My GF and her computer
I hate computers. I see them as a necessary evil. They make my life easier.
They allow me to do my writing without wasting paper sheets unnecessarily. I
am a worrier by nature and I always worry whether what I write is something
worthwhile. Before I write a final sentence I am sure I will rewrite it
several times before I become satisfied with it. In a way, computers save
trees from being cut down and turned into paper. I should be thankful, and
perhaps I am. I know I am contradicting myself, but that does not come as a
big surprise to me.
My name is Lee Sunset. My last name is a constant source of aggravation,
but I grew accustomed to the teasing and snickering. My skin is thicker now
and I can take blows that would leave me breathless and wordless a couple of
years ago. People say I am cynical, dark, taciturn, unfriendly. And perhaps
I am. I am not really a goth person, but I do like to wear black, love
reading vampire stories, and my goth friends and I tend to like the same
bands. Very often I am depressed, but I hate pills or any chemicals. I am a
drug-free zone and, according to some, boring as hell.
I have an older brother, Nathan, and a younger sister, Callie. Nathan is as
cool as a brother can be. He’s already left home, but he still comes around
when he doesn’t feel like washing his own laundry and dumps it all in Mom’s
laundry basket. There are times when Nathan and I don’t speak to each other
Heated discussions between us start about nothing and everything, like his
being a goddamned opportunistic lazybones, whose right-wing ideas about how
to build a _better_ world make me puke.
In spite of our sibling rivalry I have to thank Nathan for who I am right
now.
When I was thirteen and wanted to surf the net, I had to use Nathan’s
computer. Although I disliked his cluttered, ugly machine, I had no choice:
I had to do some research for a paper. I remember I couldn’t find anything I
was looking for; despondent, I became careless — the mouse slipped and
involuntarily I clicked on a innocent-looking file called _Happy Times_.
“Whoa,” I said.
It turned out that _Happy Times_ was a porn video, and a _lesbian_ porn
video at that. Until then I had frowned upon all kinds of porn. I thought
porn was degrading — degrading to the women who sold their bodies like
that, and degrading to the men who watched them. In my book, porn was equal
to prostitution. When I was young I was very fundamentalist, and the world
was a black-and-white thing with no room for gray areas. At least not for
me.
I still don’t know why I pushed the play button of the video, but you could
say I was curious. I told myself I wanted to know what Nathan was into, a
way to acquire ammo to get back at him if need be. I got surprised by my own
reaction when the two girls kissed. It was a sensuous, intense kiss, mouth
to mouth. I could see the girls were turned on by each other, their nipples
were erect and they kept kissing one another for a long time. Needless to
say I started fidgeting on my bro’s chair, feeling the heat rising in my
crotch. I even brought my hands to my inner thighs, becoming aware of my own
arousal through the thick cotton of my jeans. I watched the video for a
couple of minutes longer, but shame and confusion got the better of me and I
stopped the whole thing right then. I went back to my room, dazed and angry
at myself. I had succumbed to porn. I had sold out. I was a phony. I thought
I was better than Nathan and after all I wasn’t.
Strangely enough I didn’t question my sexuality right away. I didn’t make
the connection between getting turned on by a lesbian porn video and my
likes and dislikes.
When I turned fifteen and was out at a party, this episode came back to me
in full force. I was friends with Jamie McIntire, the girl who pulled me
into the underworld of the goths. She was into punk music, black clothing,
silver bracelets, earrings with hanging tiny skulls and piercings. We were
both drunk and she was tripping with some shit, like X or crystal. She had
offered me some but I’d refused. Then, out of the blue, she began to kiss my
neck. She laughed and went on to kiss my left cheek and eye. I recoiled away
from her. I was not really disgusted by her kissing me. I was just
unprepared for the attention we were getting.
“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” I heard our male audience chanting, goading us on for
their pleasure. Two girls kissing… Yeah, what a riot… for them… but
not for me.
On the next day Jamie did as if nothing had happened at the party. When I
mentioned the kiss she refused to talk about it. She had a hangover, she
said. Liquor made her feel like shit, she said. I got mad at her and left
her alone, biting my lower lip. I told off a poor guy who was unlucky enough
to talk to me when I was trying to deal with rejection from a girl who was
supposed to be my best friend.
She could not know how much her kissing me had affected my own dreams and
recollections. I recalled the lesbian porn incident and only then I made the
connection. Girls turned me on. Their kissing turned me on. Their kissing
_me_ turned me on. So, who was I? What was I? A lesbo, _me_?
This self-doubt was torture and I walked the desert alone. Callie was
twelve and was not much of a help. Mom wouldn’t understand, Dad wouldn’t
either, and Nathan was a hopeless case, too. So, _what am I to do?_
I considered talking to a counselor but nixed the whole idea immediately. I
was shy and my self-consciousness would make me stutter as though I was an
inarticulate fool. And I hated that.
I kept quiet about being possibly gay for quite a while. I’d watch the
girls from afar, testing myself, checking my own reactions. It was
undeniable I preferred the company of girls; boys were a nebulous reality
and my apparent unfriendliness toward most of them kept me inside my bubble,
my own world full of female forms and odors and voices…
When I turned sixteen I finally had the guts to come out to my parents. Dad
was OK with it, whereas Mom began to worry about me and my chances of ever
becoming a happy person.
Soon after Nathan came over and learned the news. I remember his quietness,
his surprised look, his reddish, thick brows making a furrowed arc. We stood
alone in the kitchen, a place where we used to eat breakfast together when
we were kids.
“Are you sure, Lee?”
“Yeah, that’s not an overnight decision.”
“But how can you be so sure? You said you didn’t even have a girlfriend.”
“You don’t need to have a girlfriend to know you like girls, or do you?”
