Girl Love Happens: G&T Lesbian Romance Season One Episodes 3 & 4 Page 2

  Gemma collapsed onto her bed, while I stayed put on mine. I drew my knees to my chest. She wasn’t finding any humor in the situation, and I couldn’t blame her.

  “It’s just that…” I faltered. “All this. You. Me. It’s all so new.”

  She bobbled her beautiful red head.

  “I’m not saying I don’t want to be with you.”

  Fear flashed in her yellow-green eyes. “Does it have anything to do with Er‌—‌?”

  “No!” I put a palm up, shielding my eyes. “Please. Don’t look at me that way. It has nothing to do with him. I’m overwhelmed. Is it all right if I don’t tell anyone about us? For now?”

  Confusion smashed the fear right out of her eyes. “Tell about us? Why do we have to tell anyone? I thought we settled this last night.” Her words carried a hint of frustration.

  Now it was my turn to tilt my head like a perplexed puppy dog. Not that I could see it personally, but I was fairly certain that was what I resembled.

  “Isn’t that the next step in your plan?” I asked in a tiny voice.

  “Plan?” she echoed.

  I rested a chin on my knees.

  “Tegan, do you think I’m on some lesbian pronouncement crusade or something?”

  Yes, I did, but from her pained expression the implication was hurtful. And the award for worst girlfriend of the year goes to… I needed to snap out of my funk.

  “What? No. Of course not,” I stammered.

  “And wasn’t it your idea to tell my parents we’re dating.”

  “I’m not talking about your parents. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass who in Keller knows who or what I am.” Or at least I didn’t think I cared. Word wouldn’t travel all the way back here, would it?

  “What you are?” She crossed her arms. “What are you?”

  Never before had Gemma used a harsh tone with me.

  “I don’t know. Gay, straight, bi, asexual…? I don’t know.”

  “I think we can rule out asexual.” Her lips screwed up. She was trying to make me laugh, yet my insides churned.

  I burst into tears and buried my face into my cradled arms.

  Gemma was at my side in a flash. “Shhh. It’s okay, Teeg.” She rocked me. “I didn’t mean to be an ass.”

  Great. Now Gemma thought she was at fault, when it was me who was to blame.

  “It’s not you. It’s me.”

  Gemma pulled away after hearing the classic lines delivered in many breakups.

  Fuck! Why couldn’t I get anything straight!

  “Hold me. Until I can pull myself and my thoughts together. Please.”

  She did, thank the Lord.

  Wait. Could I fuck girls and still believe in God?

  Shit, shit, shit!

  All this was too much. I stifled a yawn. Great. Would Gemma think I was bored?

  The center of my chest was on fire.

  How could I feel like my world was crashing down around me when I was in Gemma’s arms? Sweet, wonderful, loving Gemma.

  Why was my brain torturing me with all of these doubts when all I wanted was happiness?

  Could we stay together without anyone finding out? If my mother even had an inkling…

  “Tegan? Are you all right?”

  I hadn’t recognized the signs, but I’d started to hyperventilate. “H-he-he-he.”

  Gemma sprang into action. She grabbed an old brown paper bag she kept on hand after my first panic attack during midterms last semester.

  “Here.” She thrust it in front of my mouth. “Slow. Slower. Don’t take deep breaths.” She removed the bag from my mouth. “Breathe in through your nose. Hold it. One. Two. Three. Okay, let it out through pursed lips. Good job. Do it again.” She gestured like she was conducting an orchestra.

  My breathing stabilized. Gemma encircled me in her arms. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, just tired.” Tired of looking like a fool. A lesbian fool.

  “You’ve had quite the day.”

  I nestled into her arms. “So have you. And now I’m ruining it.”

  “You aren’t ruining anything.”

  “Please tell me you don’t hate me.” I clutched her arm.

  “Shhh. I could never hate you. Slow your breathing down, sweetheart.”

  Sweetheart. I was still Gemma’s sweetheart. A calm settled over me like I’d been submerged into a warm bath.

