Find My Way Home
Chapter Three
Vanessa wasn't a lesbian. That wasn't her style, that wasn't her scene. She wasn't a barrio girl either, not anymore. She'd gotten away and she couldn't shake the past off fast enough.
She had big plans for herself. "Lesbian" was not among them.
So now she was lying flat on her back on the floor of her own apartment, listening to Nina's breathing from the bed above her and steaming silently. What the fuck was Nina doing, barging back in here with her rain-soaked clothes and her stories about "queer" groups (who even said that!) and her chaos of curls and her tears and her vulnerability? And all the questions she brought along with her, banging at the surface of their conversation -
What was that thing from last summer, Vanessa?
Why didn't you ever call me?
Why did you blow me off last Christmas?
What are you so afraid of?
Vanessa was afraid.
Last summer, the night of the blackout, everything had happened so fast there'd been no time for fear. Nina had kissed her and suddenly everything she wanted was right there, no time for thoughts or doubts to clog up the works. There was no time to sift through where this was coming from or where it might go. Every second was a new revelation, and suddenly she'd never felt hotter or wilder or better than she was with this girl who'd been her best friend since kindergarten.
"Have you ever -" Vanessa had begun to whisper at one point, a whisper that turned into a gasp as Nina's did something that made Vanessa's whole body clamp down and convulse. Have you ever done this with a girl before was the unspoken end of her question, and Nina shook her head, several curls of hair still stuck to her neck in the heat, and said "No" in a perfectly casual tone before she did it again and a groan tore out of Vanessa's throat. It wasn't until later, as Vanessa lay half over Nina's body, sliding her hand down over the smooth skin of Nina's stomach as she finished making one hell of a hickey just above Nina's collarbone, that the other possible meaning of Nina's response occurred to her. "Oh, shit, Nina," she gasped, her hand stalling out at a particularly crucial point. "Are you a virgin?"
Nina had let out a soft cry of frustration and thrown her head back on the pillow. "Oh, God," she'd said, voice unsteady, and then had caught Vanessa's wrist with her hand, guiding her to move again. Vanessa heard Nina's gasp, felt herself grow a little dizzy for a second. Then she heard Nina say "Not anymore."
"What?"
"You asked - oh - if I was a virgin and I said - no, no, please don't stop! Vanessa!"
Not anymore. The implications of that were staggering. That this was Nina's first time having sex - that they were actually having sex. This wasn't a couple of old friends having some nameless good times after a night out; this was sex. Vanessa was having sex with Nina Rosario. And it was Nina's first time.
At the time her response had been simple. After freezing for that split second, the sensible thought had occurred to her: If it's her first time, she deserves it to be good. Vanessa took a second to use her free arm to throw a pillow at Nina's head; Vanessa's mom was in the apartment and might hear. Nina caught the signal and held the pillow to her face as Vanessa did the things that she always wanted guys to do to her, the things so many of them were clueless about. It was second nature - of course she knew what to do and how to do it, she had the same parts herself and she knew how to use those - and as she brought Nina as high as she could go, as the pillow became not quite enough to muffle the noise after all, Vanessa had a sudden thought: I am never doing another blow job again. Bringing Nina off felt like home.
Thinking about it a year later, Vanessa found her thoughts dragging unwillingly over the events of the rest of the year. How many blow jobs had she done since then? How many guys had she fucked? And had she enjoyed any of it at all?
"Shit," she said aloud, and then flinched. Nina was lying in the bed two feet away and her breathing said she wasn't asleep. She'd have to ask what was wrong. Hurriedly, Vanessa started massaging her leg; just a cramp, she'd reply when Nina asked.
But Nina didn't. That felt as wrong as everything else had that night.
So Vanessa lay there on the floor, apologies and excuses and accusations and anxieties chugging around and around in her head until she wanted to scream. How could Nina have just come back like this?
...the last time I wanted to stay over, the place was too small.
"It is too fucking small," Vanessa muttered under her breath, twisting onto her side and nearly cracking her head on the side of the bed. Then she waited for Nina to say something, again. The silence piled up around them, dense as cotton balls.
...the last time.
