Tegan released another irritated sigh as she looked at herself in the mirror. She stomped her foot on the ground like a child, and groaned for what seemed to be the millionth time since she had woken up this morning. Sara watched her as she sat on the countertop in the same bathroom.
Sara had finished getting ready ten minutes before her lover. She was getting aggravated the longer Tegan took fighting with the strands of her hair. Her student had obviously woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Was it that time of the month when Sara promised herself not to say anything risky to Tegan since two years ago when Tegan had won the prize of bitchiness? No, no, no, Sara thought. It's wrong to think of her lover like that. Anyway, Tegan was moody whether she was PMSing or having the best day of her life. Plus, she had not gotten much sleep the previous night.
"Come on," Sara said softly. "We're gonna be very late."
Tegan turned around, letting her hair loose after giving up on the ponytail she had been trying to perfect for the past ten minutes. Her strands were getting longer and messier; she was starting to hate them. "Do something with my hair." Tegan pouted. She felt grumpy and sleepy and she was forced out of bed against her will. "Since you're forcing me to go."
"I don't want you to miss your classes." Sara sighed and got off the countertop. "Plus, we're taking an important poem today."
"I didn't even have breakfast," Tegan whined. Sara laughed silently. The resemblance Tegan had with Ella was unbelievably funny; no wonder the little girl thought they were the same age. Tegan was like a maximized Ella with bigger problems. She was adorable and cute. Sara wanted to pinch her ruddy cheeks but resisted the temptation.
"I'm sorry," Sara said. She stepped behind Tegan's frame and took a grip of the dark locks. "I'll get you coffee and something to eat as soon as we reach and you can eat in class. I allow drinks and food."
"Ouch, ouch." Tegan glared in the mirror as her girlfriend tugged at her locks. Sara put a hand on her shoulder and steadied her movement. "Oww," Tegan whined again. "It hurts."
"Don't you want a perfect ponytail?"
"Yes."
"Then bear the pain." Sara took the elastic band from Tegan's hand and slowly moved the hair she had collected in and out till Tegan got her perfect ponytail (minus the very few baby hairs at the front of Tegan's hairline).
"Sara," Tegan's whiny voice came again as she turned around facing the older woman, "I just wanna sleep."
"Babe, you'll sleep later." Sara sighed, brushing the stray hairs to the back. "Who the hell wakes up three times in the middle of the night to pee? I got so worried the third time you got up I couldn't sleep again."
"Tegan does," Tegan said. "Because I pee a lot." She yawned. "Because I'm always cold and always eating ice." She yawned again.
"You and your ice." Sara passed a playful eye roll before pushing her student out of the bathroom. "Come on, let's get going. I have to print out these papers before class."
"How much did I get in the midterm?" Tegan turned around, grinning widely. She had been trying to find out since Sara had corrected the papers three days ago. Sara refused to say, which vexed Tegan because she was sure she got a mark as bad as the one she had gotten in Modern World Literature.
"B+," Sara finally said. She was going to hand in the grades today. She also wanted to shut Tegan up and make her leave the apartment already.
"What? Why?" Tegan halted in her place. She pouted. "I thought I did great."
"Highest mark is A-." Sara walked to the door. "Come on."
"Who's that bitch who got it?" Tegan did not move.
"I don't know? I forgot her name. Someone who apparently never participates, so don't worry."
"Cunt," Tegan mumbled. Sara was getting irritated with the childish behavior.
"You got an A- in Creative Writing. You can still edit it and get an A. Move now." Sara opened the door, motioning for Tegan to step out.
"Wait. My backpack!" Tegan walked out to the room. Sara sighed frustratingly. She was counting to ten under her breath. She didn't want to yell or show her anger at Tegan. Moodiness had been messing up with her, too. The goddamn pills did not give her a break, not to mention the entire Stacy chaos (as she liked to call it) from the night before, which didn't give her much rest in her slumber.
Tegan came back with her ponytail swaying from side to side. Her grimace could make birds fly off with their feathers falling from fear. As she was getting out of the door, her phone started ringing. Sara called the elevator, waiting for this day to operate faster.
Knowing her girlfriend was angry; Tegan did not say any word nor delay anymore. She picked up her phone and sighed before even greeting her brother.
"Sup," Ted said.
"What do you want?" Tegan responded. She and Sara were exchanging awkward looks in the elevator. Eyes moved up and down each other's bodies as the humming noise of the elevator surrounded them.
"Nice way to greet your brother." Tegan could tell Ted was eating something. The chewing sounds were in her ears.
He was doing that on purpose.
"Talk like something other than an animal," Tegan shot back. She watched Sara raise her brows.
"Who's that baby in the picture on Snapchat?" Ted asked, alerting his sister. "Mom said you're gonna have a baby or whatever. Did you adopt her?"
"Are you serious?" She sighed as she got in the front seat beside Sara. "You're twenty-six, a dentist, and engaged, yet you still lack any common sense whatsoever." Sara burst in laughter. Tegan looked at her. She started driving with a wide grin, which made Tegan grin in return.
"You're rude," Ted said.
"I'm honest. I'm worried about you. Of course that's not my daughter. Ted, seriously, you know better than to take mom's words too literally. I am getting married and I am going to have a family…in the future, so don't ever believe it when mum says I am pregnant with twins and having a honeymoon in Italy. She has a wild imagination and she exaggerates." Sara laughed again.
"She didn't say that." Ted paused. "She said you're going to have a baby and you are a baby and you're basically ruining your life."
