To Be a Lesbian Page 3

  I shrugged. "I don't see why not." We went here to explore anyway. And like a kid going to a candy store, Lulu pulled me there.

  "Wicked!" she exclaimed when we were outside. Lulu was staring at the wooden sign, hanging just above our heads. "It's what I imagined a cauldron shop to look like." Anything that had to do with supernatural or mysterious stuff got her going, even a bookstore that was reminiscent of them. The wind chimes hanging on the door tinkled pleasantly when we entered.

  "Take a look around and meet me at the counter later," I instructed her before we parted. "Don't buy too much. We didn't take the car." With the way her eyes traveled the shop, I doubt if she heard a word I said.

  The bookstore had an acceptable selection of paperbacks and textbooks, notebooks and office supplies. For the time being, I would have to rely on them before visiting the university library. While searching for something to take home, I saw a tape recorder on one of the corner shelves, tucked away and barely noticeable. Lady luck was guiding me to the right path. It was exactly what I needed for my project; lightweight, could be configured in seconds, a real researcher's friend. Taking the recorder, I backtracked my steps to search for Lulu.

  "A minute of your time, miss," someone spoke behind me. I swung around to find a buff, linebacker type of guy who had friendly eyes and a nice smile. I know what you might be thinking. This was the chapter Scotland met her partner in crime, the person she'd marry in the future, have babies with, and take on the world with fire and smoke. Well yes and no.

  "Anything you can do for me?" I said, forgetting for a moment that I've decided to take on a new leaf. "Err, anything I can do for you?"

  He showed me a sealed recorder. "I saw you choosing a while ago," he said.

  "How stalkerish of you."

  His face reddened. "I'm just concerned that you picked the wrong choice. I'm also using a recording device for study purposes, and based on my experience, the one you're planning to buy is a waste of money. This is better."

  Waste of money, he said. What did he know about that? I checked him from head to foot. Blue shirt. Khaki pants. Slightly loose necktie. Ivy league. I plucked the suggested recorder from his hand. "I'll buy this then. Thank you." I went back to the cashier where Lulu was now paying for her own finds.

  "What's that for?" she said, eyeing my recorder.

  "My project."

  "And who's that?" She gestured behind me. Mr. Ivy smiled sheepishly when I glanced to see what she was referring to.

  "I don't know," I said coolly. "He told me what recorder to get. Maybe he also wants to sell me his mixed tape."

  Mr. Ivy stepped forward. "Actually, I'd like to ask you for dinner," he said.

  Lulu shook her head and proceeded to pay. She was used to this, me being asked by random guys for dates out of the blue. My shelter from it in high school was to get a boyfriend, so I could always say I was in a relationship and not have to deal with broken hearts. I always ended up breaking the hearts of my exes too. Something was often lacking.

  "I'm not in the mood for dinner with other people," I said. "My friend and I are new to this town and I prefer to take in the sights before anything. Maybe some other time."

  He regarded me for a second before saying, "I've been studying in the area for a year. Instead of finding your way and possibly getting lost, wouldn't it be better if I come along?" I should have known that he wasn't taking no for an answer, as with most of the people who wanted to date me in the past.

  "I think it's a great idea," Lulu piped in. Her new purchase was wrapped in her arms, sealed in a paper bag by the cashier. "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner's on you. I can't wait."

  Mr. Ivy kept his promise by showing us the neighborhood, or what little of it we could travel, while he acted like a tour guide after eating brunch. By six o'clock in the evening, he had directed us to the shopping district, the market, a small art gallery, and a couple of houses that had been converted to give you the distinct feeling that you've stepped back in time when you gaze at them. Lulu and I didn't complain once. We were used to sightseeing, and our stop by a locally owned cafe an hour ago had given us enough time to rest.

  "For dinner, I'm going to take you to a section in town that everyone likes to call the Little Italy," Mr. Ivy said. "My good friend is co-owner of a restaurant there. We can swing by, then watch in the theatre after eating. What do you say?"

