We went from just hitting around to playing a full match. Tiwana had improved substantially, shoring up that backhand that had been a weakness before and serving more confidently and smarter. But I’d improved too, and I took both sets. Afterwards we drove over to the local ice cream stand and sat at a shaded table.
“So what’s Georgia like?”
“Big. SO big. Any one of the buildings on Campus is twice the size of Marin.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t take much.”
“True. How about you? Good year?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s really starting to feel like my place, instead of my parents’, if you know what I mean. Every time they’d take me up there they would talk in this, like, secret language. But now I get it, like I’m really in the club. And mom and dad are ridiculous. Just like, beaming. They came to every one of my matches this year.”
I shook my head, feeling a little jealous. “My parents still haven’t come to see me. But then again that might be a good thing.”
Tiwana’s brow crinkled. “Why?”
“Because of who I’m playing doubles with. Short hair, won’t wear skirts, we call her Mitch.”
Tiwana covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my god. Is she gay?”
“Oh, yeah. Out and proud. She’s also hysterically funny and hugely outgoing.”
“So kinda like the anti-you.”
“Yeah. But she’s great. We’ve actually gotten really close. I coached her through her math class last semester. We’re rooming together next year.”
“Your dad is going to let you room with a lesbian?”
“My dad is letting me room with a girl named Michelle, who as far as he knows has a boyfriend named Jimmy, and whom he has never met. And I think it should stay that way.”
“You are just rooming with her, right?”
“Tiwana!”
She laughed and held up her hands. “Sorry. That’s on me. Illicit love affairs, and all.” She was blushing.
“What do you mean?”
She got real grinny, her eyes twinkling. “I’m dating a white boy from Old Dominion.”
“Seriously? Do your parents know?”
“God, no.”
“I think they’d be okay.”
“Maybe. He’d win them over eventually. He’s a sweetie.” She pulled out her phone, and we spent the next thirty minutes showing each other pictures. As we did, I noted how many of the pictures I’d taken over the year had Mitch in them, and also in how many of those she was touching me, and how similar we were in those shots to the pics Tiwana was showing me of her and her boyfriend.
Tiwana’s voice got serious. “Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you two? You know you could tell me if there were.”
I laughed it off. “No. That’s just how Mitch is, she’s really touchy-feely. With everyone. It’s just her way.” But I knew that wasn’t true. I mean, it was, she touched everyone, the girl was very free with her hugs and back rubs and such. But she didn’t sit casually with her arms around anyone but me. I wondered how hurt I would be if she did.
I shook the thought away as Tiwana and I planned out the next time we’d be able to sneak away to the courts. When Mitch called that night I was almost a little scared to pick up, since the questions Tiwana had raised were still swirling around in my head, but as soon as I answered everything was fine. She was just so easy to talk to, and the sound of her voice made everything okay.
***
And so the summer passed, agonizingly slowly. It was odd. I remembered when I was a kid the summer’s had gone by in a blink. Now I just wanted to get back to my real life in Athens.
The one thing that was an issue was move-in day. My father had taken a day off work so he could help me, since I still couldn’t afford a car, but it was paramount to my mind that he not meet Mitch. I was really nervous to bring it up with her, but as it was she took it like a champ.
“I’ll try to get in late. I’m driving so there shouldn’t be any issue. Just call me when the coast is clear.”
Sure enough, when my dad and I arrived Mitch’s half of the room was still empty.
“I was really hoping to get to meet this roommate of yours, Cindy.”
“You never met my last roommate. I survived that.”
“Your last roommate was randomly assigned. This one you chose. That’s the difference. It’s important to be able to work with all kinds of people, but those you choose to surround yourself with, you have to be more discerning.”
Years of practice allowed me to refrain from rolling my eyes. Dad loved his little mini-sermons, and it was best to just endure them. It kept him in a good mood.
“Yes, daddy.”
“When do you think she’ll be here?”
“She’s driving in from Tampa, so not till late.”
Eventually I managed to shoo him out the door with a hug and enduring a few more stern words about not compromising my ethics and morals. I went to the window and watched him walk out to the car and actually drive away before I sat down on my bed and called Mitch.
“Yell-ow?”
“He’s gone.”