"Nice," Tegan whispered. She ignored the sudden pang. She took several breaths and swallowed her emotions. She looked at Sara, whose face did not have any hints of Joy anymore. Her face was focused on the road. Her brow was full of creases, ones from squinting; others due to age.
"Yeah…and I just thought you were, like, this quick, because, you know, like, I know how you feel and how much you love that woman…and yes. I just thought…"
"It's not," Tegan interrupted her brother, saving him from his awkwardness, "it's Sara's friend's daughter. I was babysitting."
"Oh." Ted paused again, longer this time. "I guess that makes sense."
"I have to go. My class will start soon," Tegan lied. She was still in the car. She still had fifteen more minutes before her class.
Sara parked inside the university. This time of the day the university was always empty. Not much students took 8:00 am classes. Sara loved morning classes. Waking up in the early morning always made her feel more energetic throughout the day. In vacations when she woke up in the afternoons, she spent the rest of the day lazy. She either spent it lying in her bed, reading or watching television; or lying on her couch, also doing similar activities. Having a routine and a job was the best thing in life to Sara. She had to do something in order to stay focused and positive. In the moments of loneliness; in the previous years, Sara was despondent in vacations. Hopelessness was her immortal friend, coming at nights to remind her of her lonely heart, lurking behind the sunny corners in the mornings to remind her of the emptiness that hugged her skin like a warm blouse. She thanked every leaf in the trees on campus for finding love again. Those weeks before getting Tegan back were a reminder and a shadow of those lonely years after her divorce and her loss.
Sara blinked, shaking her thoughts off when the voice of her lover stopped ringing in her ears. She looked at her student, who was fidgeting in her seat.
"Are you okay?" Sara asked. "What did Ted want?"
"I have to pee," Tegan said, "I gotta pee right now."
"Oh my god," Sara whispered unbelievably. "If we hadn't been to the doctor yesterday, I'd assume there's something seriously wrong with your bladder. Come with me to my office and use the bathroom in there."
Both women got out of the car. Sara took forever to unlock her office's door and Tegan was about to wet her pants. She regretted gulping three glasses of cold water when she woke up. When Sara finally unlocked her door, Tegan ran to the bathroom, locking that door. She sat on the toilet quickly, letting out a sigh of relief as she emptied her bladder. She looked around her and smirked. She was using the bathroom of a dean in her faculty. She wanted to tell her angsty teenage self this was waiting for her; all of this pain and happiness and confusion. She wanted to tell her sixteen-year-old self, who was madly in love with a man, that a woman would appear in her life and make her forget her past, present, and future. She wanted to tell her seventeen-year-old self that nothing was as beautiful as a reunion after a loss. She wanted to tell her twenty-year-old self that the eyes of her lover would become visible again. She wanted to reach out for her thirty-year-old self and ask her if she and Sara were still together. She recited in her heart a tiny prayer that she and Sara would last as much as their love lasted together.
"Here's one cheese croissant and one chocolate and here's your coffee," Sara said when Tegan left the bathroom. Tegan took a big bite as soon as she was handed the hot pastries. "You're that hungry? I'm so sorry, love." Tegan was rewarded with delicate lips on the corner of her mouth, making her grin.
"Thank you," Tegan said. She took another bite of the cheese croissant and a sip of coffee.
"Go to class now. I'll print out these papers and follow."
Tegan found a seat in the second row when she entered her classroom. Almost every student was present. They all feared Professor Clement so they showed up as early as possible to avoid the bang of the door slamming in their faces.
Sara entered after a few minutes with her coffee in her hand and her Modern Poetry book in the other hand. "I have a surprise for you," Sara announced. Her smirk stretched by the second, showing wicked nerdiness, which Tegan adored.
"Let me guess," one student said, "you're handing back our test graded, aren't you?"
"I like smart students," Sara said sarcastically. "You, sir, are very smart." Everyone in the classroom laughed.
"Alright, enough fun," Sara said loudly, hushing up her students. "I'll hand back your sheets at the end of the class. Today we're going to finally take my favorite poem…ever." Sara's eyes twinkled when they met her lover's. A faint rosy hue kissed Tegan's cheeks and a smile planted itself on Sara's face against her will. "T. S Eliot's The Waste Land." Sara gulped.
Tegan looked at her pants-clad thighs, smiling at Sara's expected choice.
"Are we gonna take all five parts of it?" another guy yelled from the back of the class.
"Yes, dude. All five frikin' parts. I just like to torture my students." Sara was always extra mean and salty with her male students. Groans thickened in the classroom, to which Sara responded with a tsk and a glare.
Sara began lecturing. She started with the title of the poem. She gave a historical background about WWI and about T.S Eliot. She explained the poetic techniques the poet relied on and the reason the poem did not make much sense. Tegan had already read the poem tons of times on her own. She understood it her own way, because it was too hard to understand it without reading all the literary texts Eliot was referring to.
"Isn't it funny that he starts it declaring how depressing and bleak April is? Why do you think so?"
None of her sleepy 8:00 am students responded. How would they know?
"Alright, I'll give you the answer. How many of you had read The Canterbury Tales? Or at least bits of it?" Every student in the classroom raised their hands. "Do you remember the beginning?" All students disorderly began reciting the first lines of the famous Chaucer poem. "Alright, alright," Sara stopped them.
"Ohhhhh," a couple of students uttered loudly, making Sara roll her eyes.
"I'm teaching a class of dead people," she mumbled. "So yes, the first line of The Canterbury Tales opens up with April being the best month; the holy month for pilgrimage and cheerfulness. While in The Waste Land, it opens up with a different image, showing that England is not so much of a holy place, April is not a great month, and life is cruel and sordid."