He shook his head with an absent look.
“What?” I asked. “Why are you being so… Is that odd?”
“Odd? What? Your being gay. No… I just… didn’t see it coming, that’s
all.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, me neither.”
I left the kitchen before I could explain his participation in the
definition of my sexuality. I didn’t want to spill the beans and acknowledge
I had changed my mind about porn. Porn was not evil per se, I reasoned now.
Porn could be your friend if you felt comfortable with it. My fundamentalism
had receded and I’d become aware of gray areas in my perfect black-and-white
world.
-o0o-
I still remember how Callie reacted to my coming-out: pure disgust. Like
her older sister at her age, she was a fundamentalist. It seems we are born
quite inflexible but age can make your mind become more pliable to foreign
concepts like a girl loving another girl.
Basically, Callie was afraid of losing her friends if my gayness became
known. Because I believed that my sexuality was a private thing, I did not
tell to anyone else. It was good enough to know that my parents accepted me
the way I was, despite Mom’s worries.
Seeing that my loving other females was not as threatening to her social
status as she thought, Callie grew curious and began to ask questions. What
was it like? Who did I fancy? Why girls and not boys? Million questions I
had barely an answer to. Instead of helping me, she got me confused, made me
stutter, made me hate myself.
It was by this time I sensed that Callie changed somehow. I didn’t know
exactly what, or why, or how, but I knew she was not the same innocent,
careless person I used to know. We’d never been very close. I respected her
privacy and she respected mine. It was simple as that.
About a year later I met Carina Stahl, a blue-eyed fair-headed girl, whose
long straight tresses betrayed her German blood. She was a female jock,
athletic, with a bubbly personality. What brought us close was our mutual
dislike for the usual high school chitchat and gossip exchange. She liked to
read poetry and I enjoyed lose myself in the library, hunting for books that
would change my life and would mean something to my hungry heart.
Carina and I would go sit on the high school lawn and read for hours if we
could. We didn’t talk much. It was just good to know that we had someone
else who appreciated the pleasure of reading and the silence that comes with
it. I never felt awkward around her.
I loved the way she smiled at me; the dimples at the corners of her mouth
made me want her. But I knew my chances with her were close to nil. She had
a boyfriend and apparently was as straight as they come.
One day Carina proposed a double date.
“But I don’t have a boyfriend,” I protested. I wanted to say I didn’t want
one, but I was still hesitant about coming out to her.
“You don’t need one. I’ll get one for you.” She was smiling, upturning her
cute nose as though she had become a mime and was telling a joke.
“No, thanks. I’ll pass.”
“Why not? He’s a goth and he looks like that guy from Him, you know. I bet
you’ll like him.”
“I’m not into goth guys. I’m not into Him either.”
“So, what kind of bands do you like?”
“Evanescence. Placebo. Brian Moloko’s voice is amazing and I like the way
he plays guitar. Melodic yet powerful.”
“Oh, I get it. You’re into androgynous types.”
“I didn’t say I was attracted to him. I just said I liked the way he sings
and plays guitar. I am not a groupie, you know.”
“So I guess you’re into girls then.”
There, she said it and I hadn’t seen it coming. I was surprised by her
clairvoyance. She knew more things about me than I did about her.
“Why’d you say that?” My voice was breaking, making a final attempt at
denial.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” she said, lowering her voice and avoiding my
stare.
“Yeah, but why’d you think I’m into girls?”
There was a moment of hesitation before she looked up and her green eyes
met mine. “Because the way you stare at me… at my breasts… at my legs.”
I didn’t know what to say in my defense. She was right. I did stare at her
breasts and legs, but I only did that when I thought she wasn’t looking.
“It’s OK, though,” she said, raising a smile. “I like the attention…
Thanks.”
-o0o-
Carina’s thankfulness was startling. I wondered what her words meant. Was
she gay too? Or was just curious? Or boy-crazy enough to call herself bi
just to juice up her own sex life and get the boys’ attention? If she were
the latter I didn’t know her at all. Carina was not a very forthcoming
person concerning her past and present romantic attachments. All I knew was
she had a boyfriend called Phil Mason, whom I had never seen.
Carina and I became inseparable. She would come often to my house and we’d
read and talk about what we wanted from life. Mom thought Carina was my
girlfriend, and in a way she was but not that way.
Mom was surprised when I explained she was just a friend. Father just
didn’t care whether Carina was more than a friend. Callie was the only one
to speak about it freely, teasing me with it: “Lee’s got a girlfriend!
Lee’s got a girlfriend! Lee’s got a girlfriend!”
I had an urge to go after my sister and spank her and put an end to her
stupid smirk, but I managed to stay calm, as though Carina’s dignity was
rubbing off on me.
-o0o-
I still remember the day when Callie came home after school and she was
pissed off with something. She was now fifteen and had changed her wear
style. Like me she was into alternative rock, and the more punk the better.
She wore one of her favorite T-shirts, an old The Offspring shirt she had
borrowed from me and had never returned.
“What’s up, squirt?”
“Don’t call me that. I hate you when you do that.”
“Do what?” I feigned innocence, but she was onto me.
“Oh, fuck off.”
I followed her to her room. I thought she was going to slam the door on me,
but she didn’t do such thing. In spite of our arguments we loved and trusted
each other. I knew when she needed me as a friend. It was an innate
knowledge we both had despite our independence and name-calling.
“Wanna talk?” I said, walking in her room, its walls covered with posters
of Green Day, The Offspring, and Kurt Cobain.
She didn’t say a thing while she emptied her backpack’s contents onto the
bed. She seemed to search for something. She looked desperate.
“What are you looking for?”
Still no answer.
“If you tell me what it is I can help you find it.”
