Chapter 7

7

ELLE

T he harsh, blue light was hitting Elle's sore eyes, but she couldn't put the phone down. Twisting in the sheets made hot by her skin, she feverishly kept swiping. Left, right, left, left, right, right, right, she made the dating app into a game, a game she wasn't sure she knew how to win.

Following the last encounter with Maya, however much heat had been in that kiss, Elle had decided: she would no longer be running around, chasing Maya Monroe like a loyal dog. This time, having been literally pushed away, and after that hung up on, she had lost her patience. She was not a teenager chasing around high school crushes, she thought, but a grown woman with lots to offer. And if Maya was not ready to grant her forgiveness, Elle wouldn't be simply sitting around, waiting.

Plenty of women wanted Elle Rodriguez and that hadn't changed.

Love is not that hard to find, she reasoned. All these women want me. I just need to find a way to be more open with them. To not keep running away from them as soon as I get them.

Another match. She liked this game, collecting women one by one, women who thought she were worth meeting. A match with someone named Rose.

Really hot, Elle sent the first message followed up with a fire emoji.

Unmatched, the screen read. Oh well.

Her loss.

Another match, this one particularly inviting- Louisa. Elle looked through all her photos; she was very pretty with sparkling brown eyes and blonde hair that reminded her frustratingly of Maya's own deep brown eyes and blonde hair. She was a bit younger than Elle, working as a chef. They exchanged a few messages, it looked promising.

Up for a dinner together next week? Elle clicked "send."

With pleasure, Darling Louisa responded.

Finally, Elle turned the phone off, casting it somewhere far away. The living room, in its spacious luxury, sometimes made her feel particularly soulless. Its large windows peered at the mowed lawns, and large, white surfaces of her furniture seemed to radiate a sad glow at night. She turned from side to side, fed up to the brim with her phone's light and unable to sleep.

There was no love in this house, she thought to herself.

Ever since the kiss with Maya, her thoughts had been haunted by erotic imaginings, threads of dreams mixed with glimmers of hope. It had been so long since she had been with Maya and they had both been so young. The only lingering feeling was that of absolute intimacy, something she chased afterwards and never managed to find again.

With other women since Maya, she had attained such a level of skill sexually in just about every way there was for two women to have sex. Elle's fingers tongue and strap could give pleasure in ways she had never known last time she had been with Maya.

Elle had women begging her to have sex with them one more time.

But, they had never felt the same. They lacked the emotional depth, they were acts of quick consumption.

The kiss with Maya had brought her blood to a boiling point, overcome her body with lust, made her understand what it could be like, if they were to make love again.

She shook her head, wanting to separate her thoughts by physically casting them away.

No, she wanted a new chapter. Maya had rejected every single advance she had made.

Surely this Louisa would fix up Elle's heart. And holding that hope dearly to her chest, Elle slowly fell asleep.

"You're a chef, what would you recommend?" Elle put on her most charming voice, hoping to convince herself this had been a good idea.

Louisa's storm of short, curly blonde hair caught colorful specks of light reflected off of the restaurant's windows. She looked energetic and accompanied her words with vivid hand gestures.

"Hm… Probably Magret de Canard, since we're at a French restaurant something involving a duck would be recommended," she smiled. "I'm taking Poulet a la Provencale, I've been craving proper chicken!"

Elle felt herself quickly warming up to Louisa. The atmosphere was relaxed despite it being the first meeting, Elle didn't have to try that hard, and Louisa's occupation as a chef intrigued Elle, as something so very far from her own career… and as with pretty much all firefighters, Elle was a huge fan of eating food.

"I've never talked to a firefighter before," Louisa swirled her wine with a knowing fluency of her wrist.

Elle raised her eyebrows, "what are your thoughts then, am I up to your expectations?"

Louisa deliberately looked her up and down with a hungry look in her eyes and Elle preened. She knew she looked good. She always looked good. "Exceeding them."

