"Will Love Find a Way?" Ancelin Yi sighed. Ivory tried too hard. She wanted little to do with the persistent woman; Ivory was obsessed over her. Shouting her love out for hundreds to hear was apparently just the beginning: she had stuffed love poems in Ancelin's lockers, had sent flowers of all kinds to her home and classes, had sent her poor friend Farrah time after time to speak for her, and had sent her presents. She had even hung a 160-foot banner across the school's entire roof, openly declaring her abstinence from sexual conduct (the rumor she believed floored Ancelin the most), just to say how serious she really was. The sign had sent some people into awe, but it scared many others. Marbel tore it down before lunch and had put Ivory to hard labor to repay the debt (she didn't believe in suspension). Now, in the second September week, mere days after her silent observation of the eleventh, Ancelin felt that at last, Ivory had to have run out of ideas or else gave up. She was wrong, of course: as soon as she stepped out of school grounds and onto the sidewalk, she saw the most outrageous stunt yet. The words ANCELIN IVORY had been carved on the side of a tree, with a big heart enveloping it. Despite feeling sour about her so-called fan, Ancelin couldn't help but snicker. Then she blanched: the next tree over had the word FOREVER carved on it; and the next one had AND EVER, and the one after that had the same, and so on and so forth. Standing at a faraway tree was Ivory, busy cutting in the words to her latest declaration. Six trees so far had those words! Ancelin's face flew into ghastly surprise as Ivory turned around and waved happily. She scampered away once the police sirens could be heard, and in spite of the trouble she knew Ivory would get into, Ancelin couldn't help but laugh. ......... Furious Hail had never been in a good mood or even a near-good mood, but she wasn't in a bad one either as she greeted Ivory. Tran was unreceptive towards her attentiveness. Having become more and more distant to her one-time bedfellow, Ivory all but ignored the wild, wretched woman in her quest to regain Ancelin's trust and love. Having Hail fawn over her so was tiresome, and deep down inside, Ivory knew it was wrong. She decided that she would just end their relationship, call it off, say what she needed and go about her business. After all, how could she pursue Ancelin with that other girl hanging onto her? "Listen, Haley," she began in a hurt voice, "I don't think we should see each other anymore—as a couple, I mean." "...What?" The news stabbed her like an icicle. "I just... think..." Ivory had to be honest with herself, and with Hail. This would hurt them both. "I think you deserve better," she admitted sadly. Hail shook her head. "What? What do you mean? Ivory..." "Look, I'm a no-good sleazebag who's got too much of a violent and sexual past to be of any good to anybody. You shouldn't have to settle for me as a lover; you should be with somebody who understands you, and... wants to be with you." "What...? You mean..." "I know I've been inattentive; it's because, well..." Time to come clean, girl. "My sexual past permitted me multiple lovers. Sometimes I had three girls at once. I never thought I'd actually begin to care for any of them outside of how they could pleasure me, or see them as anything else other than a good fuck. I... kind of... had a change of heart. I guess I really only went with you because I was horny and I needed sex, but... well, that's why you need somebody better, somebody who will love you and not just fuck and be fucked. I'm sorry, Haley." "So... you had another girlfriend while you were with me." Colder words might never have been uttered before under the sun. "Not... necessarily, but I was sort of in love with somebody else. Actually... I was in love with her before I started... anything with you. So... I'm a slut, and that's not the first time I've admitted it. It's just the first time I've really been ashamed of it." Ivory hung her head bitterly, not brave enough or proud enough to keep it raised. So, the rebel had been defeated, the rogue crushed, the wild bed-hopper cast down in the dust, and by her own actions and words. Ivory really felt like she had wounded herself more than Hail; Hail felt like Ivory had reached into her body to pull her spine out—from the front. "I don't fucking believe this." Hail's words were barely a whisper. She covered her agonized face with her hands and moaned. "I can't believe this, I just can't fucking believe it!" "There is nothing I can say that can make you feel better," moaned Ivory in response, "except that you deserve better than me—much, much better. And I know a woman like you can find it." Ivory's words felt like they were being branded on Hail's naked skin, by fire and ice and malice. She uncovered her face and bit back at her former lover with everything she had. "Fuck you!!! Fuck you, bitch! Fuck you!" She stormed off before Ivory could say anything, off to cause more grief or wallow in misery or maybe even to kill herself out of hopelessness. Ivory Tran felt the same way, and but for the impossible promise of an unreachable love, she would have followed Hail in action. Feeling worse for the wear, but otherwise relieved that the nasty business was over, she took her breath and went forth to her next class. Furious Hail went to see Ancelin. ............ Usha cradled helplessly in Blake's arms. She was silent and feeling miserable. Blake had said nothing. She combed her girlfriend's long dark hair, feeling its unbraided freedom as Usha breathed and searched for the right words to say. She had argued bitterly with Mira not long before, and felt wretched because it looked like the poor girl had been wounded, not merely offended. Usha knew she could get preachy at times, but Mira had touched upon delicate subjects: she had said just the right words to get Usha flying off her handle, and now the sweet girl was stubborn and angry, and refused contact. So Usha went to Blake, who took her and held her and was wise enough not to say a thing. "There are things I will apologize for," began Krishnan at last, "and things I never can apologize for. I will say I'm sorry for sounding bitter and superior, but my ideas stay. I just wish she realized this and incorporated a few into her own scheme. Could she not be flexible?" Blake said nothing, so Usha looked up into her kind face, desperate for an answer. "Uh... listen, Ush, I'm not smart like you, and I'm not into politics. Olivia's the one to ask for about that stuff. Besides, I could never pay attention no matter how often I took my meds. But if you want my opinion, it's really not a good idea to change a person's beliefs. It sounds like that was what you were doing. You're basically saying Mira's wrong and you're right." "No," she answered sharply, but Blake cut her off. "Now don't be stubborn; I heard it plain as a bell. You two are friends and girlfriends, but you're also rivals. So of course you'll have different ideas. And while we're on that, I thought you liked Mira's ideas." "Most of them, yes. This one... For goodness' sake, she thinks women should stay at home until their children reach school age!" "And what's wrong with that? Isn't it good for mothers or even fathers to take care of their family for the day, at least until teachers can—" "But that is what nurseries are for!" replied Usha quickly. "Families can entrust children to nurseries, or after-school programs, and work to attain whatever dream or goal or potential they have." "But what if they want to stay home? Usha, you can't—" "They shouldn't!" she snapped defensively. "I think it's a repressive form of ancient societal ritual to keep women trapped in the cage of the house while men perform duties and—glory—and who-knows what else, social life and outings—and you can factor in the dangerous increase of affairs if one goes and the other stays! And economical affairs, if nothing else, would certainly be eased if two paychecks came in instead of one." "But Usha, if the mother or father chooses to stay home—" "I can't see how anyone could—" "Could I say a whole sentence without being interrupted?!" Usha froze. Blake expressed rare anger that even her close friends had not seen. They both took deep breaths. "I'm sorry for yelling," said Baum, calmer. "I just think it's rude for people to interrupt." "I agree, and I deeply apologize for doing that, but I just..." "Your beliefs, I know." Blake took Usha's hand and caressed it, then touched her face, then kissed her gently. "I like you and respect you for it, especially since it's a life I'll never know. But everyone has an opinion, Usha, even me. You can't say that one is better than the other, especially if it's your own. You can only suggest, advise, speak when you're welcome, be silent when you're not, and listen when you're not sure." Usha smiled lovingly, and caressed her girlfriend's face. Blake's words were simple but astoundingly powerful, like a mind clarified upon a mountain. She kissed her again and cradled herself into her arms. Blake held her and stroked her hair and disliked her not for her earlier arguments. "I think you should apologize to Mira," she said at last. "You know, kiss and make up. It's the least you could do. I'll go and intervene on your behalf, but there are some things you should say that I can't. I don't want to mediate between you two every time you get into a fight you can't resolve." "We won't always be fighting, Blake," reminded Usha, slowly stroking the younger girl's arm. "I care for Mira deeply, and now that I think about it, I do miss her and wish to make amends. I won't say she was right, but I will not say she was wrong either. I shall just... let our beliefs be, and hope they do not conflict with our relationship like that anymore." Blake smiled proudly at her girlfriend, and kissed the top of her head, smelling the scent of hair along the way. "Atta girl." ......... Mira, of course, had been stubborn to accept apology. Usha pleaded and spoke very kindly, but Mira kept her arms crossed and her face locked in a pout. Eventually Usha gave up, but not without at least saying how much she cared for Mira and wished the friction between them to be over. Blake intervened and got more out of her Dutch girlfriend, including how bad Mira felt and how she wanted to make up with Usha. Pride kept the two rivals apart, as it usually did in relationships like that. Usha was proud of her esteem, her intelligence, and her grasp of topics; Mira was proud of the fact that a laywoman like her knew so much and could affect the entire junior class as she did. They had both been hurt in their last argument, and neither had seemed willing to cave. When Usha voluntarily fell, Mira began feeling superior. "She loves you so much, and I do too, but you're being a cunt about it," said Blake gently, holding Mira's head in one hand and her fingers in the other. "She apologized and admitted to being wrong about her method of arguing; you could at least do the same. Look, I love both of you equally, but you're starting to hurt even me with this discord. Now I know how you hold grudges and how you can't apologize easily when you think you're right, but Usha did something very brave, and you owe it to her to do the same." Mira frowned. They were both right, and yes, she admitted to not liking it much. "Go on," whispered Baum, kissing her girlfriend's