  "You guys go ahead," Lulu said, making a show of rubbing her stomach. "I've had enough good food for the night. I'd like to sleep." She pushed me to Mr. Ivy before I could tell them that I was going home too. "Have fun, both of you. I'm taking a cab."

  Everything you've had the pleasure of reading so far were my thoughts put into paper, which had been then transcribed into a book. I'd like to be completely honest with you, since our journey had just begun, and it wouldn't do well to lie to someone privy to my thoughts. Mr. Ivy had asked me for dinner because he wanted to sleep with me. That's why I didn't bother with formal introductions. If it wasn't obvious when Lulu was with us, he made it apparent later when he was asking me to drink too many glasses of wine in his friend's restaurant.

  It was the oldest trick in the book, and I wouldn't fall for it for several reasons. One, because I wasn't stupid, and two, because I had a high tolerance for alcohol. I'd even won second place in a beer drinking competition because of that. It wasn't a small feat considering the champion was Irish, we were in their home turf, and his buddies were egging him on to win. They didn't want to be out drank by a sixteen year old. (Shhh. Don't tell my parents.) Needless to say, I wasn't intoxicated after a glass or two today. Even five.

  "Do you want to get some fresh air?" Mr. Ivy said, tracing his fingers on my skin. The wine had given him the boost of courage to be flirtatious.

  "Fine, lead the way." It would be the perfect opportunity to segue home. "I need to go soon," I said as I followed him out of the establishment. "Lulu must be getting worried."

  "You can call your friend to tell her you're okay." I would have if my phone didn't die an hour ago. And who said I was okay? His breath stank, and he was getting too touchy. After stumbling like an idiot on the alley, he stopped beside a brick wall, his face pink from the booze. "The nice hotels are out of the way," he said, not wasting another second. "And I'm really horny. Can we fuck here first before switching locations?"

  While he was politely explaining that he wanted to soil me on that dirty place, me- a Roth, a person from a distinguished clan who was going to inherit more money than he could ever see in his lifetime, and to top it off, make a difference in the world through my findings, Mr. Ivy had managed to unbuckle his belt, unzip his pants, and show me his ding-dong. I laughed, and it was wasn't a giggle either. "You're planning to screw me with that?" I said.

  He glanced down. "What's wrong with it?"

  "It would be nice if I can see it, for one. What do you call that thing, teeny-weenie?" His face went scarlet. I didn't want to hurt the guy. It just happened. "Look," I said, before it grew out of hand. "The dinner was lovely. You're an interesting person, but this is taking it too far." I put my back to him and crossed my arms. If the monk who trained me knew of this, he'd punish me for being so arrogant. An angry man could be a dangerous man, even with wine on his head. "I'm a Roth," I revealed. "Nathan Roth, who I'm sure you've heard of, is my father. I suggest you run along before you get yourself in trouble."

  "Bitch!" he cursed. I waited for him to do something bad, to smash my head against the wall or something. But the trick had worked. It always did. His footsteps soon faded away. I bit my tongue back with displeasure. Swearing not to use my parent's influence was proving harder than it seemed. But I sure would try hard. That I promise.

  Drunk or not, he was gone when I glanced back, and so was my ride home. Another problem altogether since I wasn't acquainted to the place. Yet I have kept my wits about, and problems always had solutions. Mine was in the form of a yellow cab. "Taxi!" I yelled, waving my arms about. Did the driver see me? I had only
gotten out of the alley. "Taxi!"

  The cab made a U-turn and stopped directly on the side street I was standing on. The soft seat was heaven for my aching muscles. The absent light relaxed my weary eyes. If I could say so myself, the day has finally caught up with me. "Along the Borough, please," I said, glancing at the rearview mirror. It was sunglasses and not a pair of eyeballs that stared back at me. Curious. "Why, pray tell, are you wearing shades at night?"

  "Medical condition," answered a rich, sultry voice of a woman. The kind that demanded attention. Interesting. I shifted on my seat to look at the rest of her face. It wasn't often I had the pleasure of meeting a female cab driver in these parts. Pfff. It was too dark, and she had a cap on. All I could make out was the ring she was wearing, which had the design of a panther. Or was it a tiger? Why was I so interested anyway? It wasn't like we'd be friends. I leaned my head on the leather and closed my eyes for a second. A moment of rest.