“No, you can’t help me. Nobody can.”
Eventually she gave up and sat on her bed and burst out crying.
“Hey, what’s up, Callie?”
“Nothing is up,” she said, looking away, trying to hide her tears and her
bloodshot eyes. I realized then how beautiful she could be. It’s rare to
find a woman, a girl, who doesn’t lose some of her grace when she cries. My
sister was such a rarity.
“Hey, Callie…” I kneeled before her and took her face in my hands.
“Callie, what’s the matter? What happened?”
Callie didn’t speak. I watched her blue eyes moving crazily to the left and
then to the right and then back to the left. I saw her affliction in the way
she moved her perfect lips and the tongue that kept them from drying off. I
smoothed her skin, feeling the bone structure of her face, as if she was a
breakable piece of art. I touched her hair, locks of gold that framed her
unhappy eyes. During a split second, she metamorphosed into Carina, then she
became my sister again.
“Callie, tell me. I’m your sis. You know you can trust me.”
“You’re gonna laugh at me. You’re gonna say I told you so.”
“I told you so.”
There was a moment she didn’t know whether to choose anger or laughter. I
was relieved when she chuckled and held my hands.
“You’re not going to believe this, but…”
“But what?”
“I… I… am like you.”
“What do you mean, you are like me?”
“I… Lee… I’m into girls too.”
I must have remained there with a stupid expression on my face before I
could speak. “Are you saying you’re gay? Is this all about–”
“Yeah, and worse,” she cut in.
“Worse?”
“Yeah, worse.”
“What do you mean, worse?”
“I told a girl about you… to see how she’d react… because…”
“You have a crush on her,” I completed, still holding her hands, still on
my knees before her.
“Well, yeah…” Callie blushed.
“And then?”
“She totally freaked out and started being really mean… to you… Then
I–”
“You came out to her.”
“Yes, that’s what I did. How did you know? I was mad at her, so, so mad at
her… when she called you…”
“Oh, Callie, baby.”
I held her hands tighter and seeing the pain in her eyes I wanted to press
her close to me, but instead she gave me an intense hug. I could sense she
was shaking, her pulse altered. When I broke our embrace and looked at her,
I asked, “What were you looking for?”
“A letter.”
“What letter?”
“I wrote her a letter.”
“You did? And where is it?”
“I don’t know,” she said, making an half attempt at a feeble shrug. “I
can’t find it. I think I lost it somewhere. Perhaps I let it fall when I got
mad at her. Oh, Lee… They’re going to laugh at me if they ever find it.
I’m gonna die if they do.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll protect you.”
“You can’t. Although you’re a senior and they respect you, they’ll know
you’re gay too, because of me… and my stupid big mouth.” With this Callie
let herself fall on the bed, immersing herself in a crying fit.
I laid myself on the bed, next to her. I held her to me, hushing her, her
tears making my neck damp and clammy. She was inconsolable, dreading the
future and what school gossip would do to her… to us.
-o0o-
The next day I could feel the staring and the smirking directed at me. Some
boys I barely knew said hi, whereas most of the girls would either snicker
or move away from me as if I had a contagious disease. Only Carina Stahl and
her gang of friends were vaguely human, and treated me as if I was someone
who needed to be rescued. I was thankful for their support, but they were
trying to help by crowding me. And I could be erratic and unpredictable if
too many people spoke to me or demanded my attention. I wanted to scream so
that everybody would leave me alone, but I respected Carina too much to let
my dark, bitchy side win.
All in all I was pretty miserable when I got home. Callie had called sick
and was in her room. I knocked but she didn’t answer. It figures, I thought
I sighed and went to my room. I opened a book and kept reading it until Mom
called us down for dinner.
-o0o-
Two months went by and Callie and I had sustained some fierce attacks by
some homophobic jerks. As Callie suspected someone had found her letter and
they’d read it out loud in front of my sister, completing her humiliation.
Somehow the letter was confiscated by a teacher and our parents got called
in by the principal. Mrs. Rhymes was concerned for my sister. She urged my
parents and my sister to seek counseling. I just couldn’t believe the
senselessness of the whole thing. It seemed to me that everybody had gone
mad in my school. For goodness’ sake, it was _just_ a letter! They couldn’t
be more horrified if Callie had raped that girl.
-o0o-
On the eve of going to college for my freshman year, Callie surprised me
with a stolen red wine bottle and two glasses.
“Hey, what’s this?”
“A present from me to you,” she said, sitting down on the sand of the beach
we used to go when we wanted to be alone and think about life.
“It’s good it’s dark. I don’t want to be arrested. I want to go to college,
squirt. So don’t you mess up my life with this.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep the bottle in my backpack. And if we get caught we
can always run away.”
I laughed. “Yeah, with the cops on our tail. That’d be something to see.”
“You bet.”
We drank the wine, watching the calm sea and the almost autumnal waning
moon. It was a romantic evening although in the wrong company. I wish I were
with Carina instead of Callie. Then I looked up at my sister with some
remorse. She was doing her best and I was being an ungrateful bitch.
-o0o–
My first year in college was a welcome change. I met very interesting
people, got drunk, partied a lot, smoked my first joint, and become more
outgoing and less embarrassed about my own self. I collected a few wild
adventures with girls my age, and most of them became precious memories to
me. Still, I knew something was lacking. Most of all I was homesick. I
missed my parents, our cat – who, predictably, was called Garfield -, and
our porch with its old rocking chair and battered light green sofa.
Callie and I would call each other quite often and she would come to visit
me whenever she could. At first I was surprised that she was willing to
travel all those miles just to see me. I was flattered by it. We’d been
growing amazingly close since her coming-out. At last we had found some
common ground we could truly share. So, in fact, I did miss her too, but
somehow something told me I’d be better off not dwelling too much about how
I felt when she left and returned home.