Sara talked more and analyzed the poem slowly with intricate details, making her students wonder how passionate one person could be about literature. She entangled each stanza and explained each mystery in the beautiful lines that she adored so much. Reading some bits aloud, she smiled to herself, remembering her debates with Jack and the way he teased her with the lines. Sometimes she wished Tegan was as passionate about literature as Jack was; sometimes she hated that she wished that because Tegan was unique and beautiful, and loving her was way more special than any type of affection Sara had felt before.
Tegan's fluttering heart looked forward to each line Sara recited with her euphonic tune. The harmony of words eased out of Sara's tongue with a soft rhythm, adding beauty to each letter and giving weight to each word.
"Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch."
And with the way Sara pronounced the German words, Tegan's goosebumps decided to declare their devotion to the tongue that was owned by the woman standing there, reciting poetry as if she was created solely to do so.
Then Sara stopped for the day before finishing the first part. She began to hand in the graded papers to her students. The noises increased in the classroom as each student received their grade. Tegan did not care much; she inspected Sara's body moving with confident swiftness in the classroom. She desired to place her hands on the curves of her waist or brush her lips on the softness of her skin. She craved pushing her face in the warmth of her chest and listen to her speak till sleep stabbed both of their consciousness.
"I don't get how she's a professor, let alone a dean. She can't even teach then gets tests from mars and gives the shittiest grades."
The harshness of the words cut Tegan's thoughts off, making her pay attention to the people murmuring behind her.
"I register a class with a professor I want and end up with this fag."
Tegan's chest tightened. She turned around, squinting at whoever was saying bullshit behind her.
"I honestly hope she dies." Tegan glared at the brunette who did not pay attention to her looks.
"I thought she died. Why didn't she die?" the other girl said, making Tegan use all the force within her to lift her hands up, ready to strike.
"You fucking…"
"Stop," Sara shouted, taking a hold of Tegan's forearm, placing it down. "What the hell is going on?" Sara's octave was high, not showing any hints of the melody it carried minutes ago.
"They were…they were…" Tegan felt the hot tears fill her eyes, making everybody in class whisper.
"Class is dismissed," Sara said gruffly. She pulled her student up, not waiting for people to leave before she dragged her outside of the classroom. "Come with me," Sara whispered.
The words of the students rushed back inside Tegan's head like the screeching noise of long nails on a blackboard. She had never wished for anyone to die. She couldn't imagine how cruel and mean people could be. Sara had seen enough and she was still suffering and Tegan was suffering along with her, and these women just declared their wishes of death out loud without a pinch of care. The heart that pumped blood inside Tegan was on the verge of explosion, she could feel it.
They passed by Dr. Austin on the way to Sara's office. The other professor asked what had happened but Sara gave her a look that only the professor understood, nodding and walking away. Tegan was crying like an injured little kid, like Ella the night before when she had wet her pants.
Sara unlocked her door again, but quicker this time, pushing Tegan gently inside. "Sit, baby," Sara said. Tegan took a seat and sobbed more. Sara placed her book and keys on the desk and sat in front of Tegan. She touched her face and looked into the puffiness of her rainy eyes. "You shouldn't have done that. If I hadn't stopped you in time, you would have probably been kicked out of university."
Sara was aware of what had happened. The scene stung her chest, making her knock over a couple of people's textbooks just to catch Tegan in time. She heard every whisper in class. Her ears were well trained to take the bad from the good because she was her worst critic and her best hater, a trait nobody knew about her but Stacy. Tegan was beginning to discover it slowly. Those students talked each day, making her hate herself in privacy. When she first began teaching, she used to cry in her office alone. She tried her best to be their friend and to help them. Only few admired her techniques and methods of teaching, the rest hated her. If she was nice, they took it for granted and teased her like the men in class usually did. If she was mean, they called her a bitch. At some point she stopped caring, but she still felt jealous of all the other professors who were loved. Jack followed the exact same methods of teaching, but all his students loved him, simply because he was a man. They thought that a man who's so passionate about literature was hot, but a woman so passionate about literature was just a boring, lonely nerd. It hurt her so much. The way she looked about fifteen years younger than her age did not help, as well. Men, especially, liked to treat her as an inferior even though they were years younger than her. People generally found it funny that someone so small, so short, and so innocent-looking had this sharp personality and held this devotion for literature. They always thought it's fake. She never won with them, but after winning Tegan's heart two years ago, she was the winner, laughing in secret silence. When she lost Tegan, she knew fate was on everyone's side and stood against her. Now Sara won Tegan again and she was waiting for the bad to happen because that's how things usually went. She woke up each day expecting to be hospitalized, and when the day ended, Sara said a tiny prayer that she used to hear her mother recite in order to keep her healthy and happy forever. Those were many, many years ago when Evelyn recited these prayers before tucking Sara into bed and kissing her forehead. It was before Sara was aware that her mother loved the person she imagined her to be.
"They were…I can't even say it." A louder sob came out of Tegan's lungs, making her cover her mouth and gasp.
"I know," Sara said. "I know what they said. I heard them. I know what everyone says and wishes. I don't care, Tegan. Let them say what they will. You shouldn't care as well, just the way you don't care when Emy's friends say these mean words to you. Attacking students will only hurt you. If they don't like how I teach, they can drop my class. They had the chance of dropping when they saw my face the first day. It's not my problem nor is it yours. Okay, honey?" Sara's hand squeezed Tegan's bony knee. Her eyes sent a wink and her face was smiling.
