If Mitch noticed my embarrassment she didn’t show it, instead just nodding towards the locker rooms. “Let’s hit the showers so we can watch the varsity matches.”
We did just that, and once we were dressed we headed back out to the stands. A few of the girls were already gathered, but I pointed to Ethan, who was sitting half way up on the far end. “I’m going to sit with Ethan. You want to come with me?”
Now, Mitch isn’t good at hiding her emotions, but I’m not the best at picking up on things like that, either. Nevertheless, there was still an obvious discomfort in her face as she wrestled with the decision.
“No, I think I’ll sit with the others. Enjoy Mr. GQ.” She failed to keep the dislike completely out of her voice, and a part of me really wished I were going to sit with her instead.
Still, we had a good time, I guess. He bought me a soda and a pretzel with a cheese cup, which I love. We struggled in the doubles, actually losing the point going into singles, with Carrie and her partner dropping their set in a tiebreak. One of our other teams got dominated, and Coach Holiday was not happy at all. At least I didn’t have to bear the brunt of her displeasure.
The ladies responded, however, playing like gangbusters in the singles, only one of which was even competitive. Heather looked like she was favoring her elbow, which was taped heavily.
I was far more interested in the matches than I was in my company, unfortunately. I realized I was ignoring Ethan, so I reached out and took his hand. It was good, right? Holding his hand in the cool spring air, sitting close.
I tried to enjoy it, but I kept glancing down at Mitch, who was sitting with the other non-varsity players. She said something that made one of them laugh, and I felt a spike of jealousy. I wished I were down there. No. Stop that. Any girl would want to be on Ethan’s arm. I leaned in and gave him a kiss, trying not to pull away from the bare trace of stubble on his cheek.
After the match we went out to dinner, where I tried to steer the conversation away from tennis. I just wanted to get away from that whole world for a moment. I encouraged him to talk, and he told me all about the internship that he was going to be doing over the summer with his father’s company in Savannah. The food was really good, and I added a piece of tiramisu to my lasagna, all the while trying to psych myself up for what was coming after.
Ethan drove me back to his dorm, where he had a single this semester. He leaned over and kissed me. “Come upstairs?”
I wanted to say no, but I couldn’t. If I was going to be his girlfriend I had to do this. I had to learn to do this. So I went with him.
I’ll spare you the details, as I don’t like to think about them, but an hour later I was lying in his bed fighting back tears, trying to ignore the soreness between my legs. I’d gotten my lube on the first time, and it wasn’t so bad, but Ethan had wanted a second, and it had hurt.
He was asleep, finally. I felt a tear run down my cheek. It wasn’t his fault. He’d tried to cuddle me afterwards, talking about how next year he was going to get his own apartment, and we’d have a bigger bed. He’d told me how beautiful I was, and how much fun he’d had tonight, and I’d smiled at him and lied to his face about my own feelings regarding what we’d just done. It made me sick inside.
I wondered, is this what my mother did? Did she go through life pretending to love my father? I’d never seen them be affectionate towards each other, beyond calling each other ‘my dear’ or some such thing. But there wasn’t any joy in my mother’s eyes when she looked at my father, no tender touches when they thought no one was looking. Maybe I was like her. Maybe I was too cerebral, incapable of loving someone.
Ethan was a good boyfriend, and I knew he would be a good man someday. He really wanted to make me happy. But I couldn’t love him. Maybe, though, if he loved me enough, or if someone did, down the road, I could fake it enough to keep them happy. I could still be blessed with the family I wanted, and have someone to spend my life with. Someone I didn’t love. Eventually I managed to cry myself to sleep.
***
I was still an emotional wreck when I met up with Mitch on Sunday. I’d spent all morning trying to hide it, even putting on a little makeup to cover up the redness around my eyes. It had been good enough to fool Ethan this morning, but I should have known it wouldn’t work on my friend.
“Hey, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Look, I want you to try problems ten through fourteen. Let’s see how those go.”
She started working, but she wasn’t going to let it go. “We both know it’s not nothing. Here, is that right?”
I looked over her first problem, and she’d done it correctly. “Yeah, it is, keep going.”
“Ok.” She began again. “I know this has something to do with Ethan. And I can tell you’ve been crying.” She took a breath. “Cindy, does Ethan, I mean, is he, um, mean or violent?”
“No! God, no. I wouldn’t be with him for a second if that were true.”
“Ok. It’s just, you seemed scared of him yesterday, or something.”
For crying out loud, why did she have to be so bloody perceptive all the damn time? “It’s nothing. Let’s get back to this.” I pointed back to her paper, and we got through the rest of her work.
We followed our normal pattern of heading back to her dorm room to watch a few episodes of Buffy. We were in the second season now, and I was being introduced to the delicious evil of Spike and Drusilla. The sensuality of the pair was almost palpable through the TV. Why the hell couldn’t I ever feel like that?