The turning point of my relationship with Callie was on Thanksgiving Day,
and my life made a complete circle. Once again I had to do some research for
a paper and I asked Callie if I could use her computer, which was in fact
Nathan’s old, ugly machine. She gave me its password and I logged in.
I surfed the net for about twenty minutes when I decided I wanted to snap
back to a previous page. I wrote the new address which started with “si” and
because some software likes to be smarter than their users the browser
completed the address as something like _sistersinlove.org._
I don’t know really why but that address intrigued me. I pressed the return
key and my eyes must have come out of their sockets.
In shock I navigated through the site. _Sisters in Love_, I read with utter
disbelief. _Sexual love between sisters_, I read on. Like in a daze, I
continued reading, mesmerized by the testimonials of women, girls, telling
about their personal lives.
My amazement almost kept me from wondering why Callie would visit such a
site. Even though I tried to stay away as long as possible from computers, I
knew that if a browser completed an address automatically when someone typed
in the first letters that meant someone else had visited the site before.
But could it be Callie? Perhaps it was someone else, Nathan for one…
I shook my head. That was unlikely, because our older brother hadn’t used
that computer since he bought himself a faster, “meaner” machine, as he used
to brag. I was about to click on another page when I got a scare. I screamed
and almost toppled from the chair.
“Callie!”
“What are you doing? What–” She ceased talking. Her face became pale as
her eyes fell on the monitor screen and she realized the site I was surfing
She faced me, her lips moved as if she wanted to speak, but no sound came
out of her mouth. She moved her hands up and down as though she wanted to
conjure up words her throat denied her. Frustrated, she made a half turn and
ran out of her own room.
-o0o-
I remained in my sister’s room for a long time and thought hard about what
had just happened. I was in an almost catatonic stupor when I sat down on
Callie’s bed and doubled over as if I was assaulted by a severe tummy ache.
Callie, my own sweet sister Callie… Was she…? I couldn’t even formulate
the thought. It was too horrible, too unthinkable. It could not be her, I
thought, even though I knew it must be her. Her reaction had proved it
beyond any doubt.
If only she had pretended she knew nothing about the site, I could have
continued pretending she was not the one who had visited it.
-o0o-
I was glad I was in college again, taking my notes in classes of eager and
not-so-eager minds. I was glad I had tons of textbooks I had to skim
through. For the first time in my life I wasn’t homesick. I was actually
glad I was away from home.
From time to time I would think about Callie, especially when the phone
rang. Secretly, even to myself and my conscience — if I have one –, I
wished to hear her voice. But it wasn’t Callie. Never was. It was Joanne,
Lissa, Raymond, Jeff or Ben.
Men were drifting in insidiously. I didn’t notice them until it was too
late. They just entered my life, unasked and not particularly welcome. They
were friends, good friends, though. They accepted me the way I was when I
came out to them. None of them were too eager, or not as crass as some other
representatives of the male species.
Most of all they didn’t ask, “Can I watch?”
-o0o-
Joanne Seaman and I were lovers. She used to joke she was a lug (=lesbian
until graduation) and I believed her.
Joanne was a long-limbed beauty with hazel eyes and long reddish brown
hair. She was a dreamer, who loved to sing old-fashioned Leonard Cohen’s
songs her daddy used to play when she was just another pigtailed kid. Our
mutual attraction seemed to build up with time.
She brought me to orgasm a few times with her experienced fingers, while
she licked my sensitive nipples. I asked her to fuck me harder with her
fingers and she did it with a vengeance. She carried me to the brink of a
fourth intense orgasm, but she didn’t let me go over the edge. She kept me
kissing me while I fumbled for her nipples of her well-formed, attractive,
tanned breasts.
“You like boobies, don’t you?” she asked, taunting me.
“Yes, I have a complete, undeniable fixation with boobies.”
Joanne gave a low, satisfied laugh. She shut her eyes when my fingers
touched her labia and her protruding clit.
“Fuck me,” she said.
I smiled at her pleading, attractive face. “Okay, Miss Seaman. I will fuck
you as you wish.”
We both burst out laughing with my remark, which was good: I felt some
connection with someone I admired; it ground me to earth; and it made me
forget.
-o0o-
The holidays came and I panicked. I had to buy so many presents and I had
little time for it. I was out of ideas. I really didn’t feel like buying any
presents; I wanted to make them myself. I wanted them to have some meaning.
I knew Nathan would look at me like I was the dorkiest person on Earth if I
came to him with such a gift, though. Mom would go, “Honey, that’s so nice
of you,” while Dad would kiss me on the forehead and wouldn’t say much.
And what about Callie? What would she do? Would she want to be in the same
room with me? Someone who knew about her darkest, deepest secret?
Only then, in front of that monumental window on 5th Avenue, New York, was
I able to confront it. My sister… my sister Callie… wanted us… to be
lovers.
I became breathless for a moment, sickened by that thought, angry at her,
and angry at myself.
In the end I decided to be conservative and bought books for everybody. I
tried to choose books I know they would enjoy. For Callie I chose _Dare True
or Promise_ by Paula Boock. I had enjoyed reading it. I loved the characters
and I was sad when I reached the end of the book. I knew Callie would love
it as much as I did.
-o0o-
Back home I was greeted by my aunts and by Dad. Mom was busy in the
kitchen, so I went over to give her a kiss. She asked me about unimportant
things, about my dating Joanne, and why I hadn’t brought her along. “She has
a family too, Mom,” I told her, realizing the meaning of what I had just
said. I shook my head before I could sink back into depression. _Playing
with lugs is dangerous to your health, Lee_, I heard a voice say. I wondered
if it was my conscience again.