  “I’m wiped out.” My eyelids descended as the tea kettle whistled.

  ***

  “Feeling better?” Gemma rubbed my back.

  My eyes fluttered open but snapped shut again. “What time is it?”

  “Five.”

  We were in my bed, under the covers. “Morning or night?”

  “Night. You’d mentioned this morning you wanted to study some for your history test before bed.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “I hate school.”

  “No, you don’t. You love learning. You hate tests.” Gemma was still my enthusiastic cheerleader.

  “And papers,” I grumbled like a crabby child, regretting it instantly.

  Gemma hopped out of bed and put the kettle on. “Coffee or tea?”

  “Coffee. Strong.”

  “Gotcha.”

  I propped myself up against the wall with pillows cushioning my spine. “Gemma‌—‌”

  “Not tonight, Teeg. Tonight you need to focus on studying.”

  Relief whooshed through me, but it didn’t wipe away the guilt in my soul.

  “Let me say one thing.”

  Gemma wheeled about and her fragile smile gave assent.

  “I love you,” I said.

  Her smile mutated into a shit-eating grin. “That’s all that matters.” She put a hand up to silence me. “For now. We can have a heart-to-heart once the dust settles.”

  The lesbian dust.

  Why did I insist on adding “lesbian” to everything? So I liked Gemma? What was the big fucking deal? Gemma wasn’t falling apart at the seams. She was making me coffee so I could study for an exam. For her, everything was normal.

  She was normal.

  I was the lesbian on the brink of insanity.

  Gemma might have sensed the internal turmoil roiling through my mind. “Hey, what’d I say? Not tonight.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” I pouted.

  “Oh, I can see the debate waging in that beautiful head of yours, and from the looks of it, you’re losing.” She circled a finger in front of my face.

  “Kiss me.”

  “No.” She backpedaled.

  “Why?”

  “Because you need to study, that’s why.” She smiled like the devil. A redheaded she-devil.

  “All I want is one measly kiss.” I lifted the covers for her to join me.

  “Then why are you trying to get me into bed? Not going to happen.”

  “Gemma!” I squealed.

  She plopped a notebook and text onto my lap. “Study.” She followed that up by handing me a steaming cup of joe.

  I was flabbergasted when she curled up on her bed with a macroeconomics book. Really? Macroeconomics was more appealing than sex? Sex with me?

  Without peeping up from her book she said, “Don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t think it. Study. The quicker you settle down, the quicker you’ll finish, and then I’ll help you relax.”

  “I’m ready for the test now!” I tossed the study materials onto the floor.

  She snatched up my notebook, flipped to the first page, and asked, “What’s the era after the Civil War called?”

  “Reconstruction.”

  “Correct, but everyone knows that. Who was the seventeenth president?”

  “Uh…”

  “I’ll give you a hint, who was the sixteenth president?”

  “How is that a hint?”

  “Log cabin.” She scratched the tip of her nose. Was that supposed to be a clue?

  “Lincoln.” I dragged out the pronunciation.

  “Correct. And when he was assassinated, who became president?”

  “His vice president.”

  “And his name?” She eyed me with a smugness I found sexy and annoying in equal measure.

  “Give me the book.” I let out a puff of air.

  “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll help you study and each time you get a question right, you’ll get a kiss. A peck, no tongue. Not until I think you’re ready for the exam.”

  “And then we can get naked?”

  She tugged on her earlobe and smiled. “And then we can get naked.”

  I raked my hair back and twisted a black scrunchie around the unruly blonde mess while she got cozy at the foot of my bed. “Before we start, I need some music.” I grabbed the stereo remote and hit play. “Once” by Pearl Jam blared over the speakers. After I adjusted the volume, I cracked my neck, shook out my arms, and gave Gemma my complete attention. “Bring it.”

  Gemma grilled me with questions. If I didn’t know the answer, which was most of the time, she offered an explanation. When I nailed one, she leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek, hand, collarbone, shoulder, or wrist. Never on my lips.

  It was erotic as hell.

