She ordered another drink and then walked to the most secluded spot that she could find on the terrace, zigzagging around colorful clusters of people, which were only a big blob to her, people that could be looking at her or not, talking about her or not. She was accustomed to all of it.
There was a bench there, half hidden by the droopy leaves of a palm tree, half engulfed by the other plants, and she suddenly liked it very much; she kind of felt like that bench, if such a thing could be possible. It was a fine place to watch the night go by.
She’d watched every night go by, faster or slower (depending on the quantity of alcohol units swallowed) since that night: the night she would never forget. Believe me, I’ve tried, she mentally assured anyone in particular. In fact, she had tried everything: both forgetting and not forgetting. Pain was like that; sometimes you wanted to walk away from it and sometimes all you wanted was to walk straight at it. And let it hit you, and hit you, and hit you, and then you wanna roll in the shit.
Trying to establish contact with Lena had proved impossible. Of course, the only common link between them was their boyfriends, who had been buddies in grade school, and reunited on the night she met Lena. She’d tried to make Alex arrange a double date (something that had surprised him very, very much, since she was the greatest antisocial), but he had always received a polite negative answer. Yulia finally let it sink in: Lena didn’t want to see her, so the sooner she got to the drinking part, the better.
One hour later -or perhaps several-, she had smoked all her cigarettes, and her drink had disappeared ages ago - she didn’t even know what she’d done with the tube-shaped glass. Yulia began weighing her chances of success if she went to find Alex and told him that she wanted to go home. He wouldn’t want to go, of course, but there was a chance that he would comply. She would have to agree (in their usual unspoken way) to have sex with him and make it worth it. It had happened many times before, and she didn’t mind it too much; in fact, she was drunk enough to say “whatever” and sell herself real cheap. But still… no, she wouldn’t go to him. She wouldn’t bear feeling any worse. Alex was good to her -better than some, she used to think to herself-, and certainly good to her business, but that didn’t add up to much in her book. Just a joke of a mock relationship… she didn’t need to feel any more of that.
What she did need quite badly, though, was a cigarette. She stood up and looked around, wondering who to ask, because she wasn’t going to face any of those bitches that hated her. A few meters to the left she saw a girl, standing alone: a smudge of dark-red hair and black shirt. Yulia approached her from behind and tapped her shoulder, praying that the girl was a smoker.
“Excuse me,” she said, in the most polite voice she could modulate in her state. “Do you have a cigarette?”
The girl turned around, and the first thing that Yulia saw were her hands, holding a glass and a cigarette. Good. Smoker, she thought, and then looked up at her face. Not good. But her body was paralyzed; only her mouth moved, to drop open. She couldn’t believe it, and still, they were only centimeters away.
“Yulia,” the girl said, keeping her big, green eyes wide open for a second.
“L-l-lena?” she muttered, feeling completely ridiculous.
Of course it was Lena. It had been… how long? No, she didn’t even want to think about the weeks. It had taken a constant and thorough therapy of booze to keep her eyes from scanning every single girl at every party (Alex was certainly beginning to wonder if she was an alcoholic), and another bunch of weeks before her hopes of bumping into the redhead died. But that wasn’t really forgetting, was it? It was just putting something away in a drawer you almost never open, knowing that it’s there, even if you may not see it at first glance.
And Yulia had ended up being what she was now: a shell, unable to be or feel anything. But of course, Lena didn’t know anything about her state.
The drawer had been opened violently, making the memories surround her, flying around like scattered sheets of paper, some of them sticking to her face.
“Well, it’s been…” Lena said, smiling a little and shaking her head.
“A long time,” Yulia finished for her, taking advantage of the pause, not really wanting dates and numbers… not really wanting Lena’s smile either, because each smile was like a stab. But what could she do about it, when she still couldn’t manage to move?
“Yes, a long time. So, how are you?” asked the redhead, with a casual tone.
“Oh, I’m fine, yeah… You know, nothing new. Nice party, isn’t it?” she barked a little laugh that made her feel like an idiot and probably look like an idiot too. I am an idiot. “How are you?”
“I’m good. This is the first free night I’ve had in… I don’t know, a month?”
“Really? Are you working? Or still studying?”
“How do you know that?”
There was genuine surprise in her voice, which in turn surprised Yulia very much, but how could Lena know that Yulia had asked Alex about her (as discreetly and apart in time as she could make it), even if he didn’t know much?
Yulia’s answer was a shrug. Her eyes were dancing everywhere: from her shoes, to Lena’s face, to her own busy hands, to Lena’s hand grasping the glass, to Lena’s lips sucking on the cigarette. She was driving herself crazy, but the small talk was doing worse, drilling her brain. It was killing her. I don’t want this. I want to run away and hide behind the bench. Or better behind the bushes.
