Alison liked to be five minutes early, whereas Beth, apparently, preferred exact punctuality. So she had to wait five minutes beside her mother's silver sedan before the door across the street snapped open. Beth Childs jumped down her front step like a little girl and then mindfully looked both ways before crossing the street.
"Hi, Alison."
"Hi."
Beth walked around to the passenger side and opened up the door. "Ready to go?"
"What, you want me to-to drive?"
"'Swhat we're here for, isn't it?" shrugged Beth, swinging herself in the passenger seat,
Alison sat down very stiffly, feet tightly tucked under the seat so as not to touch any pedals, and clamped her hands down on the wheel.
"Okay," said Beth calmly, "Here you have the gas and the brake..."
***
Alison had not wanted to learn how to drive. She was going to be an actress and live in a big city: she could just "take a GD taxi" as she had informed her mother. And then, fresh out of her freshman year, she hadn't been accepted to the summer program she had been hoping for. "Try next year!" said all her professors. "Freshmen never get in." So for the interim three months (three months!) she was stuck in Scarborough, living in her mother's house, under her mother's rules. And one of those rules was: learn to drive. If possible, do it for free; hence Beth Childs across the street.
They hadn't spent any time together since they were seven, on the same soccer team. Then Beth went to public school and ran for the track team and Alison went to private school and struggled through honors classes. Beth went running every morning, and Alison would see her before school, doing her warm-up stretches in a sports bra and little shorts. Their mothers liked to trade gardening tips, so she knew that Beth was planning on going to police academy and, according to her mother, "frequently disrespectful."
***
"Okay, Ali, start slow-can I call you Ali?"
"My mother calls me Ali."
"Alison, then." Beth laughed. She had a low, pleasant laugh, and her eyes lit up when she smiled-hazel eyes.
Stop. No. Drive. Alison steeled herself and turned the key in the ignition. Her knuckles were white on the wheel.
"Jesus, Alison, you're so tense," said Beth, putting her hand on the other girl's shoulder. "You need to be loose."
Alison shied away from Beth's touch and shot her a dirty look. With a muttered, insincere apology, Beth put her hands firmly in her lap.
"Drive on."
With a jolt, the car started, rocketing unsteadily down the driveway, teetering around the corner, moving on down Black Oak Drive. "Doing good," said Beth happily, rolling down her window.
Alison shot her a quick sidelong glance before turning her gaze back to the road, just in time to bump into a garbage can. "Holy-shoot! Who left that in the middle of the road?"
Beth was laughing silently, shoulders gently shaking, and Alison wanted to smack her, or kiss her. No. Wait. Where did that come from?
"You're distracting me," she snapped.
Beth tried not to laugh, choked, and laughed even harder. "I'm distracting you?"
Alison blushed furiously.
***
"Baby you can drive my car...I guess I'm gonna be a star..."
Over the last two weeks, Alison had gotten better at ignoring her instructor when necessary, whether she was making smart remarks or just letting her loose hair blow across her face. (Why wouldn't she tie it back? Why was it so distracting?) The singing was a new one, however. Beth was singing the one car-related song she could think of, slightly off-key, on repeat. She was really hamming it up too, making all kinds of faces.
"Do you want me to crash?" asked Alison with a melodramatic sigh.
"Haha. Try coming to a gradual stop instead, you're very irregular with the brakes."
Alison felt for the pedal and slammed on it, nothing gradual about it-and unfortunately it was the wrong pedal. The car leaped and took off like a startled animal, barreling full-tilt down the sleepy suburban road. A few kids, scrambling for a soccer ball in the street, dove for cover.
"The brake, Alison, HIT THE BRAKE!" screamed Beth, but her pupil's mouth was formed into a perfect O, her fingers locked around the steering wheel; she looked catatonic.
Beth tried to maneuver her own foot onto the brake and then, as they sped past a row of privet bushes, she gave the wheel an almighty wrench, turning and plowing straight into the hedge.
She sank back into her seat, breathing heavily as she pushed her hair off her face. "Holy shit. Holy-shit."
Alison gradually unstuck her hands from the wheel and thumped back in her chair as well. Beth's swears turned into laughter, and Alison eventually joined her, with a slightly hysterical note. They faded off into sighs, hearts still racing, gazing out the windshield at a view of crushed greenery.