Their dishes arrived, fragrant and steamy. The silence that followed interrupted only by their chewing and sounds of cutlery, let Elle plunge into thought.

Something strange lay in sweet talking each other so very explicitly. As Elle dug her fork into the duck, she thought of the delicious tension of uncertainty. The dance, as she called it. The push and pull of desire. Where was the space for that on dates such as this one? The only uncertainty that remained was when not if. There was no chase, and what Elle liked about dating, or sex, was the chase. Do you want me the same way I want you? was a question she could spend an eternity looking for the answer to.

Instead, she and Louisa had known what they came here for from the beginning. If there was no difficulty achieving affection, Elle reasoned, it would make sense for it to feel hollow, undeserved, expendable. Easily obtainable from someone else. But, she didn't want to lose hope. Perhaps after a while, it would start feeling entirely natural, perhaps they'd forget where they met.

"Thanks for recommending me this, it actually tastes insane," Elle nodded with approval, "should we go out for a smoke and get dessert?"

"Sure," Louisa laid her cutlery down, getting ready to step out onto the terrasse.

"So, why'd you decide to become a firefighter?" Louisa lit her cigarette off of Elle's, leaning in very close to her face.

"Oh, I just knew I'd be very good at it."

"Cocky," Louisa laughed. "Why'd you think so?"

Elle put her arm around Louisa's shoulders, feeling the fleece jacket against her skin. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, then responded, "I have always felt confident in dangerous situations. Focused." She looked at Louisa, smiling, "At peace, perhaps."

"That's quite deep. To feel at peace in danger."

Elle shrugged. "Yeah, well, I was right, wasn't I? I'm quite good at what I do."

"I wouldn't know," Louisa giggled, "you could be the worst firefighter on Earth, and I'd have no clue."

"Right," Elle nodded.

They stood closer to each other now, and Elle could recognize Louisa's perfume. Its zesty scent felt pleasant, though quite strong.

"You like strong perfume, hm?" She leaned in to gently touch Louisa's neck with her lips. She made her way up to her mouth, and laid a soft kiss on it. Louisa quietly sighed with unexpected pleasure.

"I like you for sure," she whispered.

They went back inside and ordered chef's apple pie for Louisa, a tiramisu for Elle, and another round of wine. With drinking, their voices gradually lowered and became husky, pleasantly contrasting with the clinking surroundings.

"Was it difficult, changing countries?" Elle had never been to Europe, nor any other continent for that matter, and Louisa's upbringing greatly interested her.

"At first there were some cultural shocks, big and small. Especially in the industry… She waved her hands in an abstract gesture, "but nothing too difficult to adjust to, I think at the end of the day, for our generation it's all the same."

Elle nodded. "I'd love to visit France some day, it sounds lovely."

"Well, prepare for the rats… Oh, and not a single person I know there can drive."

"How do you guys move around?" For Elle, driving had been her great freedom. Her first real taste of freedom, and her most treasured skill. To be able to go wherever she wanted, wherever her car would take her.

"Public transport and our feet," Louisa giggled, "I also only got my license here, I had no use for it before. Say whatever you want about Europe, but it's great to walk around."

"Maybe," Elle shrugged. She still struggled to imagine not owning a car. "In my department, I'm often the fire truck driver."

"Sounds stressful."

"It is, but as I told you, I work great under stress. Nerves made of steel."

"That would make you amazing in the kitchen," Louisa nodded, "we have that in common."

They walked giggly and weak-legged from laughter to their cars. Over the course of their dinner, Elle began feeling truly comfortable around Louisa, and a part of her didn't want to take her home, which would inevitably alter their dynamic. A part of her wished they'd preserve this blissful state of getting to know each other, before moving anywhere further. But Elle wasn't the one to refuse, she knew she'd follow Louisa's suggestion if posed.

They leaned against Louisa's car in a prolonged kiss. Her hands began going up Elle's hips, but then Elle interrupted. "Should we get in?"