"It hurt me a lot hearing that. It shocked me that some people can be that…mean. They don't know the pain you went through."
"No," Sara said confidently. "They don't know. Nobody does know but me and those who have experienced what I've been through, and I honestly don't wish it upon any human being on earth." She sat back, giving Tegan those mirror-like eyes that she hadn't seen since two years before. Tegan's lips parted. It was that Sara face that hid thousands of emotions inside.
"How can I…" Tegan stuttered. "How can I show you how much I love you?" She blushed. Her beating heart gushed out love into her veins like fireworks in a starless sky.
"Just stay with me," Sara answered gently.
"I will," Tegan promised.
…
Tegan took a nap as soon as she returned from university. She had been exhausted and sleepy. When she woke up, Sara was still not home, so she took a shower and did her homework afterward. She was eating a cucumber while laughing at a sitcom in the living room when she heard the sound of the lock from the hallway. Her excitement immediately invaded her thoughts, making her sit up as if she had been waiting for her meal in a fancy restaurant.
The first thing she heard was Sara's lazy yawn, making her giggle. Then she heard Sara's shoes before the woman appeared at the door, rubbing her eyes and yawning again.
"I hate freshmen," Sara announced, plopping down on the sofa.
Tegan laughed. "You say this every day." Tegan took a hold of the older woman, steering her body slowly to fall thoroughly on the sofa. A hearty laugh escaped Sara's mouth and her head fell on Tegan's lap.
"I'll say it till I stop teaching them. They're so dumb." Sara closed her eyes for a second until the crunching of the cucumber from Tegan's mouth made her open them again, looking up at Tegan chewing. "What are you eating?"
"A cucumber," Tegan said, taking another bite.
"I'll make you something to eat." Sara got up. "Come help me," she ordered.
Tegan followed to the kitchen as Sara looked inside the refrigerator.
"I know how to cook some stuff," Tegan said.
"Yeah?" Sara looked up, holding a bag of frozen chicken thighs, waiting for her Tegan to take it. "What do you know?"
"Just the basics. Grilling these or frying them." Tegan held the cold bag up. "Adding some stuff to make them seasoned. Jeremy used to make seafood. He cooked well."
"I'm a better cook, though," Sara said. She didn't need to ask Tegan about that, she knew she was.
"There's no comparison." Tegan loved to boost up Sara's ego because it made the woman smile and blush, the perfect combination.
"I'll have to go check on Stacy by the way." Sara was already waiting for the pan to heat up. She was also chopping some green onions.
"I'll come with you." Tegan loved to tag along with almost everyone since she was a little child. She was always the uninvited child with her parents solely because she threw a hissy fit before each event. Her mother was embarrassed by it. She liked to accompany Emy or Jeremy to different places as well, even if she sensed that they wanted to be left alone. She just did everything she could in order not to be the one left alone because being alone, to her, was the most disastrous feeling that she couldn't cope with. Being alone meant thoughts and thoughts meant destruction. When she was a little kid, being alone meant fear and fear meant rejection and loss; it meant no mommy and daddy.
"Oh, thank god." A thankful sigh left out Sara's lips. "I was hoping you'd say that. I don't want to stare at moping Stacy for an hour. I don't want the dejection to hit me."
"I feel bad for Ella, to be honest." That was another reason why Tegan wanted to accompany Sara. After last night, Ella meant so much more to Tegan. The reasons were not really mysterious; she saw in Ella innocence that she hadn't seen on any kid before. Ella made her laugh from the depths of her soul and she loved listening to what the wild imagination of the little kid had come up with. Ella needed a friend and she felt ready to provide that. She was not sure if that was her motherly instinct as Sara had told her last night or it was just her heart loving this kid so much, but it did not matter to her.
"I am honestly hoping she'll grow up without any additional trauma. She had seen enough. I want her to be safe, healthy, and happy."
Tegan was making the salad while Sara was stirring the vegetables and the chicken in the pan. She looked back at the older woman and asked, "Sara, why did Stacy's husband hit her? Like, yes, he's violent, but…is there any reason? Is he just sick?"
"She swears he wasn't like that when she met him." Sara shrugged. She turned around to face Tegan and continued, "He hit her when he was drunk. She said he was not an alcoholic and not violent but Jack always told me he seemed too possessive." Tegan remembered the picture of Jack and Sara that Ella had shown her the night before. Sometimes she wanted to meet that Jack, other times she didn't because the way Sara mentioned him burned her insides with jealousy. "He started drinking a lot after the divorce and he lost some bet or whatever and he used to come to her place in the middle of the day drunk as fuck and would cuss everyone and threaten to take Ella then go away."
"Wow."
"I always told her to call the police, she never did." Sara sighed. She turned around to stir the food in the pan again. Tegan, too, turned back to finish up making the salad.
…
Sara informed her friend she was visiting, so Stacy was forced to get out of bed and spend some time in the bathroom making her face look less tired.
Ella sat on the counter, watching her mother apply concealer. Whenever Stacy was done with a brush, Ella took it, placing it in its original place, and handed her mother the one she needed. Ella knew exactly what kind of brush her mother used with different types of makeup. She had been watching her mother for over two years, memorizing every step and every brand her mother used.
Stacy smiled while glancing at her daughter's focused gaze in the mirror. Ella blushed and smiled back. Her lips were parted the way her mother's were while she was putting on a hot pink lipstick. Stacy pressed her lips together to even the sticky substance, which made Ella giggle. "How do I look?" the mother asked.