Vanessa kicked the blankets off her legs in an abrupt explosion of movement, leapt up and headed into the bathroom. She thought she heard Nina stir behind her, maybe propping herself up on her elbows to watch Vanessa go, but Vanessa didn't turn around. She slammed the bathroom door behind her and flung herself down on the closed toilet lid, avoiding looking at herself in the mirror. She regarded the smooth white surface of the tub for a moment, wondering if she could maybe sleep in there for the night.
Great, Vanessa. Awesome plan. You ran out of places to run to, so now you want to sleep in your bathroom until the problem goes away. Just go back out there and talk to the girl, for fuck's sake. This is stupid.
"Shut up," Vanessa told the voice, and lay down in the tub. Then she closed her eyes and tried not to keep running over the events of the last year in her mind. Of course it didn't work.
She and Nina had slept together precisely three times after the night of the blackout, and each time had left Vanessa feeling a little more confused, a little more chaotic, than the time before. There were all kinds of weird things going on and Vanessa didn't know how to deal with any of them: she spent a lot of time vowing that it was never going to happen again, she'd hooked up with Nina out of drunkenness and silliness and - and - something, it didn't matter what, because it was a mistake and she was going to tell Nina that the next time she saw her.
But then Nina would actually show up, and Vanessa would be faced with that look in Nina's eyes - shy and knowing all at once, happy and anxious and heartbreakingly naive still - and Vanessa could never find the words. She found her tongue in Nina's mouth a lot, though. Among other places.
Oh Christ it was so hot, and oh Christ it was so wrong. It had to be. Vanessa was made to keep sugar daddies dangling on a string, and she was made to rise above the barrio like a firework rocketing into the sky. And while Nina was so much more than the place she came from, Vanessa knew her well enough to know that she'd never leave that place behind. She carried it with her everywhere she went; she'd never forget where she was from. How could Vanessa be with someone like that, someone with Washington Heights running through her blood, when all Vanessa wanted to do was get away from the Heights once and for all?
And anyway. All of that aside, she was not a lesbian. Absolutely no way. Vanessa knew about three things about lesbians and they were all terrible. What was she supposed to do, trade in her heels for Birkenstocks and cut off all her hair? Hang out with square-jawed girls in motorcycle jackets, talking about - what? What did you talk about when you were a lesbian? Transmissions and nipple rings, probably. Or cats. Vanessa hated cats.
She couldn't do this thing with Nina. She just couldn't.
It stopped when she moved downtown. She was real busy with moving, she told Nina; no, she didn't need any help. No, I'd love for you to see it but it's such a mess, I haven't unpacked yet, and besides it's so tiny you can't even move what with all the boxes. She put Nina off all through August, trying to shut her ears to the growing hurt and puzzlement in Nina's voice. When Nina went back to school, Vanessa sent her a nice email. Nina didn't reply.
Five days later Vanessa was in bed with, some guy she'd met about four hours before. Nice enough guy, or seemed to be. A little stunned that Vanessa had gone home with him on a first date when she had a reputation for stringing guys along forever. She'd made up her mind to like this guy - he drove a Lexus and he had nice arms - but the whole time she was with him she felt like choking, and just when they were really getting down to business, she lost it completely and had to run to the bathroom to throw up. God damn you, Nina, she thought, legs folded under her on the bathroom floor. Why do I keep seeing your face? This is my life. I picked it out a long time ago. Why do I keep seeing your face?
She told the guy she had a stomach virus, and he drove her home. The whole ride home, she stroked the leather of the car's interior.
The next day she convinced herself it really had been a stomach virus, and two weeks later she was hooking up with some other guy. That went a little better. She saw him twice before she slept with him. She didn't throw up. Eventually she dumped him for a guy with a slightly worse car but a nicer smile; but that never went anywhere. He was too nice, it turned out, interested in too much of her. He was always wanting to talk. He was way too sincere. If Vanessa had wanted a nice, sincere guy she'd have gone back to Usnavi, and that was blatantly impossible, because she had not set foot back in the Heights since she'd moved. Sometimes she wondered about Usnavi, what he was up to, whether he was giving free coffee to some other girl now. Then her mind would stray and she'd find herself wondering what Nina was up to. Was she dating anybody now? Sleeping with them? Was it a guy or a girl?