On their way to Louisa's flat, they didn't say much. Her car provided a cool shelter against the heat of summer coming into full bloom, and each of them plunged deep into her own thoughts. Elle tried not comparing this situation to that with Mimi. Her mind ran in circles, bumping from one woman in Elle's memories to another, blurring the lines between them, making her guess who had been who.

She turned on the radio, and Jeff Buckley's voice filled the car.

"Oh no, this is so sentimental," Louisa sighed, but did not switch the station.

Watching Louisa drift into her own land of memories, Elle realized how different dating felt in adulthood. As late teenagers, everyone had been more or less a blank canvas, still full of enthusiasm and ready to dive into fresh experiences. Back then, it felt refreshing to meet someone new.

As adults, everyone came with an ocean of experience locked away behind their eyes. Clunky luggage dragged from relationship to relationship, piling up, inaccessible in its entirety. Unpacking it would take years, or even decades. As adults, you couldn't really take each other in completely, indiscriminately.

The car parked in front of an old, red brick apartment complex.

"What a nice building," Elle said, unfastening her belt. "I wonder whether it follows all the fire safety precautions."

Louisa gave her a dead stare. "Are you kidding me?"

Elle shook her head, "no, really, only a few weeks ago I was called to extinguish a really similar one. What an action that was, I had to go in to save some people who got stuck-"

"Ok, maybe let's not talk about my building burning down, you know? I have enough anxiety at my job," and having said that, Louisa got out of the car.

"Whatever," Elle muttered and followed suit.

Louisa's apartment welcomed Elle with the familiar to the core of her bones ambience of a person living alone. There was nothing she could pinpoint exactly; perhaps the set up of the dining table, so clearly out of use, or the lingerie thrown on random furniture inside of her bedroom. She knew this atmosphere intimately because it was like being in her own house.

"Could I have a glass of water?" She asked, realizing how dry the wine had gotten her mouth.

Louisa disappeared into the kitchen. The apartment was small, colorful prints decorated the walls, and each room had a carpet spread on the floor. Cozy was the only word that came to Elle's mind. Louisa reemerged with two glasses of water. They hadn't turned on the light, and everything seemed taken out of a fever dream. Moonlight shone through the water.

"How do you like it?"

"The room? It's cute," Elle looked around. "You collect vinyls? That's cool."

She liked it when people collected things, no matter what type. It seemed slightly foreign to her, in a good way. Maya had always been too frugal to collect anything besides her own money, and Elle preferred to spend hers on different indulgences. Jeff Buckley certainly denominated Louisa's collection.

They began kissing, the night enveloping them in a dreamlike unreality, their gestures remained foreign and full of moony sensuality. Without turning the lights on, Elle continued with what she knew was expected. She gave to Louisa, but she kept her own underwear on- she didn't want Louisa touching her. She knew that at the moment there was only one person she wanted touching her.

And however hard she tried, she just couldn't get Maya Monroe out of her head.

Elle woke up in a foreign bed, wondering what had led her to it. She shuffled through the memories of the night, looking around for Louisa. She wasn't to be found in the bed. This annoyed Elle; she never liked being the second to wake up. She got up, collecting her scattered clothes off the floor, stretching out her back and rubbing her sleep-sticky eyes.

Louisa suddenly entered the room. She was fully dressed and ready to go, bag in her hand and shoes on her feet. Elle looked at her with disbelief.

"You could've woken me up, you do know that?" She grunted, putting on her pants.

"I hoped you'd wake up on your own, so I just took care of my own stuff while waiting," she smiled hurriedly, "I don't want to be rude, but I really need to leave for work soon."

"Sure," Elle nodded, made utterly uncomfortable. "Next time, tell me when you need to wake up before we fall asleep, alright?"

