The Man was thinking.
“School’s tough. I have some hard classes. And with work…well, not much time for studying.” P.J. smiled and shrugged to soften the impact of his words.
The Man’s eyes narrowed as he looked at him. “It’s a good thing you’re so smart, Little Man. Studying comes easy to you. It wasn’t like that for me. If it had been, I might have chosen another line of work. Anyway, what brings you in to see me?”
“I think my debt is paid. I calculated the percentages we agreed to, and with last night’s sales, it looks like we’re square.” P.J. handed him a spreadsheet filled with initials and dollar amounts, and after looking at it for a moment, The Man inserted the report into his shredder and waited while it chomped the paper to bits.
Then he looked at P.J. “You’re a smart cookie, Little Man. Why the fuck would you put this shit on your computer?”