When I was in my room I heard footsteps in the hall. I turned and saw a
thinner, slender, taller Callie. Her hair was longer than I could remember
and I noticed she wore a kind of engagement ring.
“Hi, Lee.” She stayed in the hall by my bedroom door.
“Hi.”
“How are you?” she asked, finally having the guts to walk in and hang
around me, keeping a safe distance between us.
“Are you engaged?”
“What do you mean, eng–”
“The ring,” I said.
“Oh, yeah. That’s Brad’s.”
“Brad Pitt’s?… I thought you were gay.”
She laughed and shook her head. “No, not Brad Pitt’s. I wish.”
“You wish? I thought you were gay. I thought you were into girls.”
“Well, perhaps I am bi, I don’t know. I don’t know anything.” She jerked up
her shoulders and let them fall, her arms trying to find a way out of her
nervous body.
“And why the ring? You’re only fifteen. Are you thinking about getting
married?”
“_Not getting married._ It was Brad’s way to tell me he wanted us to go
steady.”
“And since when are you with him?” I asked, unpacking my clothes, without
really making any eye contact with her.
“Since… Lee, why are you doing this to me?”
I stopped whatever I was folding and faced her. “Do what?”
She looked me deep in the eye and in an intense, trembling voice, she said,
“You know. I don’t have to tell you.”
No, you don’t, I thought, but I didn’t say a thing. I resumed the
unpacking, unfolding my crinkled t-shirts on my bed. I took the hangers and
with relentless feminine precision I hung all my jeans and the only pair of
leather pants I owned.
-o0o-
It was Christmas Day and I was bored. I’d called Carina Stahl but she was
away with a bunch of friends. They had gone skiing in Vermont. Her father
had this friend who owned a winter resort up there, who would turn into a
golf resort during the Spring and Summer months. I wish I was there with
them, but I knew I couldn’t. After some hesitation I knocked on Callie’s
door and before she could say anything I swung it open.
Callie lay on her bed reading the book I’d given her. She looked up mildly
surprised as though my invading her room like that was a normal thing.
“Like it?”
“Yeah, seems nice.”
“May I come in?”
“You’re already in.”
I closed the door behind me and plumped down on a chair, ignoring her
accusation. We were sisters, and there was no way around it.
“Can I use your computer?” I asked.
“I thought you hated computers.”
“I do. But I need them. It’s a kind of love and hate relationship.”
Once again I was able to raise a smile on her serious face. I hadn’t lost
my touch – I was still able to lift up her spirits. It made me feel good,
as though I was a good person after all.
“Is the password still the same?”
“No, I changed it.”
When the startup ended she jumped out of bed and quickly typed in the lock
to her secrets. For a short moment I felt embarrassed by her being so close
to me. I was able to feel her body heat and see the outline of her bra
straps that run tightly up and across her back. The scent she was wearing
was also more sophisticated. My teenaged sister was growing up and without
really acknowledging it I felt the heat in my crotch becoming stronger.
I reasoned with myself it was just lack of sex. I missed Joanne. I missed
her touching me, making me feel a woman, a woman with needs.
I signed into my online mailboxes and started reading all the messages. I
responded a few of them, then I got tired and signed out. There was no
message from Joanne. I was disappointed because she didn’t think of me
during Christmas. Not even a phone call. She promised she would call me, but
so far no word from her. _That’s what you get when you mess with lugs. Lugs
are bad to your health, Lee._ Again that voice, again my would-be
conscience. I eventually decided I was not crazy or a schizo or a psycho. I
just had a very fertile imagination.
I turned to my sister, but she was still reading the book, as immersed in
it as I had been. If I wanted proof we were genetically related, there it
was.
As I didn’t want to disturb her I went on surfing. Gradually the memories
about the sisters site came over me and although I resisted for a while –
reading random, uninteresting stuff — I gave in. I typed again those two
first characters on the address field and the first URL the browser chose
was the sisters’ site.
Knowing that my sister was just a few feet away made everything quite
surreal, almost dreamlike. I clicked on the links, read a testimonial and a
started reading a story. I was impatient, though. I stopped and thought
about what I was doing. Why was I so curious? Was I considering… No, of
course not. I just wanted to know why Callie would visit such a site.
_Incest_, that very word, had always given me the creeps.
When I was about to desist I found the forum link. I clicked on it and
again my amazement grew. _They even have a discussion board_, I thought. I
skimmed through the topics and then something hit me. I found a user called
Callie. My heart began to hammer in my chest and the blood rushed in my
veins and into my head.
My train of thought screeched into a halt. Time froze.
I read what Callie had to say. She hadn’t even changed our first names. She
had confessed to a bunch of a strangers that she was in love with me and she
had always been.
-o0o-
“Lee, you don’t smoke,” my mother protested when I grabbed her pack and
stole one cigarette.
“No, I don’t,” I said, searching for a lighter.
“So why are you smoking?”
“Mom, I need this.”
My mother called the national guard and the cops, meaning my father and
Uncle John.
“Make her stop,” she demanded.
“She’s eighteen, Lorrie,” Uncle John came in my rescue. “She can do
whatever she wants.”
I smiled at him and he smiled back at me. I noticed John’s eyes falling on
my body, my tight t-shirt and my jeans. Suddenly I surrendered my stolen
cigarette to Mom and I left the living room, my head low, my long hair
keeping me safe somehow.
-o0o-
I felt nauseous as I paced my room. _Incest_ was such a ugly word. Even my
uncle wanted me. I wondered why, I wondered whether I was the only sane
person around the house. I felt like crying but I didn’t. Everybody told me
I was this strong, uncaring person, incapable of real emotions. But they
knew nothing about me. Nothing!