"Pretty," Ella answered. She hugged her mother's side, making the woman wince. Stacy kissed her daughter's head, pushing her off gently, not wanting to make her feel that what she had just done made her ache terribly. Stacy had spent the entire day in her robe, but it was time she changed.
"Let's pick a dress for mummy." Stacy took Ella's hand, leading her out of the bathroom. Ella ran to the closet, opening it quickly and humming as she went through her mother's clothes. "Which one?" Stacy asked, watching Ella hesitate between a plain black dress and a dark blue one that was a bit shorter than the first option.
"Tegum likes blue," Ella said, "so blue." Stacy raised her eyebrows.
"Blue it is," Stacy said to herself, taking the dress and walking to the bathroom once again. Ella followed. "Wait here, honey. I need to change." Usually Ella followed her mother to the bathroom even when she showered. Stacy found it hard to get her rid of this habit; she didn't want her daughter to stay alone in this place. But now, Stacy didn't want for her daughter to see the stitches and the bruised skin. What she had seen was enough.
Stacy stepped inside, leaving the door slightly open. "So, Elle," she said from inside the bathroom, "you really like Tegan?"
"Yes," she heard her daughter's voice chant. "But…" Stacy put on her dress, waiting for her child to speak.
"But what?" she asked when Ella took too long.
"She's old and she loves Sasa and will marry her." Stacy laughed. She stepped out of the bathroom, meeting her daughter's solicitous frown.
"How about you tell her you're marrying her kid when she has one and you two are grown ups?" Stacy watched her daughter think it over inside her head. It was quite amusing to mess with her child's mind and entertain herself with the girl's imagination and thoughts. She had nothing but Ella's excitement and over-hyper imagination. She was the fountain of joy itself that birthed life in Stacy's heart.
The bell rang just then, making Ella get off the sofa and run to the door. Stacy followed with none-stopping laughter. She opened the door to both women standing next to each other. She showed her best smile, hiding her misery beneath the clouds of her mind.
"Wooow," Sara said. "You look good." Tegan agreed with a nod, her lips were parted.
"Thank you," Stacy said. "Come in." She stepped aside, letting her guests inside. "I feel much better today."
"Hey, Elle," Tegan said. "Look what I got you." She held out a bag of candy for Ella's wide eyes to demand with their glow.
"Give me, give me." Ella's excited feet jumped, trying to reach the bag that Tegan held up, torturing the little kid.
"Nope," Tegan said. She glanced at Stacy quickly, smiling deviously. "I want a kiss first." She bent down, offering her pale cheek to the kid.
"No," Ella rejected, "I wanna marry your baby." Stacy almost fell from laughter. Her side started to hurt.
Sara felt lost.
"Oh." Tegan blushed. "I don't have one yet. But when I do, I'll let you marry my baby…when you're both old, maybe." Sara's eyes squinted in confusion. Stacy was still laughing.
"Mummy, she'll let me marry her baby." Ella clapped. Stacy held her thumbs up. Ella was rewarded with a plastic bag full of every sugary thing the kid's heart desired.
"After dinner, Elle," her mother said.
"Anyway," Sara cut the little party off, "I got booze." She held the red wine bottle up for Stacy to notice. She knew the woman was basically broke. She was too cheery for the miserable woman she had witnessed the day before. It was Stacy; Sara shouldn't have been surprised.
Stacy poured wine for her friends. She liked to see Tegan as a friend now because she was nice with Ella. Whoever was nice to her daughter won her heart. She didn't care that Tegan didn't like her anymore, she liked her daughter and that was enough.
Ella was watching cartoons on the floor, eating jelly beans and drinking juice.
Dinner was lighthearted for the first time in so long. Sara, first, interrogated her friend about her situation and the pain, Stacy denied the existence of it as if it was her job to do so. Sara told everyone a story of a clash with a student in class, which made her despise teaching freshmen even more than she already had. Stacy and Tegan were laughing, poking fun of Sara's anger.
Now Tegan was showing Sara how to use Snapchat on her phone but Sara was more lost than she had ever felt before.
"There's no point in teaching her technology. It took my grandma less time to teach her how to use Facebook," Stacy said, taking a seat on the couch next to Sara.
"I still don't get how your grandma uses Facebook."
"She's not as slow as you, that's how." Tegan snorted loudly, making Ella turn around to watch the weird laughter.
"Laugh, laugh at my misery," Sara said. She was struggling to understand what this weird app was supposed to do. "So what? You take pictures of yourself and send them? What's the point of that? I can just send you a picture on Whatsapp."
"It took Sara three months to get used to Whatsapp. She didn't have it on her blackberry and thought it's a 'neat invention.'" If Stacy's job was making Tegan laugh, she was succeeding. Both women, surprisingly, liked that much more than the rivalry.
"You guys are so mean." Sara glared at both women sitting on each side of her. "I'm slow with technology. You both can't…swim."
"Good comeback," Tegan said sarcastically. "I'll repeat. So you take a picture of what you're doing and you can put it as a story or send it on private to only the person you want them to see. It lasts mostly ten seconds and you can see who screenshots it. It's fun because you can add filters and you can save your pictures or videos and it's quicker than Whatsapp."
"Alright, alright. Let me try to use it." Sara grabbed her iPhone again. She flipped to the front camera and cleared her throat; both women appeared in the camera, their wicked smiles made her glower increase. She pressed on the circular button on her touch screen and the picture was taken. It was a disastrous picture, but she could admit in secrecy that it was funny. Her friend and girlfriend were laughing once again. She sent it to her only two contacts: Tegan and Stacy.