  “How do you know so much about American history?” I asked.

  “My AP teacher in high school was meaner than a pit bull.” She shrugged. “And once I learn something, it sticks.” She tapped her noggin.

  We made it through the notes, and I thought the cramming session was done, but she still gripped the notebook.

  “Aren’t we done?” I ran a finger down her bare arm.

  “Not yet.” She flipped to the first page and peppered me again with questions. Now I was answering almost everything correctly. Her quick pecks mo
rphed into lingering kisses.

  “Final page,” she said. “Each time you get a question right, one of us will take an article of clothing off. First me, then you.” She motioned with her hand that’d we repeat this until finished.

  Now she was talking.

  Neither of us had much on to begin with. Gemma must have undressed me when I’d fallen asleep earlier. She was always taking care of me.

  I got the first question right. Gemma took off her gray Husker’s T-shirt. Next, I removed my flannel pajama bottoms. The third I got wrong, but she gave me a kiss as a consolation prize. When I deepened the kiss, Gemma pulled away, waggling a teacher-like finger in my face.

  Intense desire raged through me. Was it possible to climax solely from anticipation?

  Gemma’s simple but sexy black bra was next.

  After another correct response, she helped me ease off my Edward Scissorhands T-shirt. The slow and delicate way she relished the act, sent a jolt through my hot zone. Her fingers traced circles on my skin, avoiding my nipples, even though they begged for her attention. Down south was pleading as well, but we both held back.

  Who’d break first? It was a game now, and there wouldn’t be a loser.

  The next question was easy peasy, and I helped Gemma remove her Umbro shorts. All she had left were black panties. I was still wearing mine and a bra. Days ago, both of us would have been beyond self-conscious in this state. Now we were completely comfortable.

  Why had I doubted this earlier today? Or since it had happened?

  This was the most natural thing in the world.

  It was love. Did it matter that it was girl love?

  Gemma’s breasts hitched up with each intake of breath. She didn’t bother asking me another question. Her sexual desire dared me to act.

  Our eyes locked. Gemma’s eyes smoldered. My skin tingled.

  “You’re beautiful, Gemma.”

  Still, neither of us made a move.

  “Am I forgiven?” I asked.

  “You were never in trouble with me. Tegan, I’d never push you to make any declarations. I wanted to tell my parents because they’re not just my parents; they’re my best friends. And here, besides you, Jenny is my best bud. I feel alone…” A tear glistened on her cheek as it snaked towards her chin, where it elongated, before plummeting onto the sheet.

  I cupped her face where the tear track mark still shimmered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I really didn’t realize it until I told them. Now, I feel at peace. I want you to feel this sense of tranquility, but I know it’s too soon. I’ve known since high school.” She placed a hand over mine, which still rested on her face. “I’ll always be here for you and will never push you.”

  “What if I need a push?”

  “I’ll cheer for you, but only you will know what you need. You have to tell me what you need.”

  Never before had I experienced such true love for and from another person.

  “I need you,” I said.

  “You have me.”

  Our lips passionately collided. My tongue searched for her truth.

  I toppled on top of Gemma, never stopping the kiss.

  We deepened it.

  “I could kiss you forever,” I said.

  She pulled my lips back to her hungry mouth.

  Our fingers traveled up and down the other’s body. Each touch magnified the electrical pulses in my heart and soul. Was it wrong that I wanted to devour Gemma? Her body. Her mind. And her love.

  She consumed me, and I wanted to consume her.

  Right then, Gemma’s hand slipped under my panties and entered me.

  My breath caught, but Gemma didn’t hesitate. She was learning my signs. Her mouth wandered to my neck. Nipping and licking my earlobe.

  I raked her back. She let out a satisfied groan and gazed into my eyes. Down below, she intensified her efforts.

  A splash of wetness welcomed each thrust.

  All the while Gemma plunged in and out, she didn’t take her eyes off mine. I blinked excessively but was determined to stay focused. I needed to see her watch me come.

  I was close to bursting.