Then she'd shut her mind down with a click and go out to one of the clubs.
It all came to a head a few days before Christmas. Vanessa's phone rang at eleven that morning. Caller ID listed a number she didn't know, one with a weird area code. She almost let it go to voicemail, then reconsidered: she was trying to actually deal with the collection agencies lately, quit dodging all their calls. Steeling herself for the unpleasantness, she picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Vanessa?"
She froze.
"It's Nina."
"Right - hey, Nina. Of course. I know your voice. Girl, it's been so long!" If she paused everything she didn't want to deal with was going to rush into the space between her words. "What's happening? How's California treating you? Is it always 75 and sunny there? I bet it's great."
A slight hesitation. "Actually, I'm home now."
"You mean... in New York?"
"Yeah. Christmas break."
Oh God. "Awesome! For how long?"
"A few weeks. And I was wondering... I'd love to see you, V. I was wondering if you wanted to get together sometime."
Vanessa had a million excuses at the ready. She was great at putting people off. Instead, she heard herself saying, "That would be great. I'm free tonight, actually, if you are."
"Oh - great!" Vanessa could tell from the animation in Nina's voice that she hadn't expected this to be so easy. "I'm staying with my parents. I mean, obviously. Do you want to have dinner, maybe? We could meet at Margot's."
"Oh -" Vanessa closed her eyes. She couldn't deal with going back home - no, not home; back to the Heights - along with everything else. "Actually, why don't you come down here instead? There's a great place right down the street from me. You'll love it."
"Hey, sure. Maybe I can even see your new place, finally."
The words were spoken lightly, casually, but Vanessa felt her stomach tighten. "Maybe. I mean, it's a mess."
"Oh, like I care. But -" Nina's tone was suddenly more formal. "But it's your call."
"No, that's great," Vanessa said, inanely. "I mean... I mean, I'll see you tonight."
"Great. I'm really excited to see you again."
"Yeah - me too." Somehow, she found herself adding softly, "I've really missed you, Nina."
"Same goes." A pause. "Vanessa -"
But Vanessa pretended she didn't hear that. "Awesome. So, meet me at, what, seven?"
"Yeah. Yeah, seven's cool."
"Great. See you then."
When they hung up Vanessa pressed the phone to her lips. Her cheeks were flaming, her pulse running too fast.
"Get over it," she told herself. Then she threw a pillow across the room.
Vanessa applied her makeup carefully that night, and styled her hair even more carefully. She'd picked out a short black shirt and a new aquamarine halter top, a color that should have looked lousy with her coloring but was actually kind of fantastic. She was slipping into a pair of fuck-me stilettos before she caught herself. What is this, a date? she thought. Then she ignored the fact that she didn't really know the answer to that and slid on a pair of shorter, chunkier heels. Still, she didn't need the mirror's confirmation to know that she looked good. She snatched up a purse and was out the door five minutes early, a total anomaly for her.
When Nina saw her across the restaurant, a smile like summer broke across her face. She ran lightly across the room, and before Vanessa knew what she was doing she'd swept the smaller girl up in a hug that lifted her off her feet. Nina smelled like the same old store-brand conditioner she always used. Strawberry cream or something. Vanessa had always had an irrational love for that smell.
"Hey. Wow. Nina, it's -"
"-so great to see you, V." Talking over each other. Impulsively, Vanessa grabbed Nina's hand across the table. Then put it down. Nina flushed and looked down at her menu.
Oh, God, Vanessa was so not over this girl. What the hell had she been pretending all this time? She'd never be over Nina Rosario. Cutting her out would be cutting out a piece of her own history. One of the best parts there was.
"You look… amazing, Vanessa," she heard Nina say.
"Thanks." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I know."
Laughing with Nina was the happiest she'd been in a long time.
