Michelle was curled up on her couch watching "Wait Until Dark" when an insistent knock on the door made her jump.
"I don't have your crack-filled doll!" she cried as she leaped to her feet.
She opened the front door a crack. Sasha was standing there, hands on her hips, looking for all the world like a wrathful queen.
"Oh, hey Sasha. Can I help you?"
"I need the keys to the studio and Madame Fanny's already asleep."
"Yeah, well it is," Michelle looked at her phone, "eleven-thirty on a Tuesday. You should be in bed too, Frere Jacques."
"I need to dance. Give me the keys."
"Don't take that tone with me, missy. You can dance in your room or your kitchen like the rest of us poor dancers who didn't have the luxury of a dance studio nearby."
"Give me the keys, dammit!" Sasha exploded. "I have to dance! If I stop moving I'll start thinking and if I start thinking I'll collapse into a sobbing mess and if I start crying I'll never stop, so just open the damn studio!"
"Whoa, hey, you should've said it was an emotional crisis sooner," said Michelle, raising her hands in surrender. "Are you planning on dancing until you pass out? Because whatever it is, it's gonna catch up eventually."
"Not if I keep busy."
Michelle frowned.
"That doesn't sound real healthy. Why don't you just slow down and deal with it? Come inside and talk to me."
"Yeah, because you're so emotionally healthy. You married a man just because you were feeling hopeless about the future and your career and didn't even cry when he died. I should definitely listen to you," Sasha scoffed.
It took all the self-control Michelle had not to punch the teenage girl clear to Ojai. The kid didn't know what she was talking about. But Michelle understood Sasha. A smack or verbal cut-down would only make her smile smugly, satisfied that she'd hit a sore spot. So Michelle did what she thought would punish her most. She enveloped the young dancer in a hug.
The effect was surprising and immediate. Sasha began shaking with sobs. She cried so hard and so stormily that Michelle wondered when she had last let her emotions loose.
"I'm an idiot," she sobbed, "I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot!"
Michelle didn't consider herself a very touchy-feely, comforting, motherly type, but Sasha was so miserable that she didn't really have a choice.
"Come on," she said when Sasha's tears had slowed down. "I probably have some sort of comfort food here and we can talk, okay?"
Crying had taken all the fight out of Sasha, so she nodded and followed Michelle into the kitchen. Michelle started rummaging through cupboards and drawers and the fridge.
"Uh, I have bread. Kids like bread, right? And some instant pudding, but I don't have any milk so we can't make it. Oh! I forgot I had these Twizzlers." She tried one. "Nevermind. It's like trying to chew a tire. Jackpot! I have peanut butter chocolate swirl ice cream." She glanced at the sink. "But all my bowls and mugs are dirty. You cool with eating it straight from the carton?"
"Yeah."
"Catch."
Michelle tossed a spoon in Sasha's direction and set the ice cream down on the table.
"So." She stuck a huge spoonful in her mouth. "What's up?"
Sasha traced a design on the top of the table.
"I told Boo."
"She didn't take it so well, huh?"
"She freaked out."
"That doesn't sound like Boo."
"I kind of kissed her."
"Oh. That's...that's a huge step from admitting you like her, Sasha. What did she do?"
"She said she was messed up, but she wasn't a lesbian."
Sasha stabbed her spoon into the ice cream.
"Ouch." Michelle cringed.
"Yeah. Awesome." Sasha put the spoon down. "The whole thing just sucks. I'm an idiot. I don't know why I did it. It's just that my mom and dad got into another huge fight and dad left and I didn't know if he was ever coming back. Then Boo had him call me to pick him up because he was smashed so I did. And I drove her home and she said I needed to talk and that I could tell her anything. She's just been so nice to me even though I'm a grade-A bitch and everyone else gets it and treats me like dirt. So I wanted to tell her but she just looked so sweet and I knew I'd mess it up if I tried to put it into words, you know?"
She sighed. "But I messed it up anyway. I'm a freaking moron. I knew that she likes Charlie and that she's starting to like Carl and that she's confused about the whole thing. And now she'll never talk to me again and everyone will know I like girls and my mom will treat me like she treats my dad. If she's not screaming at him about taking an hour to blow dry and style his hair, she's ignoring him. Why doesn't he just leave her? Why does he keep trying to hang onto this stupid fairytale even though everyone knows he's gay? Is being gay really so bad that he'd rather live a lie than embrace it? Should I just pretend I'm not? Should I call Boo and tell her I was drunk and start dating some guy?"