I heaved a sigh, which I immediately regretted. Mitch reached around me and paused the episode. “Ok, what is going on with you? You haven’t been yourself all day.”
“I’m fine.” My voice cracked as I said it.
“No, you’re not, you’re upset. And I don’t like it when my friends are upset.” I was staring down at the mattress, tears threatening to slip free from my eyes. I couldn’t speak, but I felt her fingers gently lift my chin. “Hey, you can talk to me. I promise.”
I looked up into her striking blue eyes. I’d never seen them like this before. Usually they were sassy, or twinkling with laughter, or sometimes intense with joyful fire. But now they were just kind, and filled with concern for me. She brushed a hair away from my face. Her touch was so gentle, and I broke down crying. She didn’t try to shush me or ask again what was wrong. Instead she just pulled me close and let me sob on her shoulder.
She wrapped her arms around me and I did the same. I didn’t for one instant worry that I was letting a lesbian hug me. I just wanted my friend to hold me, because when she did everything felt better, and I let the misery flow out.
Michelle stroked my hair as I wept, and I eventually quieted down. I didn’t want to pull away. I just wanted to stay here, where it was warm and safe.
“Cindy? Tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s Ethan. I, um…” I searched for the words.
“You said he didn’t do anything, he didn’t hurt you. Is that not true?”
“Not on purpose. I mean, he took me to dinner, and then, um, he ah, asked me up. Last time I told him no, so I had to this time. God, it sounds so stupid out loud. You’re going to laugh at me.”
“No I won’t, I swear. Hey.” She turned my face towards hers. “Look, I know I can be a bit of a goofball, and that probably drives someone so naturally intense insane sometimes, but I can be serious. See?” She furrowed her brow, narrowed her eyes and thinned her mouth. “Serious.”
I laughed in spite of myself, and I couldn’t keep smiling.
Mitch took a breath, and her face really did get serious. “So he took you up to his room. You had sex?”
I nodded miserably, the tears flowing again as I spoke. “And it hurts, Mitch. It hurts so much, and I hate it. I have to use, um, stuff so that it’s even tolerable. And last night he wanted a second time and…” I broke down again, and she pulled me in close.
“I’m so sorry, Cindy.” She held me for a long time until I quieted down, finally whispering in my ear. “We’re going to figure this out, but I need to ask you something, okay? You have to promise to tell me the truth.” I nodded, and she looked me in the eye and continued. “Did you say no? Tell him to stop?”
I’d never seen her so intense, and if my answer had been different, looking back I don’t know what she would have done. “No, I didn’t. He didn’t rape me, Michelle. I mean, it kinda feels like he did, because I wanted him to stop, but he didn’t know. He had no idea. He’s not a bad person.”
Mitch’s eyes relaxed some. “Okay. So when you start, you just never get wet for him?”
I felt my cheeks burn as mortification knifed through all the other emotions I was feeling. “Mitch?!”
“Hey, if you want someone to help, you’re going to have to talk about it. When a woman gets aroused, her body produces lubricant. Does that not happen for you?”
I grimaced and shook my head ‘no’. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”
“Maybe. Does it happen when you masturbate?”
I gulped. “Usually, yeah. If it goes anywhere. I don’t do it much.”
“What do you think about?”
“Nothing. Just the feelings. My hands touching me. God, you’re not going to tell me I’m a lesbian, are you?”
She got an evil look on her face and popped her eyebrows a couple times.
“Mitch!” I tried to look outraged, but I couldn’t.
“Sorry, I’m sorry. Look, Cindy, just because you’re not attracted to Ethan does not mean you’re a lesbian.”
“But I am attracted to him! He’s handsome, and kind, any girl would be attracted to him.”
“You like him. That’s not the same thing. I like Jimmy. Doesn’t mean I want to have sex with him.” Mitch shifted on the bed. “Look, Cindy, you’re only nineteen years old. You don’t have to be having sex if you don’t want to. You don’t ever have to have sex if you don’t want to. Ever. Not with anyone, not for any reason.”
“But I do want to.” Or I wanted to want to. I wanted to make him happy.
Mitch looked like she didn’t believe me, and I didn’t blame her with how small my voice had gotten. “In that case, maybe you should talk to a doctor. And talk to Ethan. If he really cares about you, he’ll understand.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
Mitch smiled at me and nodded toward the screen. “Do you want to keep going?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Mitch pulled me into another hug, and God it felt good. She was so gentle. I didn’t pull away, instead just turning in her arms so my back was to her. She didn’t say anything, but she pulled a blanket around us before wrapping her arms around my middle as I leaned back against her. I closed my eyes and just felt her warmth. This was so nice, and, as she restarted the show, I knew that everything was going to be okay.