Finally, Beth broke the silence. "I'll drive us home, yeah?"
"P-please."
Beth got out and walked around the car while Alison clambered across from driver's seat to passenger's.
They were quiet on the brief ride home, and it was only when they were sitting in the Hendrix's driveway that Beth spoke again. "Can I ask you something?"
"Okay."
"Who's Donnie?"
Alison frowned.
"You mentioned him the other day. Sorry...you don't have to-"
"No, it's fine," Alison broke in. "Donnie's my ex-boyfriend."
"Oh."
"Mmm. He broke up with me about a week after I got back from college. He said long-distance wasn't working."
(I'm here now, Alison had protested. You'll leave again soon, he had rejoined, and anyway, you've changed so much. You want to be an actress? She had wanted to cry, but she wouldn't in front of him, so she had said, stiffly, I'm not in control of the muse, Donnie.)
"Do you have a boyfriend?" asked Alison, shaking herself out of her reverie.
Beth laughed. "I haven't had a boyfriend since Paul in ninth grade," she said, "-that's when I figured out I was gay."
"Oh." Oh. Beth was gay? Of course Beth was gay. Obviously. "Okay."
Beth was watching her closely, but she smiled and looked away, pretending to be absorbed in Aynsley Norris, who was taking out her dog one house down from Beth's.
Aynsley was giving them a strange look, so Alison hopped out of the car and went in.
***
"Oh my god, drat, holy cow, I can't do this."
"Yes, you can," said Beth in a bored voice. She had her feet up on the dashboard and was picking at her nails.
"I can not drive in the rain, Beth!" said Alison shrilly. "I willslip and crash!"
Fat raindrops were, indeed, splatting on to the windshield, but the streets were barely wet.
"Stop being such a baby, Hendrix." Then, seeing Alison's outraged look, "What? You'll have to drive in the rain eventually."
Alison, with a very cross expression on her face, pulled over into the community parking lot.
"I'm going to wait it out," she announced.
She had good timing; the rainfall had become heavier and heavier until it started pouring. Only gray and green blurs could be seen through the windows.
"You know, Alison," said Beth quietly, "you don't really need any more lessons."
"What?"
"You could get your license. I think you're ready."
Alison shot her a sidelong glance. "No, no, I'm really not ready."
Beth shrugged.
"Anyway," said Alison, barely louder than the splatter of the rain,"I like having lessons with you."
"I live across the street," said Beth with a small smile, "It's not like you're never going to see me again."
"Mmm."
"We can do stuff together. I'll take you to my favorite diner."
"Sounds good."
"We can go to the movies."
"Okay."
"We can go running together."
"Mmm, no."
"Fine. We can hang out in parking lots together."
"Okay," said Alison, laughing.
"So, just to be clear," said Beth with a bit of a smirk, "the only reason you don't want to get your license is so you don't have to stop taking lessons with me."
"No," said Alison. There was a bit of leaf being washed down the windshield, and she was focusing on it intently. "But, I mean, I like you."
"Good," said Beth. "I like you too."
Alison tore her gaze away from the leaf to look at Beth. Her lips were quirked into a half-smile (they were very nice lips) and her eyebrows were a little raised (they were very nice eyebrows).
"I'm not-" Alison started, and then stopped, because she was.
"Not what?"
She could see her reflection growing in Beth's eyes.
"Never mind," she whispered, and then she finally bridged the distance-it had been years she had waited-and they were kissing, lips touching, hands touching, fingers twining. Kissing Beth was like drinking champagne-it made her lips fizz and her head spin.
Oh.
They broke apart, hands still touching.
"Okay," said Alison, breathlessly, stupidly.
"Just okay?" said Beth, with her trademark smirk, just a hint of real insecurity.
Alison didn't say anything-she just leaned in again.
This time, they made more contact-Beth tentatively draping her arms around Alison's shoulders, Alison shyly putting her hand to Beth's face, thumb to cheek. Like an inexperienced swimmer moving into new waters, ginger.
Beth whispered something against Alison's lips, probably a swear, and Alison smiled, planting tiny kisses along Beth's cheekbone.
I have spent nineteen years of my life not doing this, thought Alison. I have wasted nineteen years.
But nineteen years of nothing, she thought, was worth two weeks of Beth.