Radclyffe - Love On Call

“I don’t get it,” Blake said. “Them, I mean. Why be that way?”

Margie sighed. Sometimes, Blake was clueless, but then, weren’t all guys when it came to girls? She leaned forward and lowered her voice, aware that Kaylee and company were still watching them. “You’re the new guy, the cute new guy, and you’re supposed to be paying attention to them, not somebody like me.”

“What are you talking about? Somebody like you? You mean smart and funny and cute, instead of stuck-up and just downright…well, mean ?”

“Whoa,” Margie said, feeling her face flame. Jeez, she didn’t want to be blushing in front of those girls. They’d think Blake had just said something way personal. Of course, he had, and that was kind of weird. Nice, but, jeez. “Is that what you think?”

Blake stared at the tabletop. “Well, yeah. I just figured you knew that.”

Margie laughed. “Well, how am I supposed to know that if you never said anything?”

Blake lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know, don’t you ever look in the mirror?”

“Not where I spend a lot of time. Do you?”

“Uh…” Blake wondered if he should answer for real or just shrug it off. But it was Margie asking, right? And she got him. She never got turned off or made him feel like some kind of freak by anything he confessed. Being able to tell someone besides his mom, instead of his mom, about all the things he kept hidden made him feel normal. “I didn’t use to like looking in a mirror because every time I did, I got this creepy feeling that everything was all wrong. That the person looking back wasn’t me.” He laughed and picked the edge of his paper plate. “Now I probably look too much.”

“Is the right person looking back?”

Blake grinned, still not meeting her eyes. Still a little embarrassed, or maybe not embarrassed exactly, but self-conscious. “Yeah, pretty much, anyhow. More all the time.”

“Well, I’ve probably never said this,” Margie said, “in so many words, I mean, but like I said—you’re a cute guy.”

Blake raised his eyes. “You think by the time school starts, everybody will know about me, and maybe it’ll already be over?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anybody else like you, at least not here.” Margie sighed. “Some kids are just jerks, but you’ll be okay, sooner or later.”

“Yeah, it’s the later I’m worried about.” Blake straightened his shoulders. “Anyhow, I wasn’t talking about QB and Co. I don’t care what they have to say. I was wondering about Glenn and Mari. Do you think they’re talking about us?”

Margie glanced over to where Glenn sat with a petite, pretty woman with gorgeous black hair that shimmered even in the crappy light from the dingy fluorescents. Did everyone but her have to have great hair? “How do you know her name? I’ve never seen her before.”

“Oh, I saw her today in the ER. She’s a new physician assistant. We’ll be working with her.”

“That’s cool.” Margie snorted. “They look like they’re on a date. I don’t think they’re thinking about us.”

“You don’t think Glenn is gonna say anything to my mom, do you?”

“About those bitches being bitchy?” Margie shook her head. “That’s not Glenn. If she’s worried about them hassling us, she’ll do something about it herself.”

“She won’t, though, will she?”

“I don’t think so. Not when we asked her not to.”

“That’s good, because I think the best thing to do is just ignore them,” Blake said. “If we ignore them, maybe they’ll quit.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Margie caught Kaylee sneering in their direction. She could handle the nastiness—she’d never wanted to be one of Kaylee’s crowd—but she wasn’t so sure she could ignore them if they made Blake a target for their meanness.

*

Mari searched for a place to start a story she’d never told before. “My family is a big one. Seven kids.”

Glenn whistled. “That’s kind of unusual today.”

“Catholic. Anti-contraception.”

“Brothers or sisters?”

“All brothers except my sister and me.” Mari’s voice caught and she cleared her throat. “Selena. She’s my twin. We’re the oldest.” When Glenn politely didn’t ask, she added, “Twenty-five.”

“A twin. That’s got to be special.”

“Oh, it was. Is—I mean.” Mari began folding the straw wrapper into tiny accordion shapes, staring at her hands until she saw they were trembling. She put them in her lap. When she looked up, Glenn was studying her with that same singular intensity.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Glenn said softly. “Your story, remember?”

“I want to. I haven’t, with anyone. But you’re a good listener.”

Glenn smiled. “No one is going to be fighting for our table. Take your time.”

“About a year ago, I was kind of forced to take a good look at my life, and I finally admitted to myself what I’d pretty much always known, that I was a lesbian.” Mari shook her head. “Boy, does that sound dumb now. I dated on and off in high school, lots of times double-dating with my sister, but that kind of trickled off when I hit my twenties. Selena dated enough for both of us, but my mother was pushing us both to get serious.”

“Let me guess,” Glenn said. “Grandchildren.”

“Oh, yeah. As soon as possible, now that all of her own kids are at least teenagers.”

“And?”

“And I never really could see myself with any of the guys I dated. A couple of them were nice and wanted to get serious, but I felt like I was only partly there. Something was missing—not with them, or at least not anything that was their fault. But something I wanted to feel, I just didn’t.”

Glenn nodded faintly and said nothing, waiting. From anyone else the silence would have been unnerving, but Mari sensed her attention like a touch. “When I got to a point where lying to myself about anything seemed pointless, I needed to tell my family. I needed them to know me.”

“And they didn’t take it well?”

Mari laughed, feeling the tears pool on her lashes. She blinked angrily. “My father is still not speaking to me except through my mother. My mother is waiting for me to outgrow this crazy phase. The worst, though, is Selena. She hasn’t talked to me since I told her.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Well,” Mari said with a long sigh, “like I said, familiar story.” She glanced over at Blake and Margie, who were sharing pizza and talking with their heads bent close. “I know it has to be a lot harder for him in a lot of ways, adding all the physical changes to the emotional ones, but I envy him his mother’s support.” She glanced at Glenn. “And that of his friends.”

“He’s got plenty of people on his side, and he’s a really strong kid.” Glenn reached across the table and squeezed Mari’s hand. “Like you.”

“I don’t feel so strong sometimes.”

“Hey, you must have suspected how your family’d react,” Glenn said. “But you did it just the same, and that took guts.”

“I’d do it again,” Mari said finally, and knowing that helped. “I just wish they could love the person I’ve always been.”

“Maybe they will one day,” Glenn said.

“Maybe. Anyhow, thanks for listening.”

“Anytime,” Glenn said. There was more to the story, but she knew all too well some things couldn’t be uncovered all at once.

Mari pushed away the melancholy. Whatever her family did or didn’t do, she had a life to build. “What about you? Is your family around here?”

Glenn grimaced. “I don’t have much family to speak of. My mom died when I was about thirteen, and my old man is a drunk. I got out of Texas as soon as I could, and we don’t keep in touch.”