But Louisa was already in the bathroom, finishing putting on her makeup. The sun was peeking through the see-through curtains, and Elle remembered only then that her car was still parked in front of the restaurant. She pondered asking Louisa for a lift, but seeing how their morning was going, she decided against it.

On her way from the restaurant, Elle decided to stop by a bistro and buy herself breakfast – her rumbling stomach demanded that much. A chef and she didn ' t even offer me breakfast, Elle scoffed, pulling up to a breakfast and lunch spot full of businessmen and women having their first meal of the day.

Her phone vibrated: Had a lot of fun last night tho, the message read.

Tho? Elle shook her head, bashing herself for wasting her time this way. What was she trying to prove anyway? She hadn't moved on. She knew exactly who she wanted to see and it wasn't Louisa.

"What will it be, ma'am?" The barista looked at her bemused. She'd been standing in front of the wall menu for a couple of minutes.

"Uhm… A salmon bagel and black coffee, thanks."

She sat down with her order, eyeing the other customers. People watching had always been a nasty habit of hers, one indulgence she couldn't let go of, no matter how hard she tried. People in suits and dressed business casual lined up to get their everyday coffee, all dressed the same, all doing boring corporate jobs. She noticed one interruption to the queue's pattern; Kiera O'Malley's fiery red hair stood out from the sea of black and grey.

In need of some distraction from her problems, Elle waved her over.

"How's it going, what were you up to in this area?" Kiera asked, sitting down opposite to Elle.

"Pff, long story," Elle ran her hand through the tangle of her hair, still unbrushed. "What have you been up to?"

Kiera dug her fork into the rich caesar salad. "Oh, my grandmother lives nearby, I help her out sometimes on my free days."

Elle took the last bite of her bagel into her mouth and chewed, nodding. "Very good," she hummed.

"You look like a mess," Kiera smiled, "like a morning after mess."

Elle spread her arms out in surrender. "Solved the mystery, congrats."

"How was she?"

"Don't ask," Elle raised her eyes in a gloomy look, "it was a disaster. Not the sex, it was fine," she smirked, "just… I think I was looking for something else this time."

"What, did she try to trap you within a-" Kiera gasped theatrically, "monogamous relationship? Did she want you to propose?"

Elle shook her head, "that's not funny, Kiera."

"Oh… You were the one who wanted something serious?"

Elle nodded. "These days it's harder to get than I thought."

"How about that cute ER doctor you've been hanging around with every chance you get?"

"What, Maya?" Elle scoffed, "no she is a finished case. She doesn't want me. Not anymore, anyway. She's really just acting immature, is what she's doing," Elle said and immediately regretted her words. She wished she could pull them back into her mouth, but it was too late.

"Oh well, if that's what you think," Kiera nodded. "Dating is hard, man, I've been single for two years now."

"Why'd you break up, you and the person you'd been with before?" Elle became significantly interested in breakup stories as of late, as if to justify to herself her mistake.

"He turned out to be a douchebag, nothing very original. Cheated, abused alcohol, all that." Kiera shrugged, "I'm way past that now, he deserves to rot."

"But is cheating absolutely unforgivable, you think?" Elle leaned lower over the table.

"Probably depends on the situation. I think it can contribute to the general… profile of the person, how secure they make you feel, etc. I think it's more about breaking the other person's trust and lying, disrespecting their feelings, rather than the sex itself. Would you agree?" Kiera looked up from her salad to see Elle completely engrossed in her words. "Elle?"

"I don't know. I think… Love also has to include forgiveness," she said, getting up to give the tray back to the staff. "I'll probably be on my way, Kiera. Nice chat, but I need to finally shower."

"Yeah, I'm not hugging you goodbye then," Kiera laughed and they waved to each other.

Getting in her car, Elle resolved to try to get back with Maya by any means possible. There was no one else she'd want, until she was completely certain she'd done every single thing she could to get back her love. She'd continue writing in her journal, she'd try to understand what had led her to cheat, she would do everything in her power to feel Maya's skin against her own again.