-o0o-
I let Callie hug me when we said our goodbyes. The holidays were almost
over and I was going to spend New Year’s Day at Joanne’s. She had called me
the day before to say she missed me.
“I loved the book,” Callie said. “I really did.”
“I’m glad you did.”
I hopped into Dad’s car and while he drove me off to the airport I saw
Callie wave at me. And her waving hand… was naked. There was no engagement
ring on any of her fingers. The engagement ring was gone.
-o0o-
Going to Joanne’s turned out to be a big mistake. When I arrived at her
parents’ place in upstate New York, Joanne was in the middle of a crisis.
Her parents had found out about our relationship. She said she was sorry but
I had to go. Her uptight, upstate parents didn’t want me there.
“Why don’t you come with me?”
“They’d never forgive me.”
“It’s your life, not theirs.”
“I know, but…”
“OK, suit yourself.” I made a half turn and realized I had to call a cab.
The other taxi was gone and I was in the middle of nowhere. It was cold, it
was snowing, and I was pissed beyond belief. “Can I…” I began, but she was
back inside and the door had gone shut. I could go and knock and ask whether
they’d let me at least call a cab. My dignity was the only thing I had left
I walked away with my backpack and I had a go at hitchhiking.
An eager, suspicious-looking guy pulled over and I moved away from his car,
making clear I wasn’t interested in getting a lift from him. When he left
his Honda SUV and walked toward me, I was saved by an approaching patrol
car. The cop got out of his vehicle and asked, “Are you OK, miss?”
“Actually I’m not,” I said, walking toward the cop and away from the creep
“I’m lost, and…”
“I’ll give you a ride, miss. It’s dangerous to hitchhike, you know… A
pretty girl like you, alone, is a too damn tempting popsicle around here.”
He opened the trunk and helped me with my heavy backpack. When I looked up
the creep was gone. I got mad at the cop. He could have at least asked some
questions to my would-be attacker, but then I thought I was being
unreasonable. The cop didn’t have any evidence the guy wanted to hurt me.
After all, I was a too damn tempting popsicle, wasn’t I? And who would care
about a popsicle? Joanne didn’t. Then why would he?
-o0o-
I spent New Year’s Day in New York. It was an unusually quiet day. The
streets were snowy white and the cold wasn’t as intense as at Joanne’s. I
called my parents to say I wasn’t at Joanne’s in case they called her to ask
about me. Mom wanted me to go home, but I ignored that remark. I hung up
when she began to insist on it. I sighed from relief when I regained my
freedom. I looked around me and made an effort to cheer myself up. I knew
Joanne was not going to stay with me forever, but still the wound was there
inside me.
I thought about Callie and the book I gave her as I walked down 5th Avenue
I considered going downtown and see some art galleries or watching the
ferries coming and going. Eventually I came across a cybercafé and went in.
The place looked crowded, and I thought that luckily I had left my backpack
in a locker at the train station. Some patrons stared at me, probably not
used to “chicks” invading their space. I heard a whistle and a hoot when I
removed my winter cap and my tresses fell over my back and upper chest. I
asked for a computer and the barman assigned me one at a far-away corner.
“You’ll be safer there,” he said, winking at me.
“Thanks,” I said, smiling at him. “I appreciate it.”
“Anytime. Do you want anything to drink?”
I shook my head and crossed the room, avoiding the staring and not caring
about the remarks horny boys always make when they see a girl their age
trespassing.
I sat down, launched the web browser and signed into my Hotmail account. I
checked for any new email messages, but I hadn’t none, save for the usual
spam. I was about to stand up and leave the place when, out of nowhere, I
felt a familiar urge and fascination sweep over me. I recalled the sisters
site, sistersinlove.org. I fought that crazy idea, but the more I struggled
with it the weaker I became. I told myself I was in a public place, and if I
ever got caught surfing on such a site I would die from shame.
But I am weak, and I have this unhealthy fascination for the forbidden.
Against my better judgment I typed in the site’s address and the pencil
drawing with two girls, sisters, holding hands appeared. My pulse beat
faster than the site’s beating heart located under the pencil drawing.
Checking for any possible witnesses over the monitor I clicked on the enter
link and went directly to the forum page. I looked for any new posts. There
weren’t many and none was from Callie. Disappointed, I read a testimonial
and then a second. Again I was filled with amazement, confusion, even anger
I exited from the web browser, paid and left the cybercafé.
-o0o-
On a Friday night I was in my dorm, reading, as always. Raymond and Jeff
had invited me to go with them to a party but I had declined. I felt tired,
and most of all I knew Joanne was going to be there. Since that incident at
her parents’ we hadn’t talked. We avoided each other as if we had the
plague. The irony of it all was that Joanne wasn’t even a lug. Joanne Seaman
had not remained a lesbian until graduation. Her parents made sure of it.
My phone rang and — surprise, surprise — it was Callie.
“Hi, Sis,” I said, sounding more cheerful than I cared for.
“Hi, Lee. How are you?”
“I’m OK. Why are you calling? Is Mom and Dad all right?”
“Yeah, they’re fine. Nathan, too. He’s got a new girlfriend. You should see
her. She’s a hottie and… quite nice.”
“You met her?”
“Yes, Nathan and his girlfriend came by on New Year’s Day.”
“Oh, shit. I should’ve stayed with you.”
“Yes, I heard that shit about Joanne. I’m sorry.”
“Well, it only shows we weren’t made for each other. And how about you and
Brad? Has he given you another ring?”
“No, why would he? Anyway, we broke up.”
“When? I mean… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I was just fooling myself. I’m gay like I told you. It was going
nowhere.”