ear. "Look, I know she'll accept your apology." "I'm not worried about that, schat," sighed Mira, using a phrase Blake knew to be affectionate. "I have been in thought for a long time. I am starting to feel afraid. Maybe you were right that time: what if this does not work out?" "You mean our threesome?" "Ja. I love you Blake, as much as I can love anyone I asked so suddenly and know so well. You are sweet and I think we would be good together. I also know you and Yusha like each other very much." "Well don't you like Usha?" "I love her," sighed Mira, cuddling closer to Blake. "She is rival, but good friend, and very sweet and beautiful. But she is also..." "Stubborn? Like you?" Mira frowned. "She has a political mind, and speaks it whenever she can, like you? Intolerant to many things, like you? Honey, schat, you two are more alike than sisters. Hell, I'm more worried about you two breaking it off with me than—" "No fear of that," whispered Mira gently, taking Blake's face in her hands and caressing it lovingly. She gazed into the other girl's eyes, her nose, her cheeks and forehead, her lips—she kissed them all longingly, whispering words of comfort and love in her own language. "So you think Usha—" "She loves you, she loves you, she loves you so much, schat..." "But you're scared of you two..." Mira said nothing. "Go apologize to her, you nut. And accept hers. And make out for a few minutes. Tell her how you feel. My God, if you never tell her anything, you will..." Blake trailed off, but she knew her words had affected her girlfriend. Mira gradually slipped her arms away, released her grip, and stood, helping Blake to her feet. They embraced again, and Mira parted with a humble, slightly sad smile. "Doei. Wish me luck." "I won't need to." The next day, Blake welcomed both her girlfriends with open arms. They attempted to share a mushy three-way kiss, and walked with arms around each other as they stepped, carefully and prudently, further and deeper into their relationship. They were all concerned about the odd arrangement working out—whether or not they could stand each other, or get along, or bear it when one loved on the other more. But all relationships were like that; theirs was just special. And it was just getting started. ............ Hitomi drank deep of her mug. Abby brought her glass up and sipped through its straw. The younger woman rested her hand atop her head, elbow on the table. The elder rubbed her hands together. Madsen rubbed her face. Keeping sighed and smoothed out her long skirt. The mug became cold. The ice shrank. Silence. "Now what will you do?" asked Abby. Hitomi shook her head. "Eat my dinner... pay my bill... walk you home... watch some TV... masturbate, take a shower, go to bed, and spend the weekend alone. Same thing I always do." "So it's back to normal?" "I can only hope. I can take it, but I'm not sure about her." Sip. "She's strong. And she sounds very lovely. You did the right thing, though." "That's the only comfort I have." The mug went to her lips, paused, and returned to the table, empty. Keeping stirred her cold drink mindlessly. She decided to poke around a bit further. "So... any potential love interest?" "None for awhile; I think I'll take a break. Funny, though: I've not had a girlfriend since I was 22, and here comes one three years later, filling me up—and I let her go. I did the right thing, but I can't help but think I passed up something good. Ah..." With that last exasperated sigh, Hitomi became quiet and figuratively fell into Abby's grasp. She stretched her hand out and clasped the younger woman's palm lovingly. "Some day," she whispered, her voice nearly giving herself away, "I hope you find the one you can love comfortably, and be they man or woman, I know they will love you likewise." Even if it's not me. "Thank you, Abby. You are... so wonderful." "Hush," she said with a warm smile. "A girl can only take so much credit before she bursts. You're quite good too; you've no idea how much you meant to me these past two-plus years." Someday, you will. Some day, not too distant, when all is right and I see you smile again, you'll know. I can't wait to tell you, but I will wait anyway. Dinner was delicious, but more fulfilling to both women was the touch of their hands, the pleasure of their company, and the strength of their bond. They parted soon, and resolved themselves to the care of evening. ......... Gabrielle joined Lilian in art class, and together they spoke and helped each other construct their current project. They both still looked like they had seen better emotional days, although Gabrielle's mood was better due to her friends' attentiveness. Janine, Victoria, and Olivia helped her and comforted her and offered her their strength, especially young Miss Johnson, who assured her friend that her cousin meant no ill will. But Lilian had nobody, save her pets and now Gabrielle—but that seemed to be enough, for Miss O'Shannon's company brightened her and made her burden seem less impossible to bear. Gabrielle invited Lilian to stay at her house for the night, but she refused politely, saying that it would be best, for the time, to stay at home and assure her parents she had not abandoned them or her birthright. The two parted at the end of the day, still feeling empty, but the void was not so big as it might've been. Night came quickly, resolving very little, and many problems stayed to stare everyone down the following day, and week, and month, for no day has conclusion, no night has end, no trouble has easy solution. But love would find a way. It always did. "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. ..." –1 Corinthians 13: 4-8
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