Discovering Delilah(5)

“And you never explored your sexuality?”

I shake my head.

“You never got drunk and kissed your best friend, or got into a little girl-on-girl action and blamed it on the alcohol?”

I laugh and shake my head again. “That would have been a good idea, if I drank a lot, but I was too afraid of my parents catching wind of it. And believe me, they would not have approved. I have no idea what they would have done, but the idea of them finding out and…I don’t know, refusing to pay my college tuition, or just making me feel worse than I already did...” I shrug again, unable to believe how I’m opening up to her. She’s so easy to talk to, and I feel oddly safe sitting in this dimly lit corner booth, spilling my heart to her.

“Oh, Delilah. No offense, but your parents did a job on you. At least you’re in the right place to figure it all out, and it sounds like your brother is supportive even if you don’t want to talk to him. Believe me, support is everything.” She finishes her drink and slaps money on the table. “Want to get out of here and walk for a while?”

“Sure. Thanks for the drinks.” We grab our stuff, and once we’re outside she loops her arm into mine, like a friend who’s known me for years.

“I promise you, Delilah. It won’t always feel like you’re living in a fishbowl. Life has a way of working itself out, and there will come a time when you know you’re on the right path, and when that happens, you’ll stop worrying about what everyone else thinks.”

A fishbowl. That’s exactly what I feel like, even though my parents are gone. They drove their beliefs into my head so strongly that I can’t get out from under the feeling of being scrutinized. Walking with Janessa is nothing like walking with Ashley, where I’m dissecting every step, every breath, searching for hints that might reveal if she’s into me or not. Being with Janessa is different. Then again, no one makes me feel like I do when I’m with Ashley.

When we come to my street, I stop walking. Janessa stops, too, our arms still linked. It feels nice to have another friend.

“This is my street. So I guess I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah, sure.” She steps in closer and touches my hip, causing goose bumps to race up my limbs. “Delilah, I know your heart is wrapped around Ashley. I can see that when you talk about her, and that’s such a good feeling. But I’ve also been where you are, with no experience.”

Her eyes are warm and her touch is caring, not pushy. Even though I’m crossing into new territory by opening up to her, and even though my stomach is more nervous than a fly on a lily pad, I don’t retreat. And I don’t feel like she’s coming onto me, although there is something in her eyes, her touch, the sensual sound of her voice, that makes my breathing become shallow.

“Every woman deserves to feel safe when she has her first experience and to feel confident when they’re with the woman they care about.” Her eyes never waver from mine. “If you ever want to…you know…explore that side without the pressure of doing it right or the embarrassment of feeling inexperienced…”

Ohgodohgodohgod.

“I’m here for you, as a nonjudgmental friend. My life now is all about Jackie. I don’t have room for anything more than sharing an intimate night. Or a few. Or whatever. I’m not looking for a girlfriend or a quick hookup. I’m offering to help, and trust me, there’s a big difference between hooking up with someone and overcoming your fears in a safe environment.” She smiles like she hasn’t just sucked all the air from the world, and it’s all I can do to remain erect.

I can hardly believe she’s offering herself up to me, but more than that, I can hardly believe I’m considering it.





Chapter Two


~Ashley~

I SHOULDER MY backpack and shove my hands deep into the front pocket of my hoodie as I walk across the dense sand behind my apartment complex toward the dunes to meet Delilah Armstrong. We’re both artists, although not professionally. I’ve been painting landscapes for about four years, and Delilah sketches. She’s begun teaching me how to sketch. She’s incredibly talented, and sketching seems to come as naturally to her as painting landscapes comes to me. I used to sleep in, but as Delilah comes into focus, perched high among the dune grass, with the rising sun illuminating her profile, I never want to sleep in again. I have no idea if she knows I’m a lesbian or not, and I can’t tell for sure if she’s straight or not, but even if she is, I’d get up at the crack of dawn to see her every day if I had the chance. We don’t get a lot of time together because she works a lot of hours at the Taproom, and I work a lot at Endless Summer Surf Shop. But even though we get to share only a few stolen hours here and there, during those times it seems like no one else in the world exists.