They fell into conversation easily; all the tension of their phone conversation had vanished as though it had never been. Nina was doing well in school, and Vanessa was genuinely thrilled for her. And Nina wanted all the latest Heights gossip. Of course Vanessa didn't really know any of it, but enough of the salon's clientele from the Heights had stuck with them when they moved to the Bronx that she had at least a few stories about familiar names. Yolanda was pregnant and engaged to Javier because he was totally convinced he was the father only of course he wasn't. He'd bought her this huge cubic zirconia that looked like it came from a dollar store and Yolanda kept trying to pass it off as a real diamond. Rumor had it Javier had taken half the money he could have spent on getting her a real ring and used it to start a college fund for the baby, which under the circumstances was taking the proud papa thing to a really pathetic degree. Meanwhile everyone was waiting to see whether the father of the baby was going to turn out to be that black guy Yolanda had been dating for awhile. Nina laughed herself sick over all of it. It was all so much like old times that it made Vanessa ache.
Talking to Nina, Vanessa found herself wishing for the first time that she hadn't been avoiding the Heights since she moved. With Nina here, the whole thing didn't feel nearly so – so un-deal-withable. Why had she been so afraid to go back? Usnavi, Benny, Sonny, even Graffiti Pete and the rest of the street-corner punks she'd gotten so annoyed with when she was there – dammit, she missed them. None of them had anything to do with her mom, with the soul-crushing weight of what she'd been most desperate to escape. And sitting here with Nina, watching the excited play of emotions across her face, it was easy to forget how stifled Vanessa had felt by the people in the Heights too, sometimes. How dismissively she'd thought of them, how sure she'd been that she was better than them, made for bigger things.
Here with Nina, it was so easy to remember the best and forget the worst.
"Nina," she said suddenly, reaching out to grasp Nina's hand across the table. "I…"
Nina's face was so open, and so beautiful. Vanessa caught a flicker of some secret knowledge deep in her eyes.
"I… don't know what I was going to say," Vanessa said after a minute, feeling helpless.
Nina squeezed her hand, then looked directly into Vanessa's face. "Do you want to get out of here?"
A long moment.
Then Vanessa was fishing around in her purse for her wallet, dropping two twenties on the table. "Let's go."
They went back to Vanessa's apartment, Vanessa feeling like she was in a dream. When they kissed, Vanessa could not remember for the life of her why she had ever thought she wanted more or other than this.
The bed got a good workout. Vanessa had never seen anything more beautiful than the arch of Nina's neck as she threw her head back into the pillow, her whole torso lifting off the bed, heels hammering the mattress. There was no need to be quiet this time, and they weren't. Eventually, some hours later, they fell asleep in each other's arms.
Vanessa woke up first. Her eyes traveled slowly over the bed, the two of them, naked and tangled up in each other. She reached over to her bedside table with one hand, grabbed her cell phone, checked the time. 2:13. Shit.
What was she doing? How could this be happening! She was supposed to be dating some dude – that – okay, so she couldn't remember his name. And she'd only seen him once. And she'd never slept with him. And maybe wasn't going to. Because he wasn't much to brag about. But – but he was a guy! And Nina wasn't just not a guy and Vanessa wasn't just not a lesbian, Nina was supposed to be her best friend and Vanessa had no idea what any of this was about and it was turning into, like, a thing, she and Nina kept falling into bed whenever they saw each other and pretty soon it was going to be like they were a couple and what the hell, she wasn't a lesbian! And all this serious stuff, all this weight, being with someone who knew so much about you, someone you actually cared about, someone who could actually hurt you. Nina was turning everything Vanessa had ever thought she knew about her life and herself upside down and Vanessa did not like it. It wasn't okay. She couldn't do this.
"Hey." Shaking Nina's shoulder. "Nina, wake up."
"Mmm?" Nina opened her eyes groggily. "What – oh," she murmured, a sleepy smile spreading across her face. "Is it morning? Can't be morning. What is it?" She snuggled in closer to Vanessa, placed a soft kiss on the slope of her breast. Vanessa stiffened.
"Seriously, Nina, wake up. You have to go."
"I have to go?" Nina pushed herself upright, more awake now. "What are you talking about? Where? Why?"
"You have to go home. Come on. Your parents'll be worried about you."
"I told them I might spend the night here," Nina said slowly, and Vanessa winced. "If we were out late. They worry about me taking the subway alone at night."
"Oh, come on, I take it alone at night all the time. I have mace if you need it."
