Lesbian

When I took off my bikini top in front of Carolina, her face changed. And then I knew I wasn’t leaving the beach that afternoon as just her friend.

I pressed her shirt open against the wall in the vestibule, kissed her neck, and knew I wasn’t going to ask her to stay, even though I was dying to.

I crossed that door convinced women weren’t my thing. I left two hours later knowing that was the biggest lie I’d ever told myself.

She brought down the stuffed animal from the highest shelf, chose the right video, and prepared for a session no one else would ever know about.

In the drinks line she asked to smell my perfume. When she leaned in against my neck, I understood that night’s concert would end somewhere other than my home.

Nora had always admired her older sister more than she should have. What she didn’t know was that the woman she secretly desired was, in fact, her own mother.

I never thought something as stupid as a comb could leave me trembling, alone in my room, biting my lip so I wouldn’t scream.

I was doing homework when the heat between my legs distracted me. What I did next with that glass of ice changed the way I saw myself.

I hadn’t slept well in six weeks, and her scent was still on the sheets. That morning, in the café on the avenue, I learned what it costs to lose someone who still smells like yours.

She climbed into the back seat beside my boss’s wife, thinking she was going to help me. She got out wondering when she could see her again.

I stripped off because of the heat, closed my eyes, and suddenly there she was, in black lace lingerie, straddling me in my empty bed.

“Put on the song I told you to and start undressing slowly. Don’t rush: tonight I’m in charge, even if we’re hundreds of kilometers apart.”