“That’s good. ‘Cause if I have to drink any more coffee, I’m not going to get any sleep tonight.”
“You’re already here?”
“Yep, just down the road, friendly neighborhood Starbucks. Be there in five.”
I almost ran down to the parking lot to wait for Mitch. I knew she’d be driving a pickup, but I had no idea what it looked like. So I watched the incoming traffic, of which there was a lot, with an amazingly high percentage of trucks, I might add. Somehow I knew hers when I saw it, though. It was blue, a little muddy, and just so her.
I waved, and she was close enough for me to see the smile that spread across her face when she saw me. She was able to pull right up to the dorm entrance, and she stepped out of the cab.
“Hey!” I could feel my cheeks stretching into a huge grin of my own, and I found myself running to her. She spread her arms and I went into them without thinking twice. She just pulled me close and rocked me back and forth.
“God, Spencer it’s good to see you.”
I didn’t pull away, even though I was not the PDA type. She was so warm, and it felt like I was home. The hug lingered for a moment longer, and I could feel myself relaxing into it when she pushed me away. I almost said something to protest, but then I remembered we were outside the dorm with a dozen other students looking on, so I stepped away.
“Okay. Boxes?” I was flushed, and I knew it, but it was hot out. Mitch just nodded, that smile still on her face as she thumbed towards the back of the truck.
“Yup.”
Half an hour later we had everything up into the room and the two of us were unpacking. I’d been surprised how neat Mitch’s room had been when I’d seen it last year, but I wondered if it was that way because she’d cleaned for me. But that didn’t seem to be the case, as she carefully organized everything she put away.
“Finally.” Mitch stuffed her suitcase into the little closet. “We can relax. Pizza? My treat.”
“Absolutely.”
Just then there was a knock on the open door, and we turned to see Carrie standing in the doorway. “I’m in for that.”
Hugs were exchanged, and I noticed a significant difference between the way Mitch hugged Carrie and the way she hugged me. Well, we were better friends, I guess.
An hour later we had an extra large pepperoni and mushroom and an order of breadsticks. Mitch had managed to get the TV attached to the cable, and we had the night session of the U. S. Open starting.
“Who’s the women’s match?”
I squinted at the TV. “It’s Simone Halep vs. a new Russian girl, Baraskova, or something.”
Carrie was staring fixedly at the T. V. “She’s not Russian. She’s Ukranian. And she’s amazing. Have you seen her play?” We both admitted we hadn’t. “You’re in for a treat.”
The match started and it was fierce from the get go. Halep was more experienced, but Iryna Baraskova played with a youthful exuberance that made up for it. As they went to a third set, Mitch spoke up while Iryna was on the screen preparing to serve..
“I’m calling it. She’s gay.”
Carrie turned around. “She is not! And you couldn’t possibly know that. Besides, you say that about everyone.”
“No I don’t. Halep isn’t gay.”
Carrie looked back at the screen. “I don’t care if she is or isn’t. She’s an amazing tennis player. She’s gonna be number one in the world someday. And I like watching her play.”
I was sitting right next to Mitch, and she gave me a significant look Carrie couldn’t see, and I remembered what she’d said that one night about Carrie herself. I didn’t believe it, but still. I wondered if I’d ever be able to get a straight answer about the way she felt about me. She’d said she was always right, and since I wasn’t gay, she wouldn’t feel that way about me, so I guess it wasn’t an issue.
The match ended, Iryna pulling off the upset. That made Carrie happy, like really happy, and for a moment I wondered if Michelle was correct, that Carrie had herself a little girl crush. Not like it would matter, but it was something to think about.
Carrie went back to her room, and Mitch and I got ready for bed. “You want to watch the men’s match for a while?”
I grimaced. “Who’s playing?”
“It’s Federer vs. Brian Dabul.”
“Ugh. That’s going to be ugly. How about just an episode of Buffy instead?”
Mitch smiled and nodded. “Sure thing. Wanna come over here?”
I looked over at her while she stood up and loaded the DVD. She was wearing what she always did to bed, a pair of boxers and a tank top. I was fully covered in my cotton PJs. Still, it hit me that this was our room, no roommates to worry about coming back, no coach knocking on the door. It was just Mitch and me, alone, in a room, all night, together. And the weird thing is that I wasn’t nervous at all.