Book One

My Awakening Spring

Chapter One

 

The day my life changed forever was remarkable at sunrise, clear and cloudless after the rains the night before washed the smoggy stench of LA from the air. Maybe for twenty-four hours that clarity would linger, if we were lucky. In that small sliver of time I'd find the angst of my sexual obsessions placated suddenly, inexplicably by two serendipitous strokes of fate.

This was March of my junior year at a southern California college, majoring in Art History, minoring in the soon to be futile attempts to maintain my virginity in a hotbed of sexual stimulation. I was the last bastion of purity among the sexually active coeds in my dorm and on that auspicious day, I'd find my sex life suddenly jumpstarted in a way that would boggle my mind for years.

Maybe I was pumping pheromones into the pregnant spring air. Maybe I was especially beautiful looking that day in my blue flared skirt and white t-shirt. Coed perfect, with my honey brown hair long and glistening in the sun-drenched transparency of the day. Maybe the attention I attracted had something to do with the steamy night before, when I lay masturbating in bed, surreptitiously, lest my roommate Christine realize what I was doing in the twin bed next to hers. Thankfully, I was safe all night with her gently snoring beside me, and I woke the next morning refreshed after my night of sexual wonder and shame-filled horror-a paradox to be sure, for that was how I thought of my sexuality then-and this was just a simple masturbation since there'd been no cock to penetrate my purity. The fantasies in my head were what shamed me more than any act of self-love. And yet, on this particular morning, I'd wiped those thoughts from my mind and set out feeling peculiarly elated as I walked into the crisp morning air, almost expecting something out of the ordinary to take place-even though I never could have imagined what was in store.

I didn't have long to wait for my expectations to be fulfilled.

On my way from my dorm to the student union, I passed through the quad, holding my books tightly to my chest as was my custom, while the figure of Galen Davis came into view. My stomach suddenly soured as the mild nausea of apprehension made me cringe at my shoulders and dismiss any temporary euphoria I'd been feeling. I then walked on with eyes focused forward in hopes that I could pass by Galen without her noticing me.

"Hey, Golden Girl! Here!"

The voice was unmistakable, low and clear as it cut through the cool breeze that whipped against my face.

I hesitated then stopped; it would have been rude not to, although I had little desire to have a conversation with the butch lesbian from my History of Civilization discussion section. She scared me. Everything about her scared me. The unusually short brown hair. Her boyish figure. The unapologetically lesbian attitude she'd adopted, even during a time when few women had the courage to acknowledge they were gay. In every move, gesture and spoken word she fit a stereotype that was still snickered at and overtly judged, which made my associating with lesbians something I believed the world could misconstrue.

I turned her way uncertain, and found her motioning me to where she was sitting on the waist high cement retaining wall that defined the quad on its north side. I smiled weakly, feeling self conscious of every move and afraid that anything I did would be interpreted wrong. Behind all my fear was an attraction I was too frightened to acknowledge although that in no way hindered me from feeling a ticklish physical response deep in my belly.

"Yeah, you, Golden Girl," she called out from fifteen feet away. It was me she was speaking to.

I blushed deeply, feeling grateful that there was no one around. Girls like Galen usually ran in packs, but today she was alone. The hard glare of her butch friends would have weakened me further.

"I don't bite," she added, while nodding me closer.

"I know that," I stumbled over my shyness, still hanging back, but managing to inch a few feet in her direction.

"So, how's Ms. Art History today?" she said with a big broad smile.

"I'm fine," I said.

Her eyes stripped me down to nothing; I might as well have shed my clothes and spared her the careful scrutiny of my body parts.

"Closer, c'mon. I don't bite." Her smile diminished more than it drew me in, but I had no strength to snub her.

"I really can't, I have class," I said, as good an excuse as any. "Yeah, so do I, but hey, we've got at least an hour," she said, consulting her watch to prove her point.

She gazed at me tenderly and my body shook from its rafters on down, enough that I'm sure she noticed my disquiet. A breeze stirring the eucalyptus trees above tickled the hair on my arms until goosebumps broke out across my skin.

I finally walked forward as if I were pulled by an invisible cord, and once I actually made my move, she abruptly hopped off the retaining wall.

"I have something in my room I want you to see. C'mon."