"Now you get it. Yay." Tegan sent a quick selfie back, pouting her lips as if she was going to kiss her screen. Sara received it and opened it, feeling accomplished, feeling like a little kid. She blushed, staring at the two proud smiles beside her.
Stacy then asked for Tegan's username, which took Tegan a couple of seconds till she comprehended what Stacy was actually asking. They added each other, but Tegan knew she was going to block Stacy when she reached home.
"So how's your health?" Stacy asked. Tegan squinted her eyes, not knowing whether Stacy was being nice to her or they were past the enemies stage.
"Good," she answered.
"You went to the doctors, you guys?"
"Yup," Sara replied. "We're both good." Sara was aware of Tegan's discomfort, so she answered the way her lover wanted her to. Her friend and girlfriend were getting along, but they were not best buddies, and Tegan was still uncomfortable with any close contact; Sara sensed it all.
"That's great," Stacy whispered. "Ella, time to go to bed."
"No." Ella shook her head without averting her gaze from the television.
"Don't be a naughty girl. I'll make you milk and you will go to bed."
"Yeah, we're going, too," Sara said.
"No, stay," Stacy jumped. "It's still early. I have nothing to do. I don't have to work until next week."
"Oh, by the way," Sara began.
"I want to babysit Ella each day after Sara picks her up," Tegan continued.
Stacy halted her decision of getting up to warm up the milk for her child. She looked at both women with confusion dancing on her small features.
"We know you didn't get her a babysitter," Sara said.
Stacy wasn't able to afford anything; it was not hard to see through the lie. Tegan and Sara discussed this decision before visiting the friend. Tegan didn't mind babysitting the kid, she thought it would get her used to handling kids and she enjoyed Ella's company. Sara wanted to help her friend because what Stacy had done for her was noble and memorable.
"I really wanna babysit her. I enjoy my time with her." Stacy's cheeks turned red. She nodded slowly, feeling embarrassed; feeling exposed; feeling like a bothersome being.
"Alright," Stacy whispered, getting up. Sara smiled weakly at her lover, who secretly pecked her cheek. Everything was happening too quickly in some sense and, magically, it did not terrify the younger woman.
Ella did not sleep. She walked around, drinking her milk and talking to herself. Stacy said Ella was hyper because of all the sugar she had consumed. The women shared a little lazy talk. All three had begun yawning, sharing sluggish laughter that exposed their lethargic states. All three were on different types of medication that made them want to fall asleep earlier than usual.
Ella faced them with the teat of the bottle in her lips. "You should seriously make her stop this," Sara said. Her head fell on her girlfriend's shoulder.
"I tried everything. I even dipped the nipples in vinegar and pickle juice; turns out she loves sour stuff." Stacy yawned. "At least she's not feeding from me like someone."
"Shut up." Sara blushed.
Stacy wiggled her eyebrows, getting up slightly, ready to spill out whatever had been dancing on her tongue for the past few minutes. "Tegan," she started. Sara rolled her eyes, irritation clear on them. "Guess till what age Sara sucked at her mum's tits?" Tegan's eyes became dilated, shocked at the use of words that came all of a sudden in the hours of languor. "Five. Till she was five. Audrey, her, and I used to play and she would take boob milk breaks every few minutes."
Tegan looked at her girlfriend with amused wide eyes, watching the redness increase. "Seriously?" Tegan asked.
"My mum was too attached to let me go." Sara sat up, straightening her frame.
"Wow." Tegan's high-pitched laughter filled the room. "That explains…a lot of things." She gave her girlfriend a smirk, which Stacy noticed and laughed at.
"That's really not funny. I believe it's the source of all my mummy issues. She's really attached in a…"
"Where's your baby?" Ella cut Sara off, holding a picture for the older woman to look at. The four-year-old was chewing on the teat of the bottle. Her questioning eyes were pure and innocent.
"What?" Sara asked.
"Ella," Stacy said gruffly, "give me that." She reached out for the picture, almost tearing it from her daughter's hands. Sara was quicker; she pulled the picture, her eyes not believing what she was witnessing. She blinked and took another look at her younger self with her swollen belly, her happy smile, and her ex husband by her side.
Tegan watched the heartbreak squeeze every happy sinew in Sara's heart and shatter every hopeful dream. She had seen that scene before and had witnessed these eyes before when she kissed her best friend in front of her lover two years ago. She saw the slap of the past strike Sara across the face and tasted the bitterness of loss wrap its arms around Sara as haunting memories all rushed back inside those terrifying orbs she owned.
"I'm so sorry," Stacy whispered. "I had kept all of the pictures taken with my camera. I really am sorry." Stacy's voice began to break. Sara shook her head, handing the picture to Stacy.
"It's alright." Sara got up. It was not alright. "It's just a picture." Sara smiled. It was fake, Tegan could tell. "I think Tegan and I should go. I'll pick Elle up in the morning to drive her to kindergarten, alright?" Stacy nodded.
"Goodnight," Tegan whispered, following the stiffened halo that draped around her lover, closing in and isolating her from the world around her.
Tegan did not say anything, she did not ask any question, and did not make any sound. She knew by now when to speak and when to hush up. Sara did not cry nor break down like the previous night. She drove with the metallic, inert, and lifeless skin weaving itself on her torpid, paralyzed flesh.
"Why did you take these pictures?" Stacy asked, tucking her daughter in bed. "You made auntie Sara upset." The mother frowned. The daughter did, too. "How many times did I tell you not to do things without asking me?" Stacy felt like she kept messing up, increasing the awkwardness of every visit. She promised herself today she wouldn't be that person who killed the life out of Sara's happiness, and somehow she managed to do so.