  Chapter 4

  I had many strange experiences. There was the time that Casper was mistaken as a fugitive in another country, not because he was deceptively eloquent, opinionated, nor was it due to the wallet he was carrying that had a suspicious amount of money in it. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time. For the sake of argument, maybe it was my fault that lead the authorities to think that way. Maybe I wanted to see how they'd react if I used reverse psychology on them. My parents weren't happy that they had to make some calls to clear things out. Casper in particular was fuming mad.

  Who could forget that instance when I seduced the Sultan's son with promises of a good night even though he was engaged? There were threats of beheading after he was found leaving his chamber straight for the guest room. My room. Yada, yada, yada. All's well that ends well, I say. We weren't banned from the country after things were sorted. He still pursued his wedding. They were overreacting.

  I could read what's on your mind, the one whose eyes were on this story. How come so many things have happened to me? Here's the simple answer. It was to my belief that adventure should be pursued, not wished for. In time, when adventure has become a friend, an ally, the wheels would turn. You would no longer need to chase after adventure. It would come for you. Maybe that was what happened to me, which brings us back to the story.

  Among the many different strange experiences I had, this was probably the least unannounced. Me waking up on the floor, head leaning on a door frame, legs crossed. I was woken by someone tapping my shoulders saying, "Excuse me. Can you let me pass through?" I looked around in a state of confusion till she said again, "I'd really want to go home. You're in the way." I realized that I was beyond a doorway, blocking her exit.

  "Sorry," I said, moving away. The woman didn't look behind as she left in a hurry. I sat there for a minute or two, wondering where I was, recounting the events that happened prior. Did I hit my head?

  What was a girl to do in this situation except glance southwards to see if her clothes had been disturbed? Mine wasn't. My jeans was positioned correctly, zipper up, buttoned into place. I exhaled. Losing my virginity while passed out wasn't good. No siree. Even if Lulu would classify me as the biggest tease, everything about me was intact. Mayer would be proud. Who was Mayer again?

  After the assessment, I pushed myself up with a grunt and looked behind me, to the place I have taken refuge from. There were people, lots of them. Maybe someone from inside could give me information.

  Soft, catchy jazz music reached my ears soon as I opened the door. The smell of roasted beans and cream was much appreciated. It was a full house for the cafe, though I recognized none of the customers. "Hi," I said when I reached the counter. The barista, a stooped old lady wearing a yellow apron and a flower crown, nodded her acknowledgement. Everyone was wearing flower crowns apart from me. Did I stumble into a party of some sort? "This may seem weird coming from a stranger." I turned back to her. "Did you see anyone, uhh, suspicious in the vicinity? I woke up next to your door a while ago. I was wondering who brought me here."

  Crow's feet appeared on the side of her eyes as she fixed a gaze on me. I stared right back. Did I say something wrong? I almost slapped myself in front of her. Of course I said something wrong. Who would wake up next to a cafe door?

  The old woman shook her head. "Didn't see anyone, miss, except for the usual customers. You must be new to the neighborhood. Haven't come across your face before." Her concern grew when I nodded. She gestured to the only free chair on the corner. "I usually reserve that spot for Lynx, but since she's not here, you might as well take it. I'll bring you coffee in a second. On the house. You look like you need it."

  "Thank you." I went to the unoccupied spot, still dazed. Who this Lynx was, I didn't know. Where I was, I didn't know either. I did a quick scan of the coffee shop. It had yellow lights hanging above the tables, customary with cafe's. The furniture's were matching colors of brown, beige, with a pop of blue and orange here and there. On the walls were framed quotes, cliché ones relating to coffee like, 'I only need coffee in days ending with Y.' And there was a chalkboard near the counter announcing the drink for the day. Tonight it was peppermint mocha.

  All of this might seem normal at first glance, yet I couldn't shake off a strange feeling. There was something about this place that wasn't like any I've visited before. I couldn't put my finger on it.