  “Stay with me,” she pleaded.

  I palmed her cheek.

  My back arched. A vibration spread from the epicenter of our love and rocked both of our worlds.

  Neither of us could tear our eyes off the other.

  Lights flashed. My eyes tried to close, but I steadied them the best I could as I trembled.

  “Kiss me while I come.” I pulled her to my greedy lips.

  Within moments, I broke apart to cry out in rapture. Sexual bliss. So basic and primal. Vital.

  Gemma didn’t stop. She slipped my panties off and went down on me, taking my throbbing clit into her mouth. Her fingers slowed, but still softly penetrated.

  I writhed and fisted the sheet.

  A second orgasm began to surface. “Slow. I want to savor every second.” The sensation overtaking my body was as if I was bobbing in an ocean, waiting for the next crashing wave, and instead of being afraid, I couldn’t wait for the rapture. For Gemma to bring me home.

  Her tongue lapped my bud sensually.

  It was as if I was fated to holler Gemma’s name. Every aspect of my life collided into hers, forever entwining our souls.

  “Oh… Gemma… I love you.”

  She dove in as far as she could.

  “Yes!” I bolted up and cradled her head with both hands. She’d opened the door, and I gushed into her mouth. My head lolled all the way back.

  Gemma stilled everything as the eruption raged.

  I collapsed onto the bed. Gemma rested her head on my thigh. Her eyes sparkled with passion and exhaustion.

  For the second time today, my eyes couldn’t stay open. I flashed a tired smile and my lids drifted together.

  The last thing I remember was Gemma’s words, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

  ***

  I sat in the back row, jubilantly scribbling the final short answer for the history test. I was certain I had aced the multiple-choice section as well as the mini-essay. I had hypothesized if Lincoln had not been assassinated, he would have been impeached. At first, I was stumped in my writing until an image of Gemma flashed in my mind. I smiled remembering her glistening eyes and could practically hear her reciting word for word how Andrew Johnson, who was impeached, followed Lincoln’s plan for Reconstruction. Thank God she’d had a bitch of a teacher in high school, who’d crammed all those useless facts into her gorgeous head.

  I waltzed to the front of the classroom and slapped the bubble sheet and blue book onto the pile.

  “Feeling pretty good about it, Miss Ferber?” Dr. Kendrick asked. He actually wore a tweed jacket with elbow patches, and his resemblance to Vice President Al Gore was uncanny.

  I smiled confidently. “Sure am.”

  His pinched face conveyed “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  About half of the students had already completed the test. Usually, I was one of the last to finish. Erik was on the opposite side of the room, on his way to turn in his exam. He caught my eye and winked. I gave a two-finger wave, ensuring no one saw.

  When I emerged from the classroom someone shouted, “Teeg!”

  I searched for Gemma and spotted her bursting from the stairwell. I waved.

  “How’d you do?” asked a sultry voice behind me. I flipped around and nearly swooned when I locked eyes on Harrison. I mean Erik.

  “O-kay,” I stammered. “You?”

  “Not as good as you apparently.” He appraised my boobs, nodding his head as if his gawking at my tits was actually a compliment.

  Gemma approached. “How’d it go?” She nodded at Erik but didn’t pay him much attention. Not that he could tear his eyes from my chest to notice the slight.

  “Nailed it!” I high-fived her. Erik raised his hand and, even though I wanted to ignore him, I slapped my palm against his. Mom always said manners first. He tried to squeeze my hand, but I yanked away and crossed my arms over my apparently too tight turtleneck sweater.

  “We should celebrate,” Gemma said.

  Erik nodded. Did he think he was now one of us? Saving my life gained him entry into the Tegan-Gemma inner circle? Put that way, it kinda did. There’d be no Tegan without him.

  “How ’bout Friday? Drinks on me?” he asked.

  I toyed with the idea. I wasn’t interested in getting involved with Erik. Could I handle him staring at my boobs for free drinks? Gemma pursed her lips. Could Gemma handle it? Her thinning, bloodless lips said not a chance in hell.