The words rushed out of Sasha in a torrent. Michelle had never heard Sasha say so much with so little sarcasm. It was refreshing, but also scary. She felt responsible for the vulnerable girl sitting next to her.
"I don't know what to tell you," she started. "So I'm just going to try to talk through it, okay? Do you really think pretending to be straight will make you happy? Sorry I'm getting personal, but it lead to your dad getting hammered on the substandard alcohol at the Oyster Bar. Unless you want to be in the exact same position in twenty years, think hard before you decide anything for sure. You're seventeen. Figure things out first. So you like girls. That doesn't define who you are. Maybe you'll date in high school, maybe you won't. Don't sweat it."
"What should I do about my mom? She's a total homophobe."
"Hmm. That's tricky." Michelle tapped her spoon on her nose meditatively. "Before the really big capital G gay incident with your dad, did she ever go on anti-gay tirades?"
"No, not really."
"It might be that her anger is born out of hurt. Imagine being in love with someone and starting a family with then and then all of a sudden they're cheating on you with someone of the same gender. Maybe it's not out of nowhere. Maybe you've blinded yourself to the signs. But anyway, it's sucky enough being cheated on, but when it's because you have the wrong plumbing? Suck city. You start to wonder if everything else is fake. It makes for a lot of crazy emotions and maybe even anger. You're her daughter. The relationship is different. I'm sure she'll still love you. And if she doesn't, she sucks and your dad will totally be on your side."
"You have a valid point, ancient one." Sasha gave a small smile for the first time that night and took a bite of ice cream. The smile didn't last long, though.
"Shoot, what's wrong? Don't like peanut butter?"
"No. Boo."
"How long have you known Boo?"
"Twelve years."
"Have you ever known her to hold a grudge?"
"Never."
"She might avoid you for a little bit, but I don't think she'll let it get between you for long. She cares about you too much."
"You think so?"
"Honey, I may be old, but I'm not blind. Anyway, if she wants to talk about it, do it, okay? Tell her how you feel."
"But-"
"I know, I know, it didn't go so great the first time, but now things can only get better. Then it'll be out there and she can accept it or not. It happens. I know it feels like hell now, but it'll get better. Time's awesome, like a plus seventy super healing mage."
"You're ridiculous. You know that, right?"
"What?! Ninety-seven years old and nobody bothered to tell me!"
Sasha laughed and Michelle smiled at the sound. The girl sitting there looked like a completely different creature from the one who'd banged on her door half an hour ago.
"Hey," Michelle looked Sasha in the eye, "things are gonna suck, but you can talk to me any time. I'm not the mom type, though, so it probably won't be a hundred percent reliable all the time, but I'll try. I'll be like your crazy great-aunt or something."
"How about an older sister? Then you can get away with hating me sometimes."
Michelle stuck a finger in the ice cream and then licked it off.
"Deal, sis. But that means you have to call me on my crap, too."
"Deal."
"Good. Now grab the ice cream and crash on the couch with me. I'm watching 'Wait Until Dark' and I'll pee myself if no one's around to hold my hand."
"Gross." Sasha made a face. "But I'll stick it out for Audrey Hepburn."
"I'll take it. Oh, crap. You have school tomorrow, huh?"
"Worst big sister ever."
"Well...I guess it is a special occasion. But you have to call your parents."
"They don't care, Michelle."
"Do it anyway."
Sasha rolled her eyes, but called home. No one picked up and she left a quick message.
"Happy?"
"As a clam. Now let's get to terrified peeing!"
Sasha sat down on the opposite side of the couch. Michelle tsk'd at her and held her arms open.
"Come here, sis. We don't always have to be so mushy, but I've got a feeling you need as much love as possible after your drought."
"If you tell anyone about this," Sasha said, nestling close, "I'll put another possum in your bed."
"Punk-ass kid."
"Saggy boobs."
"Wannabe."
"Has-been."
"All right, you win. Now shut up. I want to see guys getting murdered."