  A group of girls from the next table startled me when they cried of frustration as their game of Jenga toppled to its bitter end. At the same time, the strong scent of caffeine wafted in my nose as the old lady from the counter put a cup in front of me. "They're a lively bunch," she commented.

  "Is it always this full?" I sipped on the coffee and did a double take on the liquid. Creamy and rich without being overpowering. It was actually good.

  "I'm afraid this is always the case, but you'll find your place if you stick around," the old lady explained. "Most of them are friends. We have a tight-knit community here."

  "I can imagine." My attention was drawn to two girls sharing a deep look whilst seated side by side. I continued drinking my coffee. Hmmm. Peachy. The next time I blinked, they had their lips locked together, tongue darting out of their mouths, arms wrapped possessively around each other. My jaw dropped.

  "Don't mind them," the old lady said. "Those two lovebirds are always fighting in the morning and making up at night. We're all used to it."

  A fast sweep on the place made me realize something. All women. No guys. Most of them were in groups, but the girls that weren't, were accompanied by other women who were focused on them, as if they were on a date. The corner of my lips pulled into a mischievous smile. Ideas were on my head, the bolts and nuts sealing into place. I jumped up and placed a hand on the barista's shoulder. "Please tell this Lynx person that I'm grateful she opened a spot for me tonight."

  The old woman knew that I was about to leave. I had that look on me. "Are you coming back?" she asked.

  "Definitely."

  The next morning, I dove on Lulu's bed to scream on her ear. "Wake up, I have the most wonderful story to tell you." She didn't stir. The girl could sleep through a tornado tearing through our house. There was only one way to rouse her, and that was by grabbing the voodoo doll from the desk and going to the open window to dangle the thing there by its foot. "I wonder what will happen if it falls from the second floor," I said, pronouncing each word clearly. "It won't break, but a kid who wants a new toy may get it."

  Lulu jerked up and stared daggers my way. The trick always worked. No matter how sleepy or tired she was, Lulu would know when her precious materials were stolen. "Put it back," she hissed. I tossed it to her without a fight. She was calmer when the doll was safely tucked under the pillow away from me. "What's so important that you have to do this? Don't you have a heart? I was up all night waiting for you."

  "That's why I love you," I said with a flourish of my hand. "Let bygones be bygones. Anyway, I've found the solution to my dilemma. You know how I need to have a sample group for my study? I've found them, Lu,
the nesting grounds of lesbica. They fell right on my lap. I still have to find an additional group to survey, but that could be done on the streets or online. This is for the actual observation phase. Do you get me?"

  She yawned, dropped on the bed, and pulled the cover over her face. "That's too much to take in the morning. I need to have my coffee."

  "That's the best thing about it," I said. "It's in a coffee shop. I'll take you this afternoon so you can see for yourself. In the meantime, take a bath, go and get decent. I'll be expecting you in an hour. We need a massage." She groaned her answer.

  Before we went to the spa, we spent the rest of the morning figuring out what clothes needed to be discarded and which could still be used. Lulu offered to pay for the ones she'd ruined, but I was having none of it. Clothes were just clothes. She'd have to be more careful next time was all. Despite some of her misgivings, I wouldn't choose any other Watson to be by my side. No one else would have her patience when it came to me. That I was sure of.

  "That's the last of it," I said to Lulu, poking my head in the laundry room. "Tomorrow, someone from charity will drop by to unload it from our hands. If you want to give anything else, like books, food, whatever, you can put it in the bag. Don't include money, okay? Bank transfers are more reliable." My phone vibrated. "Give me a sec, I think someone's calling." I fished my phone out. "Hello?"

  "Hey Scotland. How are things?" I moved away from the laundry room to hear Casper's voice better. The signal there was atrocious.

  "Absolutely delightful," I said. "When are you coming for a visit? It's perfect here. The houses are old-fashioned. The town is peaceful. The neighbors are friendly. I'm going to convince Lulu to enroll, at the cost of being impaled through voodoo, so you may want to transfer universities too."

  "You know I can't. My friends are here." When did that ever stop him from going back to us? We were more important than the people he met in that state, and he knew it. "How's Lulu?" he segued.