“But why did you go out with him in the first place?” I had tried not to
sound outraged but I must have failed. I wanted to kick myself for it.
“I don’t know. I kind of… reacted…”
Although I knew what she meant I wanted to hear her say it. “Reacted to
what?”
A long moment of silence followed. “You know, Lee. I don’t have to tell
you. And I know you’ve been to the site when I wasn’t looking.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, playing the dumb blonde.
“What site?”
“Lee, don’t. I know you’ve been there. If you knew more about computers you
would know why I know it.”
“So tell me why you know what you think you know.”
“Geez, you sound like a politician. I know it because the browsers record
every site you surf into. It’s called “history”. You need to delete the
browser’s history and cache to be safe. If you don’t know how to do it, ask
someone who does.”
I had only a vague idea of what she was talking about. I thought about my
adventure at the cybercafé. I realized the nice guy behind the bar was
probably smiling now. He knew about a girl who had entered his place, alone,
facing a bunch of losers, because she wanted to visit a site devoted to
incestuous sisters. Wow. I’d be the talk of the town. In spite of my inner
sarcasm, I felt queasy. Going back to that cybercafé was now out of the
question.
“You’re fifteen. How do you know all these things?”
“Because I’m smarter.” I heard her giggle.
“Yeah, right. So, if you’re so smart, why don’t you come visit me next
weekend? Probably I need you to rub off some of your amazing brains on me. I
need to get smarter sooner rather than later, in time for this semester’s
finals.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure I am sure.”
“OK, how about _this_ weekend?”
“This weekend? OK, if that’s what you want — to waste away your time with
your older sister, who’s a dumb blonde, according to you.”
“Yeah, I’m crazy about dumb blondes. They’re more of a challenge. They need
to be taught a lesson so they get as intelligent as me.”
-o0o-
Saturday morning Raymond and I went to pick her up at the airport. I had
warned him that Callie was gay. I didn’t know why I said it to him, but I
guess my jealous side won over and I wanted to make sure he understood his
chances of bedding her were pretty slim. And besides, she was only fifteen
and was my baby sister. So I basically told him to back off.
Ray drove us back to the dorms and I thanked him with a kiss. When he
roared off my smartass of a sister looked at me with a smirk.
“What?” I said, helping her with one of her travel bags.
“He’s cute. Is he your boyfriend or something?”
“I thought you were gay. And I thought I was gay. Somehow I don’t see guys
fitting into this picture.”
“Well, I told you. I am actually bi. More gay than bi, but still bi.”
“I don’t understand you. You say one thing one day, and you say the
opposite the next day. I just don’t get it.”
“That’s hardly a surprise. After all, I am not the dumb blonde here.”
“Ha, ha,” I faked. Her joke had fallen flat. I didn’t feel like laughing;
my humor had soured. I tried to snap out of it and be nice to her, but I
just couldn’t.
-o0o-
In the afternoon we went to the local mall and then to the movies. In the
dark I felt her arm against mine. I tried not to dwell too much on that
physical contact. _Get a grip on yourself, she’s your sister_, I heard my
conscience say. Yes, but that’s not me who’s trying to seduce her, I
countered. It’s she who’s trying to seduce me. _No matter_, the voice said,
_you’re the older one. She’s only fifteen, and she’s your baby sister. You
should know better than that._
I moved away my arm from hers and let it fall on my lap. Soon enough,
during a scary part, she took hold of my hand, her fingers entwining mine.
_Lee, you’re letting her._ Yes, I am, I said to my inner voice.
“What did you say?”
I looked at my sister. “Did I say anything?”
“Yes, you did. You said, ‘Yes, I am.’”
“Sorry, I was talking to myself.”
“You do that?”
“Yes.”
“Funny.” I didn’t reply even though I wanted to know what she found so
funny about that. I forced myself to watch the movie and we remained silent
for a while. When I thought she was not going to give me any explanation,
she continued. “I do the same.”
-o0o-
I lay awake in my bed, listening to Callie’s easy breathing right next to
me, and what I read on the site came back to haunt me. I felt horny and
wanted to masturbate. I closed my eyes and resisted my growing desire. I
told myself I was a sane woman despite my going to a cybercafé to read
stories about sisters who are in love with their sisters. _What was I
thinking?_
Callie rolled over toward me, face down on a pillow she’d borrowed from my
absent roommate. I told her she could sleep in Helen’s bed, but Callie
wanted to sleep with me. I had frowned and started protesting, but Callie
reasoned, “Come on, we used to do that when we were kids. Why would it be
different now? I am not gonna rape you, OK?”
Rape me? Callie wouldn’t rape me. I laughed and let her stay in my bed. I
guess I wanted to be close to someone. I was so tired of being alone.
-o0o-
Sunday was a beautiful day. Callie and I went out for breakfast. The place
was not far away from campus. It was a kind of an idyllic place, surrounded
by trees and a gurgling creek. It had a playground with a sandbox in the
middle of it. We went inside and sat down on a booth near a wide-paned
window. I was about to order some eggs and bacon, when my sis asked the
waitress for milk and cereals. She gave Callie a weird look, but she did
what she was told.
Even though it was January and was cold, Callie and I made a small trip
through the woods covered with snow.
“I think I could live here forever.”
I stared at her back as she walked in front of me. I wanted to see her face
and see how serious she was.
“I think I could live here forever with the right person,” she insisted.
If that was a bait I didn’t take it. I kept my mouth shut. She turned to
face me.
“Lee, wouldn’t you?”
“You’re just fifteen. You don’t know what you want.”
“You’re eighteen. Do you know what _you_ want?”
“Maybe.”