“Well, I got my tests next week and then it’s over: I’ll be a psychologist,” Lena said, with mock pride, raising her glass and taking a sip. “But I really needed a break; hence me, plus drink, plus party.”
“Are you… uh, are you here with someone?”
The inevitable question. Lena’s eyebrows frowned for less than a second, but Yulia caught on it straight away. She felt ashamed of herself, and deeply afraid that Lena would end their frugal conversation any minute. Okay, the small talk could be killing her, but it was certainly better than nothing, much better than the previous months. She couldn’t get over how calm Lena was - icy as ever, but always polite, of course.
“Yes,” Lena answered, serious but natural, “of course.”
“Me too,” Yulia said, even if she hadn’t been asked, sounding anything but natural.
What was she trying to do, counteract her own anger? Of course she’s here with someone! What did you expect? “No, I’m all alone, please take me home, Yulia”? She looked away, fixing her crazed eyes on the leaves of a plant and tracing its fibres, but not really acknowledging what she was doing. Don’t ask what you’re thinking. Don’t ask if he’s a friend, or Phil, or someone she wants more than you. At the same time, she was afraid of the silence, since it would surely make Lena end the conversation.
“Here,” Lena said.
Her stomach did a flip-flop, as she wondered what was being offered to her, but Lena was only handing her the cigarette she’d asked for a few moments before, although it felt like a million years. Her heart increased its rhythm as the tips of their fingers brushed almost imperceptibly.
How utterly pathetic could she be, holding on to anything to keep that meeting going? But going where, when this was going nowhere?
“Have a light?” she asked, desperately.
“Sure.”
Lena handed her a lighter, and she lit up after no less than three attempts. You’re making a fool of yourself, Yulia.
I know, she answered herself. Why did she have to give me the lighter? She could’ve held the light for me, and then I would’ve touched her hand to direct the flame and she would’ve felt what I’m feeling. The fucking flame inside me.
What am I saying? God, I think I’ve lost my mind completely.
“Thanks,” she almost whispered meekly, not daring to lift her eyes and encounter Lena’s goodbye.
“You know, Yulia, I was wondering something. I know it’s been a very long time since we last saw each other, but…”
“Yes?” she dared to look up, wondering if seeing Lena’s face would actually offer her some clue of what was going on in her mind. However, as she knew very well, it hardly ever did. And so, whatever the redhead was going to say or do would be a surprise, like it always was.
“I was wondering… Do you want to get lost?”
“Get lost”? Yulia stood completely still, completely dumbstruck and unbelieving.
“Yes.”
No. It couldn’t be. She had to be daydreaming like many times before, when she relived every one of their words before reliving every one of their touches. Yulia dared to fix her eyes on Lena’s, wondering if it was all some cruel joke, but she only found corroboration in those greyish-green orbs. There was a sureness in Lena’s every move and word that disarmed her completely.
But she wasn’t anybody’s slave. After all, she was Yulia Volkova. That used to mean something. That means something, she asserted, closing up one fist. Enough with the weak and whiny.
“Well,” Yulia said, “what do you mean with that?”
“You know what I mean.” Lena was a little taken aback, and that meant being defensive. Yulia was indeed learning how to translate her.
“Just to be sure. Do you mean scurrying away guiltily and then scurrying back even more guiltily so that we can pretend it never happened?”
Part of Yulia couldn’t quite believe she’d just pronounced those words, but, truly, what did Lena know about her? Had Yulia given the impression of being a meek person? She admitted to herself that her recent behavior perhaps hadn’t done much in her favor, and that was why Lena looked somewhat surprised now.
“I see you’re not interested.” Lena said, beginning to turn around.
And this is my cue to stop her, Yulia thought, holding the cigarette between her lips like the bad guys in the movies. But I won’t. She watched Lena turn around completely and walk away casually as ever, as if she’d just asked someone for directions. No one would say she’s just asked me to have sex again. Of course not; Lena was a lady, wasn’t she?
Yulia puffed away a long, twisted string of smoke she’d been holding and half-closed her eyes. Yeah, what a lady. A lady that had touched her in the darkness like no one had touched her before. A woman, yes. Was that the fucking problem?
How could she be so damn fascinating and so fucking annoying at the same time? Yulia straightened her back and raised her head to try and see where Lena had gone. This is crazy. The moment she disappears you want to have her with you. You know you’ve been miserable for weeks and weeks. And the moment you have her, you push her away.
Fuck. Whatever. Yulia dropped her cigarette on the floor and stepped on it before following the direction that Lena had taken. Whenever she was in front of the redhead, strange things happened to her. Her emotions were like a graph full of ups and downs, and there was no controlling it. But she had wanted Lena badly during all those weeks - that was the common factor. She even wanted her now, just as badly.