"I didn't mean to," Ella whispered, wiping tears falling from her eyes. "Does she hate me?"
"No," Stacy said. "Don't cry. She knows you didn't mean to."
"I wanted to know."
"I know." The mother sighed. "You should have asked me."
"Where is that baby?" Ella had reached the conclusion Sara had been pregnant in that picture on her own. Nobody told her that she had been. She always linked things by watching closely. Jack showed up a lot when Sara was sick, which made the child assume he's her husband or boyfriend. And one picture told a lot and spoke thousands of missing words in Ella's brain. She was simply curious.
"It's…" Stacy paused. She didn't know how to explain death to a very small child. She didn't know if Ella knew what death was. She was only four. "It's not here," she said.
"Where is it? Is it a boy or a girl? What's its name?" So many questions flew out of Ella's mouth.
"Ella." Stacy sighed again. She climbed up in bed next to her daughter. Her side ached terribly from the uncomfortable seating positions. She was only supposed to stay in bed and lie down. "I will tell you what happened, but you can't tell Sara or Tegan, alright?" She wasn't even sure if her daughter would get it.
"I promise you." Ella held up her pinkie for her mother.
"Good girl." Stacy planted a kiss on her daughter's forehead, moving her body closer. "Sara was married to Jack. But they got a divorce, like me and daddy. Her baby did not stay in here…she climbed up and…she lives above, in the sky."
"So she died?" Ella summed it up. She was way smarter than anybody thought she was.
"She was a very small and ill baby."
"Oh." Ella frowned. "Did Jack hit Sara like daddy hit you?" Stacy took a deep breath, closing her eyes then opening them up again.
"No," she whispered. "They just had grown ups issues. You won't get it, honey."
"I'm a big girl. I get everything." Ella paused. "So now she loves Tegum and will marry her?" Stacy nodded. "Are you gonna love a girl and marry her, too?" Stacy laughed. "People can love boys and girls, right?"
"Yes," Stacy said. "They can love whoever they want." When she and Sara were young, they both didn't know that was an option, and it was not for Sara's parents. Her parents were not that conservative. They did not care as long as she was happy. Yet, the only woman she fell for was her best friend, since those days she was a cheerleader and Sara was a tomboy with blond spiky hair.
Tegan entered the room, a yawn escaping her lips. She spent some time in the bathroom talking to her mother on the telephone and getting changed into her pajamas. Sara was on the bed, reading a book. Her hair was tied up in a small ponytail and her glasses were sitting on the bridge of her nose. Tegan touched her phone, adjusting the alarm that was supposed to wake her and Sara in the morning. When she looked up, she saw Sara's weak smile greeting her. The topic was forgotten, she thought, no need to bring it up.
"You took too long," Sara said.
"Talking to mom," Tegan answered. "How come you're reading? Aren't you sleepy?"
"Reading relaxes me." Sara reached for her black mug, ready to take a sip of the coffee that was probably inside. Tegan shook her head and smiled. "Coffee does, too."
Tegan crawled on the mattress, reaching Sara's seated frame. She removed the duvet, noticing the profoundly large white t-shirt over her body, failing to cover her chest because of how large the neckline was. "What the fuck is this?" Tegan sat crossed-legged. She lifted up the white material, finding utter nudity underneath. She licked her upper lip, resisting a cunning smirk. "This is like bigger than my dad's size."
"I know." Sara covered up herself again, but Tegan insisted lifting up the shirt a second time. "I have hot flashes and I don't want to sleep naked because you get too horny and touchy."
"You have hot flashes and you're drinking coffee?" Tegan shook her head. She smiled, thinking or scheming, Sara didn't know. She felt Tegan's cold hands on both of her thighs. "You know how Dr. Anderson said I don't have a high sex drive? Like, that's bullshit, I am always wet."
"Tegan, what are you doing?" Tegan pushed her head inside the shirt, making Sara's sweat trail down her face. "I really…am…not…" Sara gulped. Wet…go ahead and say it. I'm not wet. I can't do this right now. I'm not feeling it. Sara jumped, feeling Tegan's head on her stomach. "Seriously, babe, what are you doing?"
"Surprise," Tegan shouted, pushing her head out of the neck of the shirt. "We're both wearing the same large shirt now and it's still so large." Sara sighed. She shifted in her place to get comfortable with Tegan's weight on top of her. "You're so warm." Tegan's cold palms went up and down Sara's sides, giving chilliness to the heated skin. "See? I didn't touch you inappropriately. I can control it. I'm not even that horny, to be honest."
"This is why she said you don't have a high sex drive." Sara smirked. "You can look at my pussy and not get wet." Tegan slapped Sara's left side, peals of laughter evaded her lips. "But seriously," Sara continued, "you don't have a high sex drive because I haven't seen you touch yourself the entire time. I used to touch myself more than three times if there's no sex when I was your age."
"You're just a big horny woman," Tegan whispered, planting a kiss on Sara's upper chest. "Plus, I do take my showers alone, you know."
"I'm sorry." Sara put her book aside. She touched Tegan's hair and brushed the stray locks out of the way while the younger woman lay down on her chest. "You can always ask me to help you out, Tegan. It doesn't matter for me. I don't want you to have this dead sex life."
"Sara." Tegan lifted up her a head a little. "You do know these side effects will disappear, right? Just give them time."
"You asked your mum, didn't you?"
"Yes," Tegan admitted. Her small finger circled Sara's light pink areola, waiting for her nipple to harden. "So," Tegan wanted to break the ice, "five years, huh?"
"Come on," Sara said with laughter interrupting her sentence. "You're never gonna let that go, huh?"