We stared at each other, and our smiles grew. She giggled and I widened my
smile into a grin. She turned her back on me and walked on. As we hiked
through broken, leafless branches and yielding snow-covered ground I thought
about the subtle changes in my relationship with Callie. Some remarks that
would surely have started a fight between us a couple of years ago were now
a reason to smile. As they say, _we came a long way, baby._
-o0o–
Instead of going with the guys to the parties awaiting us, I went home
during Spring Break. I think I was fed up with the drinking and the
pill-taking and the cigarette smoke. And most of all, I missed my hometown,
my friends, my folks and Callie. Perhaps that was the uncoolest thing for a
college freshman to feel but I admitted it to Jeff.
“I bet it’s a girl,” he’d said.
I gave him a sort of mysterious, smug smile and said, “Maybe.”
-o0o-
Callie and I went to the beach again. This time there was no wine, no
nothing, just the two of us. Callie wanted us to talk. I asked her what
about, but she kept stalling for time until she mentioned the beach.
You could say I knew what was coming, but I had thought about that
possibility while she was away from me — at my parents’. And the more I
thought about it the more it felt right. I knew we were sisters, I knew
nobody would understand, but my yearning for her had grown to unstoppable
proportions. I had had a few dreams about her kissing me and making love to
me. I had felt guilty about it. My conscience kept mauling my freer side.
But I was tired… Tired of struggling with myself, with my feelings, with
my sexual needs.
I’d let it go once in my bed, in my dorm room; I came with a long moan, my
hands wet with my secretions. I worried about waking up Helen, but my
roommate went on snoring.
“What do you want to talk about?” I asked as we strolled on the deserted
beach. It was as dark as the last time we’d been down there. Perhaps we
should’ve been scared, but being wise was not exactly in our plans right
then.
“Shh, you’re ruining the mood.”
So, my sister wanted to summon up the right mood, as though she was a
shaman, a witch of some kind. I kept ambling beside her. I was in good
spirits. I felt content, some exhilaration even, although I didn’t
understand exactly why.
Callie looked like Amy Lee, the Evanescence band singer and front woman.
She wore a loose black t-shirt, a long, flowing black skirt adorned with
multiple layers of black lace. A pair of high-heeled ankle boots completed
her wardrobe. Only Callie’s honey blonde long tresses didn’t match, as Amy’s
scalp was covered with pitch-black strands of hair. While she was gone
Callie had turned into a full-fledged goth girl, which included the use of
black-tinted eye-shadow and nail polish, spiked bracelets and a leather
choker. At first I thought she was just trying to ape me; now I had to admit
Callie had surpassed me. In a way I was proud of her, as she had the
strength to reinvent herself, while I remained undecided, choosing
discretion and a mixed style for my clothing: not really a goth, but not
really not a goth, if you know what I mean.
After a quarter of an hour I got tired of walking on the beach and sat down
on the sand, facing the darkened sea, listening to the incoming waves
crashing down and sliding in and out. Callie did the same, although I could
feel her mounting nervousness.
“Callie.”
“Yes?”
“Just say it.”
“Say what?”
“It’s you who wanted us to talk.”
“I know.”
“So say it.”
There was a pause. Her face became more distinct despite the darkness.
“It’s not easy to say it… to say it out loud.”
“Just say it then.”
“I wanted…”
“Yes?” I said because she didn’t go on.
“I wanted to know… why… you went to the site.”
I smiled a little. I suddenly felt very tired. I realized I would’ve left
at that moment if she weren’t my sister.
“I don’t know, Callie. I really don’t. I am a morbid person. I like to hurt
myself. I am a masochist.”
“Lies. I know you better than that.”
“You’re fifteen. You’re not supposed to know these things. You were not
supposed to be on that site. Did you read the warning? _Adult content._ Not
meant for teenagers.”
“The site didn’t make me who I am. I went to the site to find answers.”
“And did you?”
“Well, not really. But it helped to know I am not alone.”
So, _where does that leave us?_ I thought. I wanted something to happen. I
dreaded to know what, though.
“Lee?” she called without looking at me; she kept staring at the waves.
“Yes?”
“Remember when we were little? You used to sing this song about a fairy who
fell in love with the Moon? I didn’t know the significance of that. I just
thought it was the best song ever.”
“You did? Why didn’t you say it?”
“I did. You just didn’t listen to me.”
Another moment of silence passed and we stayed there watching the waves and
facing the cold sea breeze.
“Lee?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
This time she turned to me and I saw she was crying.
“I know.” I didn’t know what else I could say.
“Lee? _I… love you._”
“I know. I know, Callie. But that doesn’t help us at all.”
For a while she stood perfectly still. Her quietness didn’t last. Her
pent-up emotions burst out and she crumbled into a heaving sobbing fit.
“Callie.” I slid close to her, my hands gliding across her back, assuaging
her pain. “Callie, listen to me. Callie!”
I held her tight, pulling her onto my lap. I let her shed all the tears,
the frustrations she must have endured. I was surprised by her intensity. It
was overwhelming.
-o0o-
The next day I woke up with Callie beside me. I felt her naked body against
mine, her thigh keeping mine apart, making the right pressure against my
clitoris. We had made love the night before. Sex with Callie was explosive;
it had depth, it had a deeper meaning. It fulfilled me in several ways. I
trusted her, most of all.
She kissed me with manic fervor, her lips trembling, whispering words I
didn’t want to comprehend. I came three times with her fingers inside me.
She was relentless, in the way women are relentless when they want
something. And she wanted me — badly.
Sometimes I wish this were just a dream. Sometimes I am happy it isn’t.
These days I don’t hate computers so much. They allow me to connect with
like-minded people. They allow me to free a couple of minds, perhaps change
the mentalities of a few. Callie says this is just wishful thinking; I say
this is just computer stuff.
THE END