Where the hell she’d gone? Yulia glanced around nervously - maybe too nervously, since she was beginning to get noticed by two groups of girls that were next to her. Overdressed for the occasion and very obviously wanting all the male attention they could get, the ten or so girls were okay with delaying their goal if it meant glaring and sneering at Yulia.
“Look, that’s Alex’s...”
“That’s Alex’s...? ... What is he doing with...?”
She could hear bits of their chattering, and was used to their hatred. Almost always it had to do with Alex, and more than once she’d wanted to go to them and say: “You know what, you’re right”. But she hadn’t. Was she using Alex? No doubt about it. Was Alex using her? Of course he was. Was Alex sleeping around with some of those bitches? She didn’t know and didn’t ask. Who wouldn’t? Who wouldn’t sleep around when even straight-laced Lady Lena had done it?
Where could she be? Yulia glanced around a little more, got a nasty comment (“If you’re looking for the bar, it’s over there”) and its accompanying chorus of laughter, and finally headed to the restroom. She pressed her back against the open door to let three giggling girls out and then found herself alone in front of the mirror.
There was someone moving inside of one of the small booths. Yulia heard a sniff and then the toilet being flushed. Great, someone’s snorting coke, she thought, pretending to wash her hands so that the person coming out wouldn’t glare at her for knowing. Well, hello, you’re the one doing it in a public place!The door opened and she heard the person come out, but she didn’t look up. Nope, just washin’ my hands here... However, the person wasn’t moving, so she went to dry her hands, but couldn’t resist it any longer and finally raised her eyes.
It was Lena. Lena, still as a statue, staring right at her, her green eyes fixed on Yulia’s reflection. They were looking at each other’s reflection, but they were speaking the truth through her eyes. Suddenly, she felt naked, as if those eyes were capable of seeing under her clothes and even beyond. Who was this person? Was this the same Lena that had just turned around and left, as if Yulia was the thing she cared less for in the world? Questions, questions…
Yulia faced the redhead, shook her head to herself and walked straight towards her, not stopping, as if Lena was a wall she wanted to run against. But she wasn’t a wall. Lena was prepared to receive her immediately with lips and hands. The brunette just closed her eyes and pushed into Lena’s body with everything she had, and the other girl walked backwards until they were enclosed inside one of the little cabinets.
It was as natural as walking. She pushed until they found the wall, and then she was completely lost in all the things she had missed during those unending weeks. She wanted them all at once, and the same was happening to Lena, it seemed. They were grabbing at each other in a confusing tangle of hands and legs, and she desired it so much that it was driving her crazy. She groaned frustratingly and pulled up Lena’s already-short skirt while the redhead quickly unbuttoned her pants. Yulia dove into Lena’s mouth while their hands slid between each other’s legs, and smiled when she felt the girl biting her lower lip.
“Faster,” she mumbled into Lena’s mouth, detaching herself from it to kiss her neck. “I’m almost… there.”
The redhead was gasping now, and Yulia knew that she was almost there too, even if nothing more was coming out from her lips. She sped up the pace of her hand and felt an immediate reaction. Lena stiffened and pressed her face against Yulia’s neck, kissing and biting.
So fucking good. So… fucking… good. Those were the only thoughts that entered her mind during those moments, when she came as if a bolt of lightning had struck and shaken her body. She had the mind to push her mouth against Lena’s to muffle any sound, playing with her tongue. It was so delicious, so…
“Fucking great,” she gasped, resting her head against the wall and trying to recover her lost breath.
She glanced at the redhead through semi-closed eyelids and suddenly felt scared that she would run away once more.
“Lena?”
The redhead was gasping too, but placed a finger over her own lips to hush Yulia.
“Okay,” she whispered, praying that there was something more than silence.
“I’ll go out first,” Lena whispered, beginning to smooth down her skirt.
“Please,” Yulia said, blocking the exit and still breathing hurriedly. “We need to talk, don’t you think? Let me call you.”
There was an eternal pause. “I’ll call you. Here, write your number.”
Lena handed over her cell-phone, and Yulia typed in the numbers, although how she managed to remember them she didn’t know. With that, the redhead squeezed out between Yulia’s body and the doorway and disappeared, and the brunette was left on her own to button up her pants and think. She was expecting to wake up any minute because she couldn’t believe that the thing she had fantasized about for so long had actually happened. Again.
And she’s got my number. Yulia sat on the toilet and dropped her head backwards until she felt the cold, tiled wall. Lena would be searching for Phil or whoever she came with, pretending she wasn’t feeling well again or something, and he would be all kind like that last time. No, Yulia didn’t like it at all. It was eating her up. Was it…? Could it be jealousy?
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