"It explains your boobs obsession, to be honest."
"No, that's wrong." Tegan circled the now hardened bud. Her smirk was vibrant and youthful. "That has nothing to do with it."
"Pretty sure it does." Tegan kissed the nipple. "It's like my thumb sucking guilt, though."
"Which is why you like sucking my clit?"
"That just doesn't make sense."
"Exactly." Sara raised her brows. "Fucking Stacy, she can't keep anything in her mouth. She tries to let go of her misery by exposing other people's miseries."
"Oh, come one." Tegan pinched lightly on the nipple, making Sara wince. "Stacy seems to try so hard to be liked by moi, but she just can't win. I appreciate the attempts, though."
"Stacy tries so hard to appear as if she owns the joy of the world. This is the act she pulls when she's dying inside. I know it too well. I know she's a mess but she has to prove that she's iron woman, thinking I don't see through her."
Tegan yawned. She lay on Sara's chest once again. You, too, try to be iron woman, Tegan wanted to say. "We're all iron women in some way. We all have our hardships and grief, Sara," she said instead. She closed her eyes, listening to the beating of her lover's broken heart.
Tegan fell asleep on her lover's body. Sara couldn't close an eye as she thought of the events of the day. It was a good day, but then her mood was down to zero in a minute. She tried to shake the thoughts away, but she couldn't. The picture kept popping up in her head, reminding her of the happiest times of her life. She wanted nothing in this hour of mental destruction but to hold that child she had waited too long to cuddle and enfold. She looked down and there was another human in her embrace, not as small as a child, but a child in every other sense. Innocence and youth blanketed her frame, and even though her breasts ached from the mass of the head that slept above them, she didn't mind at all. She kissed Tegan's head, sipping her coffee in silence, despite the loudness of her thoughts.
Her mental to-do list was massive. She still hadn't bought a ring, nor proposed like people should do. She never proposed to a woman, she was only proposed to by a man. But she had done it verbally anyway, so it shouldn't be hard. She would have to go house hunting. She would have to watch Tegan's diet. She would have to get herself a little bit flexible with sexual activities even when she was not in the mood to perform them. She had papers to correct and tests to write. She would have to take care of her friend's daughter and would have to make her own child. She would have to find a donor. She would have to set a wedding date, actually. Would she make a big wedding or a small one? She didn't have much people to invite, anyway. She didn't want to invite her mother, that's for sure. She didn't even want to tell her mother about that. She didn't want more outside powers to destroy her planning, the internal ones were perfectly doing their job. What if she couldn't afford anything? What if Tegan changed her mind? What if she was sick again? What if the baby didn't survive like it happened before? The questions submerged her brain, making her coffee dance in her stomach, ready to escape her mouth. Her head ached and her skin burned, and the more she burned the higher the pain increased in her breasts. She shrieked out of pain, instantly waking up the woman sleeping on her.
"What's wrong?" Tegan got up, pulling Sara up with her; she forgot she was still wrapped up in Sara's shirt with Sara.
"Nothing," Sara replied quickly, like a kid trying to hide their bad actions from their mother.
"Sara?" Tegan asked again.
"I…it's just that you were asleep on my breasts and it hurt." Sara's broken voice betrayed her, her heated flesh exposed her, her hesitancy revealed the truth creeping behind her honey-colored eyes.
Tegan pushed her body backward, freeing herself from the grip of the cotton material that hugged her lover and herself together. The student rubbed her eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry."
Sara nodded.
"Cry," Tegan said. "Just cry."
Sara shook her head, tears doing the contrary, streaming down her face.
"Cry, Sara," Tegan repeated. "You need to cry and let it out. It's not healthy."
"It's not worth crying over past wounds."
"It is, yes. It is still there and it had been fired up today." Sara's tears rained down her face but her face remained frozen, trying its best to make the liquid freeze and become ice standing on her cheekbones instead of trailing down her chin with its wet saltiness. "Sob, weep, wail, scream. Do it, cry, you need it."
"I'm sick of crying." Sara choked on a suppressed, beaten up sob. "Why can't I let it go and be happy?"
"Because you're a human being," Tegan said, "and human beings cannot forget easily. We're not made of iron, Sara, we're made of flesh and bones and tons and tons of feelings. We're sensitive and we're emotional. We've been through a lot and we can't keep it locked up. I am not Stacy; I'll keep repeating it till you believe it. Crying shows me you're a human and you have feelings. I don't want you to be hard on yourself, I want you to feel everything strongly and powerfully and let it out the way you wish to. I am your lover, your friend, and your baby."
"Oh my god." Sara cupped her lips as her heart thundered thousands of cries due to the words she heard. Tegan reached out for her and the older woman accepted the sudden embrace, removing the mask she had worn in the morning, revealing the soft skin of a woman on her way to recovery.
"I will also be your wife and the mother of your child, alright? And then you'll cry in the middle of the night because your child wouldn't let you sleep, and you'll remember these days and laugh at yourself. But, please, don't think it's stupid or unworthy right now. Later it might be, but now it's important. So cry and purify these soiled and grubby emotions."
Sara cried and spent too long crying and telling her feelings out loud. "It hurt badly," she kept repeating. "It's like I was hit by a train. It's like somebody kicked me where the surgeries were done," she said, too. "It's like it was a reminder I'll never be able to feel the wholeness of love or experience the joy of a family, and the more I think the frightened I get."
Tegan couldn't say much but give her lover assurances that things would be alright. That's what those who weren't able to feel that much pain were able to do: apologize and promise a better life.