"I didn't say I worried about it, I said they did. I have mace too. Vanessa, what the hell is going on here? Why are you kicking me out?"
"I'm not kicking you out!" A total lie. "I just – I really think you should get home. You don't want to miss being home for the night when you're… not here for very long. Your parents will miss you."
"My parents are asleep! God, Vanessa, why all this bullshit!"
"Look, you just can't stay. I mean, look at this place. There'd never be room for two people in the morning, falling over each other trying to use the bathroom and the kitchen and –"
"Oh my God. You are not serious."
"I am! This place is tiny. Way too small for two people."
Nina was silent for a long moment, eyes closed, lips pressed together, clearly fighting for control. "Why are you doing this to me?" she asked finally. Her voice was low, shaking.
"I'm not doing anything to you. I swear. I just… really don't have room."
"Okay. You know what? Fine." Nina shot up out of the bed, began throwing her clothes on. Her shirt wound up on backwards. "I hope you really enjoy –" shoving her leg into her jeans, so hard she almost toppled – "using your bathroom in the morning, alone. I mean, God forbid you should ever have to make space for anyone else in your goddamn fucking self-centered life."
"Nina!"
"Yeah, fuck you too, Vanessa. Goodbye."
The door slammed shut behind her, hard enough to rattle the walls.
…that's okay. I never let them stay, Vanessa thought.
But she heard her own voice, speaking to Usnavi: …what I hate most in the world… being left alone.
"Why does none of it make any sense?" she whispered.
From far away, she heard the outer hallway door slam. She fell back on the pillow that still smelled like Nina and let the tears rip her apart.
Nina had gone back to Stanford after break without speaking to Vanessa again. Over time, Vanessa thought, they'd sort of made it up. She had run into Nina once during her spring break. Nina had come to the salon to see Daniela and Carla; she and Vanessa had both stumbled terribly over their words at first, and it was clear that Nina had not expected Vanessa to be there. A little weird, Vanessa thought, given that she worked there, but Daniela cleared it up for her: "She called to ask if you were working today. I said no."
"You said no? Why?"
Daniela arched an eyebrow. "I must have been mixed up."
Like hell you were. Vanessa swung around and strode away, pissed off and wondering what Daniela's angle was.
But it went okay, after all. It would have been impossible to avoid Nina without Daniela reading into it and spreading some kind of rumor all over the world, so Vanessa forced herself to talk to Nina normally. No reference to what had happened over Christmas, obviously. Nina responded in kind – a little formal, but maybe not so anyone else would notice – and they parted with one of those little awkward hugs where nothing's touching below the shoulder. Nina went back to Stanford after a few weeks, and a few weeks after that Vanessa got a stupid computer virus that sent spam out to everyone in her email address book. Nina sent Vanessa an email giving her a heads up, and even though three-quarters of the people Vanessa knew had done the same thing, Nina's email was the one Vanessa replied to. Sorry about that, thanks for letting me know, and by the by, how's Stanford going? They exchanged a few awkward, perfectly courteous emails before they let it drop. So they were officially on speaking terms. Perfect.
Vanessa tried not to think about what would happen when Nina came back for the summer. Would they see each other? Probably not. She was looking for a new job now, too, something that would pay better, so even if Nina went to the salon to visit with Carla and Daniela, Vanessa wouldn't be there. She'd started thinking about moving out of the city, anyway. She shouldn't be paying through the nose for a studio just for the sake of staying in New York. It wasn't like she had any real friends left in the city anyway, especially if she left the salon. She'd miss the night life, but it was probably time for her to settle down anyway. Not with someone - just in general. She was getting sick of going on dates with guys who bored her. And somehow, all of them bored her these days.
Sometimes it occurred to her that she was cutting more and more people out of her life lately. That she was going to end up with nobody pretty soon if she wasn't careful.
What? I don't care.
And then Nina showed up. Vanessa had been right, before, to tell her that there wasn't room for her. With her there, the apartment was bursting with memories and questions and fear and desire and total confusion. Vanessa shifted uncomfortably in the tub, aware on some dim level of how completely ridiculous all this was. Curling up on her side, legs pressed uncomfortably against the edge of the tub, she closed her eyes and tried to pretend everything away.